<?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-34626250</id><updated>2012-02-15T22:22:38.785-08:00</updated><category term='Off the Wagon'/><category term='Power of Prayer'/><category term='The Christmas Tree search'/><category term='Spring Break'/><category term='Bloggin again'/><category term='Mojo'/><category term='The Big Easy'/><title type='text'>In a Dog World</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>237</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-4401751749620548592</id><published>2011-11-05T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-05T09:10:16.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;﻿&lt;span id=":6r"&gt;&lt;a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=122915dc39&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=1325982c9e4c610f&amp;amp;attid=0.1&amp;amp;disp=inline&amp;amp;realattid=1379675961579012096-1&amp;amp;zw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="2011-08-29_22-36-15_176.jpg" class="hv" height="400px" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=122915dc39&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=1325982c9e4c610f&amp;amp;attid=0.1&amp;amp;disp=thd&amp;amp;realattid=1379675961579012096-1&amp;amp;zw" width="226px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Updates of the days of my life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Rooby wondering what all the fuss is about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span id=":6y"&gt;&lt;a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=122915dc39&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=132598e725e635c4&amp;amp;attid=0.1&amp;amp;disp=inline&amp;amp;realattid=1379676058006061056-1&amp;amp;zw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="2011-08-29_22-07-45_260.jpg" class="hv" height="400px" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=122915dc39&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=132598e725e635c4&amp;amp;attid=0.1&amp;amp;disp=thd&amp;amp;realattid=1379676058006061056-1&amp;amp;zw" width="226px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Not sure you can see that clearly, but that friends is a golf ball sized tumor growing on the back of Rooby's leg! She had surgery to remove it the day before we drove home to the Black Hills for Labor Day weekend. She is fine, the doctor didn't think it was cancer. What was weird is that I didn't even notice this growing until recently! Guess I need to groom her more often;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span id=":6q"&gt;&lt;a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=122915dc39&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=132598e73c76e712&amp;amp;attid=0.1&amp;amp;disp=inline&amp;amp;realattid=1379676138002972672-1&amp;amp;zw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="2011-09-02_16-33-24_301.jpg" class="hv" height="224px" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=122915dc39&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=132598e73c76e712&amp;amp;attid=0.1&amp;amp;disp=thd&amp;amp;realattid=1379676138002972672-1&amp;amp;zw" width="400px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Sorry&amp;nbsp;for the grainy quality of the picture, camera phones for ya. This is my mommy&amp;nbsp;&amp;amp; her impulse buy while I was home! We did plan on car shopping, but this was the first car we looked at and test drove. But it's a Honda, so of course she bought it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oy3JSErR-UI/TqMxECJVZMI/AAAAAAAAA18/D47AZ-5POdE/s1600/2011-09-02_16-33-33_327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="180px" rda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oy3JSErR-UI/TqMxECJVZMI/AAAAAAAAA18/D47AZ-5POdE/s320/2011-09-02_16-33-33_327.jpg" width="320px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;This was an oops pic, but so cute I had to add it. Such a happy Millie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xp3H2oYk7qU/TqMxODtshUI/AAAAAAAAA2E/NGKI29KyDB4/s1600/2011-09-04_19-49-31_629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400px" rda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xp3H2oYk7qU/TqMxODtshUI/AAAAAAAAA2E/NGKI29KyDB4/s400/2011-09-04_19-49-31_629.jpg" width="225px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;My uncles new cat. My Grampa finally got his cat fix in. He didn't stop playing &amp;amp; hold this kitten the whole time they had her there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fYljmbX459A/TqMxU--GH9I/AAAAAAAAA2M/vJw41RQRsNs/s1600/2011-09-04_20-26-05_424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="180px" rda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fYljmbX459A/TqMxU--GH9I/AAAAAAAAA2M/vJw41RQRsNs/s320/2011-09-04_20-26-05_424.jpg" width="320px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Me and my Grandpoops!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cp3cbfxriRo/TqMxbnh1yGI/AAAAAAAAA2U/qdoWY8siMLY/s1600/2011-09-04_20-27-15_569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="180px" rda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cp3cbfxriRo/TqMxbnh1yGI/AAAAAAAAA2U/qdoWY8siMLY/s320/2011-09-04_20-27-15_569.jpg" width="320px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Myself and my Gramma. She didn't want her picture taken, can ya tell?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M8JSo5nuAFU/TqMxkGDEg8I/AAAAAAAAA2c/XLu9lxo6-qY/s1600/2011-09-04_20-29-07_257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="180px" rda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M8JSo5nuAFU/TqMxkGDEg8I/AAAAAAAAA2c/XLu9lxo6-qY/s320/2011-09-04_20-29-07_257.jpg" width="320px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;My uncle John &amp;amp; Bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uDAbMWxIlPE/TqMxtKL7FFI/AAAAAAAAA2k/-8JKsQ60e0Y/s1600/2011-09-05_07-28-47_329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="180px" rda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uDAbMWxIlPE/TqMxtKL7FFI/AAAAAAAAA2k/-8JKsQ60e0Y/s320/2011-09-05_07-28-47_329.jpg" width="320px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;No cone is gonna stop Rooby from her daily ritual, which is watching me get ready!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NRcPWeSJYFM/TqMyBiLRyWI/AAAAAAAAA2s/5glHMnBu6Xo/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" rda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NRcPWeSJYFM/TqMyBiLRyWI/AAAAAAAAA2s/5glHMnBu6Xo/s1600/download.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;I just thought this one of Digby was hilarious, way to relax dude!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;So, now you are caught up with my little vaca in the Hills in Sept. I will try and start getting better at my blog writing, so more to come. I have been busy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-4401751749620548592?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4401751749620548592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=4401751749620548592' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4401751749620548592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4401751749620548592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/11/updates-of-days-of-my-life-rooby.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oy3JSErR-UI/TqMxECJVZMI/AAAAAAAAA18/D47AZ-5POdE/s72-c/2011-09-02_16-33-33_327.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3821245258309079510</id><published>2011-08-14T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T20:54:23.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uyxkMgKVoO4/Tj7zbPiV0NI/AAAAAAAAA1s/ttngfp0FzK4/s1600/mot_droid_x.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uyxkMgKVoO4/Tj7zbPiV0NI/AAAAAAAAA1s/ttngfp0FzK4/s1600/mot_droid_x.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;I recently got my first smart phone! Mine is the Droid X. It is a whole new world:) I am having so much fun with it right now. I am one of those, "There really is an app for that" kind of person. Recently I have become obsessed with an app called My Fitness Pal. Love it! Did I mention I am obsessed? It has motivated me like nothing else, I am on it so much that my phone has started locking up on me when it has had enough. Luckily you can get on the website with a computer too, hee hee. It is basically a calorie counter and exercise logger. I put in my goal, which is to lose 8 pounds. No ridicules please, these 8 pounds have been plaguing me for 2 years now. With my year sabbatical and then school, I barely walked my dogs. So, now nothing is standing in my way but motivation. This app gives me that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;So, with my goal to lose 8 lbs., I have to stay at 1320 calories per day! What the counter does is helps me log in the foods I am eating, tracks the calories and tells me how many calories I have left, or if I have gone over. I can log in my exercise as well, which helps me offset the calories. With that I can see how exercise actually helps me, especially if I want that glass of wine at the end of the night or an extra snack. I can see how much exercise I need, what certain types can do, and helps me to eat even healthier than I was. I also can see that I really do eat pretty well, and am for the most part portion controlled. The best part is at the end of the day when you log your final entry for the day it tells you, based on what you ate that day, # of calories, &amp;amp; exercise, if you stay on this same course you will be at certain weight in 5 weeks. It has been a week since I started this, so I don't have real results yet, but will keep you posted. Right now I am hooked:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Another thing making me happy, my Topsy Turvey: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4XzVemAIQbs/TkiYCqnQ9-I/AAAAAAAAA1w/7efavRg8ZAQ/s1600/2011-08-10_19-43-02_99.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4XzVemAIQbs/TkiYCqnQ9-I/AAAAAAAAA1w/7efavRg8ZAQ/s320/2011-08-10_19-43-02_99.jpg" width="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;First Fruit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-3821245258309079510?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3821245258309079510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3821245258309079510' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3821245258309079510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3821245258309079510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-recently-got-my-first-smart-phone.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uyxkMgKVoO4/Tj7zbPiV0NI/AAAAAAAAA1s/ttngfp0FzK4/s72-c/mot_droid_x.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-926579011608096637</id><published>2011-07-31T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T13:39:48.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I did it!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am about to graduate! I can't believe it really, but I am. I get final grades on the 10th of August. My Comps. were already approved, so all I need is the diploma! My Masters Degree Diploma!! Me. I have a masters...me! It's been a long row for me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Back when I was getting my undergrad degree, I did not think in my wildest of dreams that I would be getting a masters in anything. Besides not really believing in myself back then, I really didn't want to get my masters. I was burnt out on college as it was, we won't talk about that here;) But because of my new job's requirements I had to get my masters. Me and 'have to' don't always mix real well. As a result, I started stopped, started stopped, moved then started again. 12 short years later, here I am!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;This past year has been long and hard at times, but now I can tell it is already worth it!True, I had to go back and finally finish my masters, but I was really ready. God gave me the job I didn't know I always wanted, and also gave me the discipline and perseverance I so lacked before to finish. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;There were lots of road blocks. I shouldn't have been able to get back in my masters program and finish where I left off, it had been too long. There is a rule that you must start over if it has been more than five years. But I gave it to God, and he found a way. A professor became very ill and died before he was able to grade my work for the class. It was looking very much like I would have to retake that class, but once again God found a way. I forgot to get my application in for Comps. and graduation in on time, but once again God found a way! Now here I am. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now that I have all this under my belt, I can't wait to see what kind of life God has in store for me now. I do know one thing, I may be able to read some blogs more often:)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-neu4txsyC7c/TjW9e-z8IbI/AAAAAAAAA1o/1ZxPo9yzFPE/s1600/imagesCAOBPDC4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-neu4txsyC7c/TjW9e-z8IbI/AAAAAAAAA1o/1ZxPo9yzFPE/s1600/imagesCAOBPDC4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-926579011608096637?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/926579011608096637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=926579011608096637' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/926579011608096637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/926579011608096637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-did-it-i-am-about-to-graduate-i-cant.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-neu4txsyC7c/TjW9e-z8IbI/AAAAAAAAA1o/1ZxPo9yzFPE/s72-c/imagesCAOBPDC4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3124729768509307298</id><published>2011-06-19T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T09:13:15.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple; font-family: inherit;"&gt;Hi!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;I know, where the heck have I been, busy that's where....or what...whatever! Anyway lots have been going on, and unfortunately I have only had time to blog in my head. So, unless you are gifted enough to be able to read my mind, you have no idea what has been happening in my Dog World. I will attempt to catch you up in short order:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Spring semester I was taking 2 classes while working full time. Don't mind telling you, I lost it a few times. But I came out of it with 2 good grades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;In April, my brother interviewed for a job in Denver, I think just to see what they would offer him. They wanted him badly so they made him an offer that he accepted!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Somewhere in the middle of all this, or before I can't remember, Allyson announced she was preggers! I now know it is a new nephew!:) She is due in October.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;My grampa had a stroke that was a strong warning stroke. It was bad enough that he lost&amp;nbsp; speech for a time. Now he can talk pretty clear, but is having trouble getting all his thoughts out completely. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;My mom came to visit in May! I was done with class and able to just enjoy some summer for a while. Mom really helped me get my house back in shape since I haven't had time to do anything inside or out. We had a great time together. It was hard when she had to leave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Brook &amp;amp; fam. came out the same time mom did to check out where they are going to live, Castle Rock! Brook found a beautiful house to rent, and managed to get a great deal on it. Mom &amp;amp; I were able to spend sometime with them while they were here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Just before mom was here, grampa fell while trying to get the cat outside &amp;amp; broke his arm. A major set back. He broke it in two places. The problem now was that he couldn't get up fast enough to make it to the bathroom partly because of the pain he was in. So, mom &amp;amp; siblings were taking shifts staying with him to help him to the bathroom. He became scared of the bathroom, because he was afraid of falling, creating a whole other problem. Big decisions had to be made.&amp;nbsp;They also discovered that his hip was hurting him almost as bad as his arm. Gramma was having trouble managing him herself, and finding care at home was proving harder than anyone thought.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;After my&amp;nbsp;brother got home, he went into a tail-spin about money. Childcare here is more expensive than they are use to. Allyson wasn't too excited about moving and&amp;nbsp;was dragging her feet looking for a job. But when her mom told her she could transfer to Denver, Allyson became excited. She interviewed for a job, but was turned down. Still looking.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Lots of drama was going on in my brother's house hold in the last month. Brook worrying about all the things he can't control, Allyson&amp;nbsp;not telling Brook how she feels, and trying to find ways to stay and not move.&amp;nbsp;Brook was suppose to move everything this weekend, but as of last Wed. they weren't coming anymore. Brook wasn't returning phone calls (for weeks!), so I also felt at a loss of control. I really had to lean on God during this time, sometimes not so successfully.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Grampa was taken to the VA Rehabilitation&amp;nbsp;center. It was hard to get him there, he kept saying that he had a brain, and if he went there he would die. But they got him there, and he is doing better. They took care of his pneumonia,&amp;nbsp;his hip was badly bruised, and he needed help with his arm. He is doing better now. They are trying to manage the bathroom thing so that he can eventually go home. He only has 30 days there, then he has to either go home or find a new place, which is really expensive. At least right now, he is ok.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Just when I was feeling the most down and hopeless&amp;nbsp;about my little nephew coming here to live, God did his thing. I found out through my mom that they are coming after all. All I could do was cry. I wanted them here so badly! Brook and I still hadn't talked. I was starting to think he was mad at me, so I was pretty down about that. He &amp;amp; I finally talked last night, and we are ok.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Somewhere in the middle of all this I started my class in Denver. I drive up to Denver twice a week, Tues. &amp;amp; Thurs.'s. I get home at 10:00 those nights. It is wiping me&amp;nbsp;out! The class is accelerated, started&amp;nbsp;June 7th, and ends July 7th with one project that is due July 31st. It feels like, and is, the whole semester is crammed into one month. The class is interesting though, Math &amp;amp; Literacy K-2nd grade. Whole new way of thinking for me, but I love what is happening in math &amp;amp; reading now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;This was suppose to be my last class, but true to form something has to go wrong! When I was applying for graduation, my class list showed that I missed a class that I had not finished previously. My advisor &amp;amp; myself had missed it. I have to track down the professor, who doesn't work for the University anymore, and find out what happened. Last year the class was listed twice, one with a grade and one as a W. The college was suppose to remove the W, but did the opposite I think. But we can't find who did it and where this occurred. Its a mess. I was afraid for my job, so this weekend has not been a good one. However, my boss doesn't think that my job will be affected, but I may have to retake this class, thus not graduating until Fall. Sucks, was so hoping to be done and having my life back. But as long as I have my job, I will just have to do it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;So, there you are, all caught up! My brother is set to move out here this coming Thur. night. Allyson will stay behind until either she gets a job or their house sells. But hopefully she will be here at least by the end of the summer. I can't wait to be a full time Auntie!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-3124729768509307298?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3124729768509307298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3124729768509307298' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3124729768509307298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3124729768509307298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/06/hi-i-know-where-heck-have-i-been-busy.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-4022885548328046549</id><published>2011-03-26T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-26T13:34:12.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;I feel like being Random today, so here I go!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love it that Digby loves playing with a squeaky ball he got for Christmas, but it hurts his ears. Every time he &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;﻿&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;chomps on it &amp;amp; it squeaks, he growls out in pain, but he keeps doing it!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;I love that I live in an area that I can hike virtually year round if I want to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;Why is it that I have 'blog' thoughts all week, but when I actually sit down to write, I can't remember anything but that they were funny. Sigh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;I love that Millie won't play with toys unless we are all out of the room. Often when Rooby &amp;amp; Digby are outside, and I am in the shower, I hear her playing. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;Digby likes to be in the bathroom with me whenever I take a shower. I'm not really sure why this is, but when I announce I am taking a shower, in he comes. I have caught him a time or two peeking under the shower curtain. He just sits there and stares...weird. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vYUU_hAtkZE/TY5LO3V4LPI/AAAAAAAAA1M/-ByNazAMKy4/s1600/GEDC0777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" r6="true" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vYUU_hAtkZE/TY5LO3V4LPI/AAAAAAAAA1M/-ByNazAMKy4/s200/GEDC0777.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;I bought a Topsy Turvy Tomato Planter the other day. Just have to wait until seedlings are out. We shall see if it works like it does on TV. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;The class I&amp;nbsp;am taking (Curriculum Planning &amp;amp; Development) MAY kill me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;I am going to start getting massages now. I am hoping it will help with the point above and with my back that is causing a whole lot of migraines. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;I can't stand it that it isn't as warm as I want it to be already!! I am ready for Spring. Ready to start all over with my plants and hopefully keep those pesky weeds away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;I love that Millie still throws her head back as if she is laughing whenever she gets to sit with me on the couch!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-WtLaf3CQ4BA/TY5IZ_HSz9I/AAAAAAAAA1I/9n-0DtGsS0w/s1600/GEDC0772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; height: 240px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 189px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" r6="true" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-WtLaf3CQ4BA/TY5IZ_HSz9I/AAAAAAAAA1I/9n-0DtGsS0w/s200/GEDC0772.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;How come if Rooby doesn't want Millie on the bed, Millie won't come up even when I say it is ok?? Aren't I the alpha here? All Rooby has to do is give Millie a certain look, and she knows she is not allowed on the bed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;What I love more than anything, is that I am going to be an Auntie again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Gp1-9cJUNlI/TY5GNz9v-TI/AAAAAAAAA1E/rruHfs01hls/s1600/thumbnail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" r6="true" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Gp1-9cJUNlI/TY5GNz9v-TI/AAAAAAAAA1E/rruHfs01hls/s1600/thumbnail.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-4022885548328046549?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4022885548328046549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=4022885548328046549' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4022885548328046549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4022885548328046549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-feel-like-being-random-today-so-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vYUU_hAtkZE/TY5LO3V4LPI/AAAAAAAAA1M/-ByNazAMKy4/s72-c/GEDC0777.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7114255317860772407</id><published>2011-03-13T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T19:03:46.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: magenta;"&gt;The difference is in which way my head is turned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-DoGDJ36tSkc/TYaxPb1UGFI/AAAAAAAAA1A/yJm7YmzTx60/s1600/classroom+091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-DoGDJ36tSkc/TYaxPb1UGFI/AAAAAAAAA1A/yJm7YmzTx60/s320/classroom+091.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-BdY3RyUi55o/TYauVPqaRVI/AAAAAAAAA08/BNDHdENa5D8/s1600/classroom+090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-BdY3RyUi55o/TYauVPqaRVI/AAAAAAAAA08/BNDHdENa5D8/s320/classroom+090.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Xhas-orcnDc/TX0oSTFCRdI/AAAAAAAAA0o/viza8mNT6KE/s1600/classroom+081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" q6="true" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Xhas-orcnDc/TX0oSTFCRdI/AAAAAAAAA0o/viza8mNT6KE/s320/classroom+081.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #d5a6bd;"&gt;Ok, so I don't really like this angle, but I am not good at taking my own picture either. I should have had someone take it last night, but I chickened out. I am showing you this cuz this is the shortest I have cut my hair since 7th grade! I did it casual w/a roller brush &amp;amp; hair drier. Last night it was more 'done'. Today I look like a round circle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2fWTdf3UNjE/TX0uRgWjOcI/AAAAAAAAA0s/EEGJImIgPUM/s1600/classroom+082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" q6="true" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2fWTdf3UNjE/TX0uRgWjOcI/AAAAAAAAA0s/EEGJImIgPUM/s320/classroom+082.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #d5a6bd;"&gt;I do like the back a lot, but the side to me makes me feel like I have a flat face. I don't know. Two days ago I liked it, today either I am grouchy or I don't like it. I will upload a pic tomorrow when I do it more, see if it looks any better. Opinions? It really is only hair. Next time, I may keep the back, but have the sides slightly longer than they are now. I really want a funky cute hairstyle, that is what I am going for. Wish I could show you the pic in the mag. I found the style in. Of course, I can't figure out how to do it like that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-7114255317860772407?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7114255317860772407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7114255317860772407' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7114255317860772407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7114255317860772407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/03/ok-so-i-dont-really-like-this-angle-but.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-DoGDJ36tSkc/TYaxPb1UGFI/AAAAAAAAA1A/yJm7YmzTx60/s72-c/classroom+091.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-1478111116480147451</id><published>2011-02-25T16:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T16:29:56.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04; font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;YYyyyyuuuummmm!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;Ok folks, you will thank me for this later, trust me! I found this recipe in Better Homes Mag., but I altered it for the crockpot, my faithfulist of cooking partners:) If you want the normal recipe, you're gonna have to call me, too much for me to type.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;Braised Beef Shanks with Mushroom &amp;amp; Olives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;2 Tbsp olive oil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;I used a Beef Chuck Roast (4lbs.)&amp;nbsp;(or 4 bone-in beef shanks 1 1/4 in. thick)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;salt &amp;amp; pepper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;2 large onions, chopped (2 cups)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;2 med. carrots, coarsely chopped (1 cup)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;3 cloves garlic, minced&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;3/4 cup dry red wine &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;1- 14 1/2 oz can undrained diced tomatoes with basil, garlic, and oregano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;1 cup beef broth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;12 oz cremini or button mushrooms (I used mushrooms), quartered or halved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;3/4 cup pitted assorted olives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;gnocchi (is optional, but I used it &amp;amp; loved it!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;*****&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;1 recipe Fresh Herb Topper:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;1/4 cup chopped fresh Italian (flat leaf) parsely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;2 tsp finely shredded lemon peel (I used Lemon Peel spice)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;3 cloves garlic, minced&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;****&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;Directions:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;Sprinkle beef with salt &amp;amp; pepper. Put in crockpot. Add onions, carrots, and garlic. Add wine, tomatoes, beef broth. Cover and cook on low 6 to 8 hours. Last half hour add in the gnocchi, mushrooms, and olives. To serve, sprinkle the Fresh Herb Topper on top and enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #783f04;"&gt;Seriously loved this recipe!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-1478111116480147451?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1478111116480147451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=1478111116480147451' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1478111116480147451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1478111116480147451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/02/yyyyyyuuuummmm-ok-folks-you-will-thank.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3382426679438598037</id><published>2011-02-13T18:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T18:16:38.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FG_RroUgkEU/TViFwfsrulI/AAAAAAAAA0k/Ludy37OG8a8/s320/classroom+001.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;I haven't blogged about my job much on purpose I think. I am still not 100% sure why, but I think I can guess that I may be holding back on that because I am afraid of losing it some how. I really love what I am doing now. I love it love&amp;nbsp;it love it! I am not perfect at it by any means. I deal with the 7 year gap in Special Ed everyday, but the instinct I have always had with kids is still there. The rest I am drawing on from when I was&amp;nbsp;last an ECSE (Early Childhood Special Educator) for the most part, and from trainings &amp;amp; the classes I am taking right now. I am learning and relearning a lot right now, and I love it! I worry though, of course I do, that's who I am. I worry that HR will find a away. I worry that I will end up getting kicked out of Grad. School because of how long ago I started the program. I also worry about how people perceive me in this new role, because I left as a Supervisor (a job with status), and because&amp;nbsp; of how I left. Even though many people were happy to see me back, I feel like I came back under a cloud. Most days my former life feels like a distant memory. There are moments that remind me of the cloud every so often though. Could be something simple like seeing my old desk discarded in the hall, or how someone treats me that hurts. I have been finding out who really are the people that care about me. I have been working through things one day at a time. I have to give moments like I just described to God, and each day I pray that God takes my need to show people I can do this job (my ego) out of the equation so I can do what he needs me to do with each of his kids I am working with. This has made big difference for me. I like who I am becoming. I like my role now working with teachers so much more than I ever use to. And I love&amp;nbsp; each of the kids I work with:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-3382426679438598037?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3382426679438598037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3382426679438598037' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3382426679438598037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3382426679438598037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-havent-blogged-about-my-job-much-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FG_RroUgkEU/TViFwfsrulI/AAAAAAAAA0k/Ludy37OG8a8/s72-c/classroom+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7160081291074777703</id><published>2011-02-02T10:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T10:36:30.053-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;For Bobby and Karen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;My List for Qualities I would love to have in my Future Husband&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;﻿:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;(As written in 1/21/07)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;1. Loves God &amp;amp; is active in Relationship with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;2. Sense of humor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;3. Intelligent but down to earth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;4. Able to listen &amp;amp; give. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;5. Able to appreciate who I am on the inside &amp;amp; how far I have come. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;6. Able to show feelings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;7. Strong in spirit &amp;amp; in body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;8. Able to take care of me, but also able to be taken care of. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;9. Love for music- singing or playing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;10. Willing to be a partner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;11. Love for the outdoors- camping &amp;amp; hiking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;12. Good with money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;13. Has a good family-that will love me too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;14. Nonjudgmental &amp;amp; not prodigious. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;15. Will love my faults too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;16. Will know my heart despite what I say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;17. Animal lover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;18. Doesn't mind cleaning or cooking also;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;19. Independent but committed to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;20. Able to forgive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;21. Has no major addictions, but if he does has worked through them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;So, I have thought a lot about this, and it isn't the physical that I want. It is just easier to talk about physical characteristics. I have said that, there is a lot more I am looking for. I also have said that I typically don't fall for guys that are beautiful to look at, far from it usually. Just as a side note here too, I know it may be impossible to find someone with all these qualities, but hopefully he has the major ones. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-7160081291074777703?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7160081291074777703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7160081291074777703' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7160081291074777703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7160081291074777703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/02/for-bobby-and-karen-my-list-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7543830198337329247</id><published>2011-01-15T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T12:59:49.607-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;Ok, so not much interest in my quest for sound dating advice. Even so, I am going to plug away, even if I am only writing this for myself. I know most of my friends maybe can't relate to me since you all have been married for so long, and I am...well 40 and still single. So, I decided to be open about my blog idea for dating advice that I will swear to follow to the letter to people I hang out with outside of my blog circle. I have not jumped in to the cyber dating world yet, I am in a spending freeze right now. So that will have to wait for now. Not discounting it, just can't afford it. There is also this little voice telling me not to yet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;I told my friend Tara about my plan, we started talking about all the silly ways I could meet guys. We were sitting at this great new tapas place drinking wine, when our very cute waiter came up. I was feel flirty, and said something breezy to him, but he walked away before he really even had a chance to hear me. He wasn't even flirting for a good tip! I had already drank a full glass of yummy wine, so I said as much, but I guess a little louder than I intended. Tara was laughing, and said 'uh, that was really loud!' He wasn't very talkative the whole time we were there, but after this incident, he seemed to smile more at me, and linger slightly. I then thought, maybe he isn't a flirty type of guy, maybe he is shy. Tara's boyfriend came in then. We&amp;nbsp;got him up to speed with what we were talking about. Cute waiter came by, then left. Dan, Tara's man, said he's interested. I said, how do you know? He said because the guy looked&amp;nbsp;you in the&amp;nbsp;eye.&amp;nbsp;Dan then&amp;nbsp;asked if I had a card. I didn't, so he found something I could write on. He then said write him a short note and give him your number, what do you have to lose? I decided, yeah, worse-comes-to-worse&amp;nbsp;I will have least made him feel good. So, I wrote a short note &amp;amp; my number. Dan took the card, and stayed behind when we left. Dan gave the waiter the card. When Dan came out, Tara asked what happened? Dan said he was all teeth:) So, you never know. Anyway, I did it. I jumped out of my tight comfort zone, and gave the advice a shot. You know what it was fun! Now what??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-7543830198337329247?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7543830198337329247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7543830198337329247' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7543830198337329247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7543830198337329247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/ok-so-not-much-interest-in-my-quest-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7142128326074915695</id><published>2011-01-05T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T21:02:27.608-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TSVDKi2R8RI/AAAAAAAAA0c/lnVcX0eLIPM/s1600/womens_48x48_scale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TSVDKi2R8RI/AAAAAAAAA0c/lnVcX0eLIPM/s200/womens_48x48_scale.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Sorry for the blurry picture here. I thought I would take a break from my dating saga (so-to-speak) to write about about my weight control venture. I really wanted to&amp;nbsp;take a picture of what I am actually using, but I am lazy with my camera these days. Anyway my diet is the same thing I have done before, portion control!! I read in Shape Magazine that you can still lose weight by eating 4 meals a day (healthy of course!), instead of the popular small six meals a day. I have tried the 6 meals a day method before, but either&amp;nbsp;I get too busy to remember to eat all six, or some of the meals get a little bigger than they are suppose to. I just can't eat all tiny meals, there has to be at least one meal that is a real meal!! So, anyway Shape said that, although watching your portion size is important (use small plates), having solid good-for-you meals plus one snack works to help lose weight that won't come back instantly because it is not a short term diet, it is how you should always eat. They say you can lose 10 pounds in a month. They had some great recipes too that I plan on trying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Of course, I have to get back on the exercise wagon! I am ashamed to say that I hadn't even walked a single dog for 2 weeks during&amp;nbsp;Christmas, and before that exercise was sporadic at best during both Nov. &amp;amp; Dec.!! Not to mention all the yummy yummy crap I have been eating. So, no surprise to find that my muffin top is now out of control. I hate that feeling of flab flopping over your jeans, and the look of dimples that should not be there on the back of my legs. My butt doesn't seem to get big, but flattish instead. So my plan is to check out CD's to exercise to from the library, cuz I am too po to afford the gym. So every two weeks I check out either yoga or Pilate's or a mixture of both. I got a stretch band, and some hand weights. Doggies are getting out with me more, which is good for all of us! I am looking forward to warmer drier weather that I can start hiking more often in&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;﻿. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am feeling much better, but have a ways to go. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I read that foods with High Fructose Corn Syrup is a no no. I was shocked, when I started looking at my food labels how much stuff has this in it! It's crazy. You have to be careful about Salsa that you buy (for example), get only natural/organic ingredients when buying salsa, or make you own. I started buying real peanut butter, that I am slowly getting use to. I find myself craving my Jiffy at times, but real is not too bad. I know the more I eat it, the better it will taste. I do love that I am more and more conscious of what is really good for me, which can be confusing at times.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Here's to a healthier me! &amp;nbsp;Happy New Year 2011!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-7142128326074915695?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7142128326074915695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7142128326074915695' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7142128326074915695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7142128326074915695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/sorry-for-blurry-picture-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TSVDKi2R8RI/AAAAAAAAA0c/lnVcX0eLIPM/s72-c/womens_48x48_scale.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-5125040066860849432</id><published>2010-12-31T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T10:50:05.905-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TR4Sb-KZsmI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/TFgoz6k806U/s1600/70053p.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TR4Sb-KZsmI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/TFgoz6k806U/s200/70053p.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;I have hit a small snag with the latest site that I tried is Chemistry. I had heard that you can use this site dating site for free, but what they really meant is you can take the personality test for free and set up your profile. I didn't know I would have to pay until some dudes expressed some interest in me. Dang it! It is about $50 for one month, or you can spend 26.50 a month for a six month commitent. I am looking for commitment, I really am, but am I willing to pay for it? Sheesh. So here are some of the other experiences I have had with other sites:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;* Match site: This is the first site I used forever ago. I think I started using it back in 2002. I met some interesting guys then. Keep in mind that I was 32 then. I also met Blair through that site. For those of you who don't know, he was my last love which ended about 7-8 years ago. The last guy to break my heart. It has been that long since I have remotely let anyone else in. I don't know how to meet guys out there in the world because I am more likely too terrified to try. I have tried Match on a trial basis since then, years later, but the quality of guys has greatly diminished since then. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;*Eharmony site: I thought, ok this is a site that is used by a lot of Christian guys. However, I have to say this was the weirdest dating experience I have EVER had! I met a guy who prayed out loud, as loud as he possibly could in a crowed restaurant. He had a serial killer look on his face most of the time. Plus he seemed to enjoy telling me what I needed to order, and how to cut it and eat it. He also told me that it was ok to hit a woman if she hits first. The next guy lied about what he looked like, then had the audacity to have people steak me out to make sure I looked good. He actually gave them the thumbs up when he thought I wasn't looking! Another guy thought, who said he was a Christian mind you, to touch himself while talking to me on the phone...seriously! So, no more Eharmony. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;* I think next I tried Christian Cafe. By this time, I may have been feeling pretty disenchanted by all this. Keep in mind, I did wait a great deal of time in between using these sites. On this site, the guys that I was interested in could care less. Instead I kept hearing from creepy old guys, who were a lot older than me. They could have been my dad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;* Plentyoffish site: I tried this one, because I was done paying for my dating experiences. It's a free site that a lot of people are using. I thought maybe there would be a good pool of people. I did have one really good date, but he ditched me after that, I think it is because I wouldn't go to his house after dinner. It WAS the first time I met him, sheesh. Most of the guys on this site were jobless, go figure! I even met a homeless man on the site. Not everyone was jobless or homeless, but there were several. I did meet a guy that I really liked. He was averagely cute.&amp;nbsp;He liked my sense of humor. He had his own business, and he was an artist. He also had a checkered past. He was a product of child abuse, had been married 4 times, and had three children. Not to mention that he was addicted to porn. He&amp;nbsp;had 2 dates before he told me that one. When it was evident that he wasn't going to do anything about this addiction, it was over.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;I will give Karen's suggestions a try before I decide to pay for a subscription anywhere. I was hopeful about Chemistry because they have a really high success rate. They were featured on 20/20. Anyway, I will need to see, and probably pray about it. Stay tuned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;Dating sites do not have to be it for dating advice though, so if you think of something, suggest it! Ask people you know. I am&amp;nbsp;open.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-5125040066860849432?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5125040066860849432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=5125040066860849432' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5125040066860849432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5125040066860849432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-have-hit-small-snag-with-latest-site.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TR4Sb-KZsmI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/TFgoz6k806U/s72-c/70053p.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-6377551715505724115</id><published>2010-12-28T08:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T08:27:08.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRoMZ3svKbI/AAAAAAAAA0U/x8meVGz66_I/s1600/dude.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="308" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRoMZ3svKbI/AAAAAAAAA0U/x8meVGz66_I/s320/dude.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e06666;"&gt;Ok ladies, I am starting the new 2011 dating campaign!!&amp;nbsp;And you all have to help me!! I am turning my blog into a dating advice column for me! I will ask advice in many types of situations, and what's more, I will try out all the advice no matter how scared I am or wacky it is. I will journal about all my adventures. If nothing else, should be fun and silly! I have not dated in sooo long, and I am tired of it. I can't figure out why I don't have a man in my life. I have tried the "I will wait for God method" for the &amp;nbsp;past year, and although God still needs to pick my guy, I am bored and lonely...let's just face it! I like my life now, I want someone to share it with me. So, ready to help me out?? OK! Let the advice begin, I can't wait to read what you will have me do first!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-6377551715505724115?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6377551715505724115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=6377551715505724115' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6377551715505724115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6377551715505724115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/12/ok-ladies-i-am-starting-new-2011-dating.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRoMZ3svKbI/AAAAAAAAA0U/x8meVGz66_I/s72-c/dude.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2307573094822093061</id><published>2010-12-27T23:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T23:40:41.414-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmOZW6u27I/AAAAAAAAAzw/XcJb_p7YVB0/s1600/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmOZW6u27I/AAAAAAAAAzw/XcJb_p7YVB0/s320/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+055.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmPA_Mh14I/AAAAAAAAAz0/EYO-Icqd_AY/s1600/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmPA_Mh14I/AAAAAAAAAz0/EYO-Icqd_AY/s320/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+056.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmPlZzho0I/AAAAAAAAAz4/LB1rALyct0M/s1600/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmPlZzho0I/AAAAAAAAAz4/LB1rALyct0M/s320/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+060.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmQI0DXhZI/AAAAAAAAAz8/PXTSIB4jUg8/s1600/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmQI0DXhZI/AAAAAAAAAz8/PXTSIB4jUg8/s320/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+063.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmQtIrFmMI/AAAAAAAAA0A/rV_kQCj1CKg/s1600/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmQtIrFmMI/AAAAAAAAA0A/rV_kQCj1CKg/s320/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+051.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;In Digby's bed!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmRVClxg1I/AAAAAAAAA0E/0crCJYNce4g/s1600/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmRVClxg1I/AAAAAAAAA0E/0crCJYNce4g/s320/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+069.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmR2yAtJbI/AAAAAAAAA0I/EVfdkPifLgA/s1600/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmR2yAtJbI/AAAAAAAAA0I/EVfdkPifLgA/s320/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+065.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There's&amp;nbsp; a kid under that red Santa bag!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmS8vXsvAI/AAAAAAAAA0M/3F6Mhdj-0pI/s1600/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmS8vXsvAI/AAAAAAAAA0M/3F6Mhdj-0pI/s320/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+071.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmTlxflP7I/AAAAAAAAA0Q/MWPAexh6u20/s1600/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+074.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmTlxflP7I/AAAAAAAAA0Q/MWPAexh6u20/s320/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+074.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;All the best parts of Christmas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-2307573094822093061?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2307573094822093061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2307573094822093061' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2307573094822093061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2307573094822093061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/12/in-digbys-bed-theres-kid-under-that-red.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TRmOZW6u27I/AAAAAAAAAzw/XcJb_p7YVB0/s72-c/missy-zoo-xmas-horse+055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2963345037477431516</id><published>2010-10-31T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T12:09:46.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TM28M1wXT2I/AAAAAAAAAyw/YD1FTTPioUo/s1600/iban249t.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nx="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TM28M1wXT2I/AAAAAAAAAyw/YD1FTTPioUo/s1600/iban249t.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;You know you are in fact 40, when someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;you don't know very well tells you, you may be perimenposal!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;When you are now required to get a mammogram.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;When you take more than a multivitamin. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;When kids look at you like you are insane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;When you can't wait to go home because you want to go to bed early.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;When your hair stylists suggests you do something about your brow wrinkles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;When every bone in your body hurts when you wake up in the morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;And when you have to stop saying things like "Up top!" (with hand raised up), cuz it just doesn't sound right coming from me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-2963345037477431516?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2963345037477431516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2963345037477431516' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2963345037477431516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2963345037477431516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/10/you-know-you-are-in-fact-40-when.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TM28M1wXT2I/AAAAAAAAAyw/YD1FTTPioUo/s72-c/iban249t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-9051161138595412581</id><published>2010-10-03T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T18:50:19.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;More Rambles and musings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;It is exactly a year ago today that I did &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-guess-this-should-say-good-bye-from.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;. It is interesting to me to go back and read that post, all the hope I had, and the feeling of not really having the sense that I belonged. I look at where I am a year later, and am amazed! I didn't lose my house, right now&amp;nbsp; I am sitting here looking around at my Halloween decorations I just found in a box and put up. My house us clean, for me:), and looking so warm and homey. My dogs are happy. I love my new job. I just love love being here. It was quite a journey I put myself on, but one I must have needed to be on to appreciate all that I have now. And one that brought me to my current job and new aspects to my life. I don't have near the amount of stress I had before. People don't tell me I look tired all the time anymore. I hear more that&amp;nbsp;I look rested and happy. Gotta like that. I am not saying my job isn't stressful at times, it is. Last week a kid actually slapped me across the face! I have NEVER experienced that before. The kid doesn't have much language except what he repeats, so this was his way of telling me he was angry. What I love is figuring out what this kid needs and putting things in place to help the staff help him. The small victories are priceless for me. I am able to work more 1 on 1 with these kids, which teachers can't, so I can really make a difference. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;Going to school, or really the homework part, is not going as great as I hoped. Mostly because I can't seem to find the time to sit down and work on my paper. Cher, I need some inspiration from someone who did this WITH kids and a husband! I keep finding something else to finish up, then before I know it it is already 8 or 9pm and I am tired. I just need to kick it in the arse I guess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;I am happy to say I love that it is fall. I am ready for the cooler temps., loving football, and am looking forward to the season changes. I just colored my hair to my fall dark blond and am ready to embrace my white-as-butt skin! Fall, bring it on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-9051161138595412581?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9051161138595412581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=9051161138595412581' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/9051161138595412581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/9051161138595412581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/10/more-rambles-and-musings-it-is-exactly.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8911507152614265655</id><published>2010-09-12T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T11:28:12.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TI0aFRHpQ3I/AAAAAAAAAyo/eHNnv1oim2E/s1600/7.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TI0aFRHpQ3I/AAAAAAAAAyo/eHNnv1oim2E/s200/7.gif" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;Wooo hooooo! It's officially Football season!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;I am especially happy about this for this season because I did not get to watch much Bronco Football last year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;Nor did I see the amount of coverage that we have here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;This year, it is all good, and all about the Broncos!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;Go Broncos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8911507152614265655?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8911507152614265655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8911507152614265655' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8911507152614265655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8911507152614265655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/09/wooo-hooooo-its-officially-football.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/TI0aFRHpQ3I/AAAAAAAAAyo/eHNnv1oim2E/s72-c/7.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8704518578375336790</id><published>2010-09-11T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T15:33:20.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Random thoughts by Chris:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Why does it take the whole friggin weekend to clean my house?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;I love love love my new job, so why do I feel weird about telling people that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;I wanted so much to be the one that God used to save my brother's marriage, but when you pray about this sort of thing and wait.....guess what God answers you! Who knew? I am not going to be the one who does that, nor is it my job to try and reason with my sis-n-law. A lady from my church prayed for me one night, and she had more insight than what I told her, it really hit home. She told me sometimes our only job is to listen and ask questions, let God do the rest. I cried, but I know she is right. I have a phone date with my sister-n-law tomorrow night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;How much hair does one dog have???!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;My yard looks like crap....just sayin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Ever been hit on by a 60+ something-year-old in Wal-Mart? I have. Recently even.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Why do most of my headaches/migraines wait for the weekend to happen? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Can you say bored?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8704518578375336790?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8704518578375336790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8704518578375336790' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8704518578375336790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8704518578375336790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/09/random-thoughts-by-chris-why-does-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2991937239750169213</id><published>2010-09-05T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T11:57:50.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Prayers Please&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;My sister-n-law is walking away from the marriage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Please pray that is can be reversed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;but if not that God can please turn this into good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;And pray for me, cuz I keep having strong urges to call someone someone and shake them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-2991937239750169213?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2991937239750169213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2991937239750169213' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2991937239750169213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2991937239750169213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/09/prayers-please-my-sister-n-law-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7471842894307492842</id><published>2010-08-22T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T12:50:50.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;Life Anew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;Can't help but praise God here. He is really showing me how full my life can be here. How did I miss all of this before?? Anyway, I am enjoying my wart-filled house. I love doing something everyday day, however small or big to make it my special home. I love that my dogs are calm and happy. I have a space to call my own. Before, I would only see what was wrong and what I didn't have that others&amp;nbsp;did have. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;I am spending time with people who are my real friends. Now I know who are my real friends and who are not here. But I am also enjoying my alone time too. Not worrying about not always having something to do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;Today, I went to church. I got to work in the coffee bar, which is one of those things that God restored for me. It was like I haven't missed a beat. I love how appreciative people are for the simple service of providing coffee for them. At the end of the sermon today, they announced that they will be having a small group information meeting right after church. I thought, well here is my chance to see if anything has changed here with small groups. Before, I so wanted to be connected in the church, but there wasn't any groups available that drew me in. There was not a singles group formed at all. Only Married groups or women's groups that were really geared for women who were married. Anyway, I went and listened. They do have a small group for 20-30 somethings, but ahemmm I am now 40. The next singles group was for 50's and up. I am not sure if I can fit into the 20-30's group. Would that be weird if I go to that? Will everyone really be more in the 20's range? Other than that, not much else was offered. I am happy that they have formed a group that singles can be a part of. Oh, and I guess it isn't just singles, married people are a part of it too, which is great! More opportunity to meet people. So, I left feeling a little disappointed, and fought a tear, but shook it off. I decided I would at least email the coordinator of groups and ask if I was too "old" to go to this group. I went back to the coffee bar to finish cleaning up. I kept thinking to myself, God will figure this out. It wasn't long when this girl came up top me and asked if I remembered her. Her name is Vicki, and I worked with her through a District partnership. I didn't know her well, but I do know she is a sweet person and a true Christian. She started coming to this church a few months ago. She said she saw me sitting in the small group meeting. I told her about feeling weary about going to the small group for 20-30's because I just turned 40. She said she didn't think I should disregard it, because well, I don't really act like I am 40;) Had to laugh at that one, cuz well, I get that a lot. There is a get together tomorrow night with the whole group, and she is going. We agreed to go together for support. I had to smile, because God knows me so well. He knows I needed some help to get me there. So, I will see how it goes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;I start working with my Special Needs kids this week, and I am so excited to get started. Here's to a great week, everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-7471842894307492842?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7471842894307492842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7471842894307492842' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7471842894307492842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7471842894307492842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/08/life-anew-cant-help-but-praise-god-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-69983187944301565</id><published>2010-08-15T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T09:14:50.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;I have had the worst time deciding what to write. There really has been a lot happening, so every time I sit down to write to you. I get Karen's writers block. I really can't wait to be writing just ordinary everyday things, and not life changers or sad stories. But, I know you all deserve to know what has happened since I came back to CO, and if I am happy still about my move. So, I will tell this in short categories:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;House: What I saw when I drove up in my driveway was a whole lot of weeds and neglect. It made me sad, but more happy to see it that I ever thought I would be. Weeds and all( and when I say weeds, I am talkin tall weeds all over the front AND backyard). I cried, and couldn't get out of my car for a while. My house!! I have vowed that I will love my house despite all it's short comings and the short comings of the nongardner who lives in it. So, even though I am not near where I need to be with the unpacking and things are a mess still. I love being home!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;Dogs: Everyone, including me, thought my dogs would go crazy with happiness when they saw they were home. But they really didn't. I have noticed more subtle things about their behavior that have told me they know they are where they belong. Rooby has been calmer, for her that is. Millie is also more relaxed, but she is also funny. She does this thing with her head when she is being silly. She throws her head back as if she is laughing. She also started doing something she only does here at her house. She does this little hop when she comes in from the back yard. It's so cute! And how did Digby show me he is home? He didn't pee anywhere in the house.:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;Work/friends: My friend Yvonne came over the very night I drove back to CO. I didn't know she would be over, so a good surprise. Every day now for a month someone has told me they are so glad I am back. Makes me feel really good. It is weird that I am no longer a Supervisor, and I know there are plenty of people talking. I just keep trying to say how excited I am for my new role to start. I really am excited. I have come to realize that I was not liking the person I was a lot of the time while doing that job. I liked small aspects of the job, several superficial. I also know that I do not need that kind of pressure and stress in my life. God is showing me that I can really make more a difference in Special Ed. working with kids that don't really have a voice. I will feel less weird about everything once I can stop explaining myself, and dive into my new job. The people in my new department are great. Some I have worked with before. They are a tight group, but are good to each other and have a lot of fun whenever they are together. I really have a had a great time reconnecting with people since I have been back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;School: As part of me getting this new job, I have to finish my Masters. You would think that would be no problem, just sign back up for school and finish. Not if you are me and accustomed to sabotaging your circumstances. Technically I should have to start all over. Many of my classes I have taken are really old. I have 4 withdrawals and I am sure they have added a few more classes since I last took classes from this University. I checked into possibly transferring credits and going to another school. I would love to take classes just online if I could. But I found out that it is not that easy when you are in Grad. School as opposed to undergrad. Any accredited school will only take 6 credits from the former school. 6 stinkin credits!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; * Update- I can finish my Masters through the school I started in. I can't take classes online, but I don't have to register or pay for my old classes if I come to campus. I think I can handle that! I only have to take one new class. I will finish next summer '11. Just waiting to be accepted into their system!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;I am going to post this as is, cuz I have other things to write about. I saw how long it has been since I last posted! Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. They really got me through. Here's to a new much better normal!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-69983187944301565?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/69983187944301565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=69983187944301565' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/69983187944301565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/69983187944301565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-have-had-worst-time-deciding-what-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-5586780958473036733</id><published>2010-06-27T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T09:18:01.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yet another circle?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;So, I think most of you know that I am moving back to Colorado Springs. I am sad that I couldn't make things work here, and am&amp;nbsp;going to miss my family and friends here more than they know. But at the same time, I am so excited to go back! I can't wait for my second chance&amp;nbsp;in the Springs to begin. I have learned a lot about myself during this long ordeal of my own making. I know I haven't shared much about how the getting back to the Springs thing all came about. So, here is the short of it:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Back in April, I read on Fb that my job was open again. One of the Supervisor's was having their baby soon, and wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom, so the girl that took my job switched to a 10 month position leaving my old job wide open. I had been missing Colorado and all the people there I left behind greatly around that time, knowing that I had made a huge mistake leaving. I called one of my old bosses, who has always been my mentor, to get the skinny. I really wasn't thinking when I made the call that this could be my opportunity to come back, I just wanted to know what happened. She told me why there was the vacancy, then proceeded to beg me to come back. I couldn't help but get excited about the idea, really excited! Really, there could be a chance?? I hadn't let it enter my mind that I could ever go back in a million years. She also told me that 2 people that made my life miserable had left. Well, one had left a while ago, the other one (you might recall that VP of HR guy who prided himself at being an ass) was set to retire in May. She asked me to call Janice, who was my most recent boss, to see if there was a chance. So, after praying over it with the help of Karen and Trevor, and talking to Carey who had an interesting perspective on the whole thing, I decided to call. I talked with Janice, and she was excited about the idea of me coming back. She told me she would talk to HR, and didn't think there would be a problem, even though I wasn't so confident of that. Janice called me back in a couple of days, and said that there were no road blocks to me coming back. All I had to do is send in my current resume, and I would need to interview in about a week. I did that, and I waited. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;I waited awhile longer than I expected with no word. I finally emailed Janice asking what was happening. She wrote me back and said that they decided that they had to interview in house applications first, since the notice was sent out in house only at that time. I could interview after that, should be another week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Another week went by and nothing. I waited almost 2 weeks before contacting Janice again by email. The email shot back that she was at a conference for another several days, so still waiting. When she came back, she told me that the interviewing process was being delayed due to conferences and vacations, but I should hear something soon. I started to really worry at this point. While I was waiting this whole time, I knew I had to make some decisions about my house and my job here. If I did get the job in CO, I needed to have a moving van booked early enough, and I wanted to give proper notice. I was hoping to give them a month to find a teacher for my classroom. Plus, my house was in danger of going back to the bank at this point, if truth be known. So, I started the work to get my house back just in case, thinking I could just give the deed to the bank if the whole thing goes bust. I was also looking for jobs here and houses to rent, like I have been doing for months now. I was able to get my house back in good standing, but still needed the job!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;After another few weeks of waiting and worrying, I started to crack up slightly. No one from CO was talking anymore. I was getting no information at all, and not as much encouragement as I was before. This wasn't feeling right at all. But I also wasn't getting a firm no either. Actually was getting nothing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One night, I just lost it. Not only was it now&amp;nbsp; June, but my window to give 2 weeks notice or more was closing in. I panicked, and actually called Janice on her cell phone. I am sure it was apparent by my message that I was upset, I can't hide my emotions very well. I simply asked that if the answer really was no, that someone just needs to tell me, I just need to know. She didn't call me back that night, so another day of waiting. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I finally got a call from her, and what she told me was there was bad news and good news. The bad news was that HR ( namely Ron) and the CEO would not support me coming back as a Supervisor. Officially speaking because there were good in house candidates for the job and I have left the agency twice. Unofficially because Ron didn't want me back in that role because he would have to "deal" with me. He had also decided to stay on another year to help get the agency through another Federal Review. He would, however support me going back as as Teacher, which I know he thinks is really funny and sticking it to me. My lady's in CD though fought for me hard. As a result, it was clear there was no budging as far as me coming back as a Supervisor, but they conceded at letting me come back as an ECSE, Special Ed. Janice asked if I would be interested. I was disappointed at first. Guess I thought I would be able to have a real do-over. Step back into&amp;nbsp;my old&amp;nbsp;life I selfishly gave up and make things right. I thought I really did love that job, I was good at it. Then I thought about it, and prayed. The more I did that the more I started to see that this may be what God has always wanted for me all along. I had several opportunities to be an ECSE in the past, but because I wasn't really wanting to go back to school I went in other directions. Plus, I liked that I had some power and influence in my position as Supervisor. I was respected, whether I felt it was deserved or not. But I am also good at working with Sp Ed kids. Kids that teachers are afraid of and don't want to understand because their plates are so full as it is. Whenever i have a chance to work with these kids, it is so rewarding. Not to mention, I can do my own thing without&amp;nbsp;fear of doing something politically wrong. I don't have to be the bad guy, or swallow my principles to keep my job. So, I accepted the&amp;nbsp;job! Now, I can't wait to get started! I still have to complete my License and re-enroll in school, so still have a few steps to go, but I can finally feel the weight lifting off of me. I did find out that Ron pulled some tricks to derail me getting interviewed, so it wasn't just vacations and such that delayed this process. Anyway, I feel happy for the first time since this whole thing started 9 months ago! I feel like me again.&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;I can't wait to see my weed infested house!!! I can't wait to see the mountains again! I can't hardly stand how excited I am!! With all that though, I am so sad that I couldn't make it work here. Sad to leave my family, who are really sad to see me go. My brother even tried to find me a job in Buffalo to keep me here. I will greatly miss my friends here too so much, and their awesome kids. I am vowing to make more visits here happen once I am back on my feet. And hopefully some of you will come visit me too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-5586780958473036733?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5586780958473036733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=5586780958473036733' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5586780958473036733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5586780958473036733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/06/yet-another-circle-so-i-think-most-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-9175263427660933062</id><published>2010-05-23T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T18:57:16.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Banashed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;The dogs, at least the big ones have been banished.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;They are rebelling, they know this isn't their home, so things have been happening.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;One thing after another.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Millie even growls at my roommate, who has been very good to her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;So, Rooby &amp;amp; Millie will be going back to live with my mom.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;They aren't much happier at her house either.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Similar things were happening there too.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;So much for having them with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Sigh....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-9175263427660933062?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9175263427660933062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=9175263427660933062' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/9175263427660933062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/9175263427660933062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/05/dogs-dogs-at-least-big-ones-have-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-1828715452158291001</id><published>2010-05-16T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T13:39:49.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #76a5af;"&gt;If I could go back, would I? Yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #76a5af;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It was all a big mistake. I listened to the wrong voice. I stepped outside of his will. I didn't wait for doors to open or close. I just left. I packed up my life and I ran. I convinced myself that God was pulling me in this direction back where I thought I would be protected and safe. Things got hard, and I ran. That is what I do, and that is what I did. Did I feel the pull to come here, yes I did. But I didn't wait to find out who the pull was coming from. I didn't wait to find out if this was a God plan for me. I know when God wants you to do something he will open the right doors, and he will clear the path. I didn't want to wait for him to show me if the doors would be open for me or if they would be closed, because I didn't want to be a grown up and deal with the life I had, a life that was not that bad turns out. I guess I thought that God knows what I will do even if it is the wrong thing, and he will&amp;nbsp;use it for good. I just didn't anticipate learning this kind of lesson. From the moment I arrived in SD, it has felt wrong.&amp;nbsp;I brushed it off for awhile and focused&amp;nbsp;on finding a job. But no matter what work I found or where I found to lived, it was all wrong.&amp;nbsp;Several people have wanted to know why I can't just appreciate what I&amp;nbsp;now have and move forward, well I have tried. You might not see that, but I have. I just&amp;nbsp;keep running into road blocks and I can't shake the feeling that I took the wrong road. I can't shake it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #76a5af;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So, now I see where I went wrong. The same thing I struggle with all the time, and that is trust. I didn't have it. I didn't trust God to show me.&amp;nbsp;I didn't want to wait around. I had to have control. When I was in CO, no jobs were presenting themselves to me in SD. My house was not getting any traffic, nor did it sell once I left. I struggled to find a job I could live off of. I couldn't, and still can't find a place of my own that I can keep my dogs. I have cost my mom more money than I ever want to really think about. I had decided that if this was truly a God thing, things would just happen. The path would just open up. It never did. Instead it continues to feel wrong. I listened to this weeks sermon by Dr. Stanley from In Touch Ministries today, and it really hit home. He basically said when you step outside his will for you, everything you have turns to ash. My life is full of ashes, that is how I feel. I have experienced Gods will for me in the past, and it is much different than what is happening now. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #76a5af;"&gt;So, if I have a chance for a do over, yes I will take it. Recently my old job has opened back up in CO. I will be interviewing for it. My house is still there waiting for me. The people in my old job that were making life difficult have left the agency. This time though, even though I want to book a moving van and run back to CO right now, I will wait. I am 100 % waiting on God as hard as that is for me. If he truly wants me back there, he will open those doors. If not they will be closed forever. I will wait. I am waiting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-1828715452158291001?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1828715452158291001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=1828715452158291001' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1828715452158291001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1828715452158291001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/05/if-i-could-go-back-would-i-yes.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7602970813845325058</id><published>2010-04-11T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T12:57:42.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: purple;"&gt;Hi from the removed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;After 6 months here in SD, things are slowly getting better. I just wish my attitude would keep up. Some time ago I started to run out of my happy pills, so I had to stagger them to keep myself from completely losing it. As a result I have been emotionally up and down. One minute laughing and hopeful, the next sad and hopeless. When things weren't going my way, instead of thinking about what is going right, I sunk lower into depression. My anxiety level at work is not good right now. I work in a program that is difficult to keep a normal routine going, which causes my kids to get pretty crazy, to put it nicely, which causes my anxiety to spike. I feel out of control, and am questioning my ability to be a teacher. Nothing I know to do seems to work when things get like this with the kids. I am frustrated. When I get frustrated I also feel down on myself. It is currently a vicious cycle. To make it worse, I have officially ran out of the happy pills. My emotions are even more erratic. Pile on the fact that I haven't had a normal bed until just this week, so I have had weekly migraines and severe neck and back pain. I haven't been keeping in touch very well, mostly because I feel sooooo negative. Who wants to talk to a person like that. Things are suppose to be rosy by now. I haven't seen my friend here much either. It has been hard because I had to go back to Belle every weekend since&amp;nbsp;early March because my mom has been taking care of my dogs. I had to live in a motel for a month, and couldn't have my dogs. Living in the motel, although humiliating at first, turned out to be an ok situation. The people that owned it were amazing people. Just couldn't sleep there because of paper thin walls. My dog Millie has been experiencing anxiety since I have been gone, so my mom&amp;nbsp;has&amp;nbsp;had to clean up messes almost every day because of it. So, I would feel guilty staying in RC when mom has had to&amp;nbsp;deal with my&amp;nbsp;dog all week. Now I am here more often, dogs are with me, but I am in deep with depression. Everytime, I feel like calling someone, I just can't because I know I won't have&amp;nbsp;many positive things to say, just so down on myself. So, this weekend I hung out in RC by myself, trying to get myself to snap out of it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Things that are starting to go right:&amp;nbsp;My brother was here this week and helped me to switch my roomate's futon for my bed. I thought that futon was going to kill me. I saw a chiropracter Saturday, so my neck is getting much better. I am sleeping better, but still getting up for some reason in the middle of the night, have I started a habit? I really haven't had good sleep since I moved to SD. I am not a pseron who can function on erratic sleep. I do think sleep will continue to get better now. I am staying with a co-worker in her house temporarily. It is weird that the only space I have is my room, the rest is all her's, her things. What is good though, is she is letting me have my dogs here even though she has two cats. She is accomodating and nice. We get along so far. I just fear that I will inadvertanely do something to hurt this arrangement. I am accident prone, and this has gotten me in trouble in the past. So far I have accidently broken a drawer in the kitchen and broke a shade in my&amp;nbsp;bedroom. I DON'T TRY to do these things. I wasn't being reckless on either occassion. Still she has been cool about things. I am living here on a month-to-month basis until I find my own place and roomate.&amp;nbsp;I just recently got health insurance, so now I have to try and get an appointment that works with my work schedule. Anytime off needs to be requested&amp;nbsp; 3 weeks inadvance, plus I don't have leave time until August. So, I am hoping I can get a late Dr. appointment so that I can finally get those happy pills. It sucks to know that I am a lifer, dependant on drugs to make me a normal person. I do know that i don't like this person I am at the moment. Here's to hoping that my next post will sound much much better.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;PS: Sorry about my spelling. Don't seem to have spell check on my blogger anymore, nor do I have a dictionary at my disposal;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-7602970813845325058?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7602970813845325058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7602970813845325058' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7602970813845325058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7602970813845325058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/hi-from-removed.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3283447205655135605</id><published>2010-02-03T12:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T12:00:45.469-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;Hi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I am sitting here staring at the screen, not sure where to start.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;So much has happened and not happened in the last 4 months, I just can't......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;There were times here and there when I found a chance&amp;nbsp;to write in the blog, but couldn't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;Kind of sucks to be seen crying in the Library. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;And crying is what I do when I unload everything on you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;My blog has always been my outlet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;One good thing though, I wasn't then able to throw up on you and all over the screen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;At this point the best way I can sum up the last four months is the word&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;stripped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;It just feels like everything I was, am, and thought I wanted or was going to have here has been slowly stripped off of me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I know this isn't really a bad thing, and when I come out the other side, and I will, I will be what and where I am suppose to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;It's just being stripped hurts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;A lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;While looking for more work, I have been reflecting on my life and where I hope to go from here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I guess, now that I don't have a "career", I never knew how much you wrap yourself into having a career. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;So much of your identity is intertwined in what you do for a living whether you love it or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I&amp;nbsp;have been&amp;nbsp;surprised at how humiliated I feel sometimes when I am asked why I left my job, and the look on peoples face when I tell them I haven't landed a career here yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;Of course, it is likely I interpret a look that may not really be there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I sometimes feel embarassed when I tell people that I am tutoring right now and haven't been able to find another part time job, and I have been trying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;Then there is the rejection.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I have applied for several serious jobs here, and have been passed over. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;Sounds weird to say this, but that has never happened to me before!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I have always gotten any job I have set out for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;So it is hard keeping the old spirits up somedays.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I do have up days though, which is why I made myself write today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;Whenever I go for a walk at Canyon Lake Park, like I did today, I feel really hopeful and happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;It's like the life I envisioned is just so close....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I can see it, even if I can't touch it, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-3283447205655135605?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3283447205655135605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3283447205655135605' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3283447205655135605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3283447205655135605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/hi-i-am-sitting-here-staring-at-screen.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-4354840476454854399</id><published>2010-01-11T11:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T11:29:44.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;New update:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;I miss blogging.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;I miss reading your blogs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Things have been wonderful/and very difficult.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;I quit the Insurance job today. I was asked if I was passionate about insurance, and ya know what? I'm not! My boss was much more difficult to work with than I thought, and I didn't completely change the course of my life to put up with all that again for a job that is just a job for me. Still tutoring though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Still working on trying to get that Professional Training job. Was able to finally send videos of me, so that should help.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;I may be selling my house this week....PRAY!!!! I do have somene interested &amp;amp; could see an offer.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;It actually has been fun living with my mom, even though she doesn't live in RC, which would make the whole job thing easier for me. We really have been bonding and connecting,&amp;nbsp; love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Downside: my dog bit off part of my mom's dog's ear this weekend. I FELT BEYOND HORRIBLE. I can't properly explain why, but this sort of thing has been happening in one form or another&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;since I moved back here. I am so tired of feeling like I am a burden on people.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Looking for another part-time job until I find the real thing. The coffee shop idea has been resurfacing for some reason. Hmmmm, will someone please tell me what I am going to be when I grow up???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Again, I miss you all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-4354840476454854399?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4354840476454854399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=4354840476454854399' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4354840476454854399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4354840476454854399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-update-i-miss-blogging.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7163817351917234566</id><published>2009-12-07T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T15:46:55.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;Have you all been missin me, cuz I have been going through withdrawls for all-y'all! This is a very quick update today: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;I can only seem to use a computer when I am at the Library, so blogs are not happenin for me right now. Don't forget about me please! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;I have been training at my Tutoring job for the past few weeks. Will start working with kids this Wed. I will be working with 3rd-8th graders. Should be interesting, hoping it is fun too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;Started working part time at an Insurance Agency. Mostly I am studying for the License Exams, which I need to pass in January. It is like learning a foreign language! But when I pass, I can be a full time agent. The people there have been really nice so far.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;Still hopeful at landing the Training Position I want so bad. I finally borrowed my cousin's video camera so I can tape myself talking for 10 minutes. I was trying to get my former coworkers to send me some footage of a couple of my trainings, but I guess they couldn't figure out how to separate me from the rest, so I don't think that is going to happen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;I am staying with my mom mostly, driving back and forth between Belle &amp;amp; RC. It hasn't been too bad, just makes for a long day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;Tomorrow night I am going to a Grown-Up Christmas Party for the Chamber of Commerce! My Insurance boss is a Vice-Chair on the board, so I have to go, but I am feeling excited about it. You never know who I may run into there! Got myself a pretty red sweater and some jewelry to mark the occasion. Haven't decided if I am wearing it with a pencil skirt and boots, or black dress pants. I will tell ya all about it when I can. Miss you all!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-7163817351917234566?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7163817351917234566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7163817351917234566' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7163817351917234566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7163817351917234566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/12/have-you-all-been-missin-me-cuz-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8903295486689401448</id><published>2009-11-15T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T08:35:02.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;So, I am much sunnier today. I do feel there is a slight pattern here. When I spend too much time at my mom's house, as much as I do love her, I feel a pull down there. Maybe it has something to do with cigerette smoke that lingers in the air and the 10 animals that live in the house! Once I spent a day in RC, I started feel much more optimistic. That is kind of how it has been working. I really just can't wait for the day when I have my own place here in RC and I don't have to be separated from my dogs and live through a suitcase. There will be a day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8903295486689401448?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8903295486689401448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8903295486689401448' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8903295486689401448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8903295486689401448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-i-am-much-sunnier-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2594479473155389028</id><published>2009-11-14T09:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T09:13:19.666-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #134f5c;"&gt;Hi, long time no hear from me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sorry I haven't written much. Mostly I am not really sure what to write. I guess maybe I thought I would have much more exciting happy things to write about by now. I have also been computer challenged these days. No internet at my mom's, and I share the internet at Suree's. I did make a packed with myself to only write positive things in an effort to also be thinking more positively, but I am challenged in that area also. I know it was a God thing to come here. I know it in my bones and my heart. But I guess I thought since it is a God thing that I am here, things will just fall into place. I had an unrealistic idea of how things would turn out once I was here. The house would miraculously get sold in a few short weeks, and I will have landed my dream job with benefits and all. Of course, I'm not really clear about what my dream job is, and the house is still unsold. I don't like always writing negative things either, so it is easier to not write when I am not feeling positive I guess, which is often lately. I try to look and sound optimistic when I talk to people, but my insides are a mess. I didn't come here to feel sorry for myself. I came here to start living. I want to start living now. I pray everyday for a better perspective and lay all my worries down at his feet, but it is getting exhausting. I am tired. I'm tired of me right now. I just so want to be happy, why is this so hard for me to just be....happy. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-2594479473155389028?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2594479473155389028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2594479473155389028' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2594479473155389028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2594479473155389028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/11/hi-long-time-no-hear-from-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-693349095321380519</id><published>2009-10-28T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T22:37:23.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Living out of a suitcase&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;That is what I am doing. I have most of what is not in storage at my mom's. I pack a suitcase when I go to Suree's and a Digby, then come back to Belle for a few days, pack another suitcase and a Digby and go back to Suree's. This week, I packed a suitcase and  Millie and came to Buffalo to hang with my Bro and Fam. Tomorrow, weather permitting, I am going back to Belle for the night, packing a suitcase again to go to Suree's to help her with her Jewelry party. I'll stay at her house probably the whole weekend, then go back to Belle until I have an Interview or something. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;This appears to be my life at the moment. Not a bad gig really, just hoping to have a job before my money is all gone. I really have been trying to give this to God, but I AM FREAKED OUT! I really want to be that person that shows a 100% faith. I have always wanted to be the example, but never have been. I do believe God can do great things, so why can't I believe he can do them with me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-693349095321380519?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/693349095321380519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=693349095321380519' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/693349095321380519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/693349095321380519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/living-out-of-suitcase-that-is-what-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-1123924122755562766</id><published>2009-10-24T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T10:53:56.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Stupid Facebook!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Facebook won't let me log in, all I wanted to do is tell people that I will be without internet until Monday night, and will have poor cell reception until Friday. I HATE feeling out of touch!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Stupid Facebook.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-1123924122755562766?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1123924122755562766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=1123924122755562766' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1123924122755562766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1123924122755562766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/stupid-facebook-facebook-wont-let-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2533954637168949087</id><published>2009-10-19T08:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T08:28:36.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Things I miss about Colorado Springs:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Pikes Peak and the Rocky Mountain skyline&lt;br /&gt;2. Bear Creek Dog Park&lt;br /&gt;3. My co-workers&lt;br /&gt;4. My House (to a degree)&lt;br /&gt;5. Bronco fans everywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Things I love about being in the Black Hills:&lt;br /&gt;1. A LOT LESS PEOPLE!&lt;br /&gt;2. Recognizing people I know once in awhile:)&lt;br /&gt;3. Memories all around me&lt;br /&gt;4. Good friends&lt;br /&gt;5. Family so close&lt;br /&gt;6. Beautiful scenery&lt;br /&gt;7. Being able to help my mom when she needs it.&lt;br /&gt;8. Closer to my God-child:) (I see him at the end of the month!!)&lt;br /&gt;9. Within a reasonable driving distance to more friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if I only had a job.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-2533954637168949087?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2533954637168949087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2533954637168949087' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2533954637168949087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2533954637168949087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/things-i-miss-about-colorado-springs-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7912821052827868429</id><published>2009-10-12T08:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T08:52:52.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 222px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 167px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391740709894359778" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/StNPm-ZECuI/AAAAAAAAAyE/-WjWdMVDOlw/s400/colorado.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;I guess this should say, Good-bye from Colorado. I haven't had much time to blog, and I have no idea what is happening in all of your bloglands, but hopefully now I can start getting caught up. I will try to capture what has been going on in the last week, but still could take me awhile to finish this. But here it goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;I am not going into the actual move day, but I will say that having my brother there with me was a Godsend, I couldn't have done it without him seriously! It was hard to leave my house, I have to say. Anyway, I said good-bye to Colorado without a tear, but a little sadness. I was mostly just ready to get to my destination. Brook &amp;amp; I left at 2pm, so we knew it was going to be a long one. We pulled into RC at 10pm, very very tired. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;I ended up renting a storage unit from Milt, the dad, which Brook finally talked me into to. But you know, it isn't that weird like I thought it would be. I think the time in Colorado really strengthened me and I don't feel like I can get sucked in. Hopefully I am not tested here, but I think I finally understand that I can be around him without wanting to dredge anything up, without hurt feelings, and not letting myself get sucked in to what goes on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;I spent some time at my mom's getting my stuff settled here in a small place with ALLLL the animals:) It's been really nice, though being here. Mom &amp;amp; I have made dinner together and talked, it's been nice, that's all I can say. There has been a little bit of Millie &amp;amp; Digby drama. Both have been squeezing themselves through the bars of mom's fence. The first time I discovered this....picture Millie running around the field and Digby running around the legs of two big horses searching for his crack...horse poo! I flipped out!! By the time I got outside, he was running across to the neighbors towards their horse pen. There are several more horses in that pen, and not use to dogs running around them, like my mom's horses are. He wasn't listening at all to me. I was screaming in terror. All I could picture was a trampled Digby. Keep in mind that he also ran away at the storage place, he couldn't be found FOREVER. Turned out, he was in the horse pasture eating crack! I was able to grab Millie easily, but Digby was much harder. I did finally catch him. After I saw with my own eyes Millie squeeze through the bars, I knew something had to be done, so I pushed back when I was going to RC and reinforced the fence, no easy task. I couldn't leave until I knew my Millie was going to be safe. Millie escaped far moe often than Digby. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Being in RC is both amazing and weird. What I mean by weird is that it is not feeling real or permanent. I still feel like I am on vacation, and will be going back soon. I keep telling myself I live here now, but it hasn't sunk in yet. I do, though seem to get very excited whenever I recognize someone. I can't help it, I love it so much! For the past 12 years it has not been that way at all, and I missed knowing someone where I went. I think it makes me feel like I belong, that is the only way I can describe it. I saw Sean Coyne at Church Sunday, that was awesome! Oh, and hanging out with Suree and Cher, priceless. I love being with friends that know my insides, and are just happy to be in the same room with me, doesn't matter what we are doing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;The job front, slow going. I have been here a week and have not found an actual job. Leads yes, but no nibbles. Doesn't help that I didn't have Internet at my mom's, I do now thanks to Suree's hubby:). I also had lots of technical difficulties, so as a result I wasn't able to get access to my resume until yesterday, and I had to go back to Belle. I did apply for a Training job, and printed out my resume to send in the mail to them. I am really hoping for this job, I think it would be a lot of fun, and I am only in charge of myself! But, we shall see what is in the cards. I will go back to RC Wed. this week, and take my resume to a few places and drop off more apps, that I had forgot in Belle last time. So, I keep moving forward. Maybe when I get a job it will all feel real! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Anyway, I am here. I am home:) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 206px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 119px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392108054346824834" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/StSdtPHdfII/AAAAAAAAAyM/iTePPpVg7VI/s400/southdakota.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/34626250-7912821052827868429?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7912821052827868429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7912821052827868429' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7912821052827868429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7912821052827868429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-guess-this-should-say-good-bye-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/StNPm-ZECuI/AAAAAAAAAyE/-WjWdMVDOlw/s72-c/colorado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3870259943951557681</id><published>2009-09-27T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T11:20:08.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;To keep myself from crying more, cuz it has been a cry fest complete with PMS to make it more interesting and fun, I am going to update you all with a brief list of happenings for each day of last week:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Monday- Drove to work in the morning, took a deep look at the mountains in front of me and started to cry. They really are the best part of my drive to work. Felt apprehensive about telling everyone the next day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Tuesday- My bosses waited to the VERY end of our staff meeting to announce my news. I lost it, and so did most everyone else. I don't know why but that reaction surprised me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Wednesday- I never realized in a million years that I would be someone who people really actually respected in my profession. Although good to realize this, it did make me wonder if I was doing the right thing. I am losing a professional job here, part of my identity. What am I crazy?! My Realtor came over to give me the contract. Looks like the best way to get out of my mortgage is to go into a Short-Sale. This means we set up the asking price low to move it, sucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Thursday- Was feeling pretty good today about my new prospects for my future. I really feel that I am suppose to be going in a new direction and all the pieces will fall into place. Then we offered one of my teachers my job. This person has always given me mixed feelings. I am worried that she could dismantle everything I have built up, and I think she could become our CEO's spy. That is a long story in itself. My boss wanted someone easier to train, and because she has knowledge of CPCD, classroom, and Literacy....not to mention she doesn't have to go through the hiring process, she is the one. I had to go a long with an outward positive attitude as to give her a fair shake, but it pisses me off too. Again, am I making the right decision?? People who heard about the move were less than enthusiastic. But it is what it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Friday- Exhaustion. I came home late, and was so tired all I could do was make dinner, pour a glass of wine and cry on the couch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Saturday- My friend Yvonne came over to get me really started on the packing. I still only had 4 boxes packed plus several suitcases of clothes. Why is it I don't think I have anything to wear until I move!? Anyway, she helped me get my kitchen packed up, that was huge! Thank you Yvonne. She is the only one from work who actually followed through with her offer to help pack. My Realtor came by and put the sign up in the front lawn. That was a pause. Owning my house has been hard, but seeing that sign about killed me. This was my place, mine....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Sunday- Of course I am procrastinating with the packing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-3870259943951557681?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3870259943951557681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3870259943951557681' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3870259943951557681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3870259943951557681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/to-keep-myself-from-crying-more-cuz-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7021351034976227028</id><published>2009-09-19T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T12:03:53.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zefz4m8ER9"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zefz4m8ER9&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;This song came on the radio as I was driving home from work yesterday. I had just sent in my resignation and was feeling panic, tears welling up. Then I heard this song. It reminded me that I am going in the right direction. A direction I have needed to go for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to say that leaving here feels good at the moment. I am grieving the loss of the dream I had when I first moved here, a dream that didn't pan out. But I gave it a good go for the past 12 years! I have just stalled here. I will miss the co-workers that always had my back. I will miss my silly chiropractor that thinks it is hilarious that I am from SD, said good-bye to him today. I said good -bye to my wacky fun hair lady who gave me wine as she did whatever she wanted to my hair. I told my former boss and mentor of my decision this last Monday. We cried together, and she begged me to stay. She said that they would even get me into another position, one completely out of the compliance arena. When I told my current boss, she cried too! I wasn't expecting that. I have been getting to know her style this past year, but wasn't completely there. I told 2 of my past peers, who are still at work but in different jobs because of the reconstruction of our department last year. One of them cried, which made me cry too. I have been doing a lot of crying. But I am ready for the new phase. I have 2 more weeks of good-byes to come before it is all said and done. I may go to my favorite dogpark today and stare at the beautiful mountains that brought me here. Tuesday, I tell the rest of my department. One day at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-7021351034976227028?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7021351034976227028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7021351034976227028' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7021351034976227028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7021351034976227028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/httpwww.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-1649849855271801773</id><published>2009-09-13T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T11:53:22.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I said Good-bye to my church, I think, today. I didn't feel bad about leaving behind the creepy guy that asked me out last time, cuz he is still being weird and creepy. However, something slightly ironic did occur. A lady from church approached me and said that she and the paster's wife have been praying about starting a bible study for us single women. She said they were afraid that singles will end up leaving the church if they didn't do something. I know that is true. Unfortunately for me, I will most likely be gone when it starts, but I told her that it is a real need in our church, and I am so glad they are going to do this. So, I felt a little sad, but I don't think it is a "sign" to stay. The sermon seemed tailored made for me too. One very big phrase came out, "Do not be afraid of your enemies". One example he used is someone who wants to write a letter to the editor about something they find morally wrong, but are afraid of exposing themselves and leaving them open to back lash. I plan on writing a letter to our Board before I leave, but have been shying away from it slightly because of this reason. So, I guess I am still writing my letter. Paster also said, don't quit. I have put something in motion here. I know in my heart it is the right thing to do, but I have waves of emotion over it because I will be letting people down in a big way. I will miss what I love about Colorado, and even though I have been lonely here, I have a fear of what lies ahead. I want to trust with all my heart, so I have to reaffirm my trust several times a day. I still don't have a line on a job, but my sense is that I need to leave the first week of Oct. and the job will come. I will have paid my mortgage by then, and will be ok with that until Nov. So, this means I am putting in my resignation this week, most likely Friday. None f this feels good at all, but I know with every fiber of my being that this is what I am to do. Another point the paster talked about, be obedient. Ok Lord, you asked for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-1649849855271801773?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1649849855271801773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=1649849855271801773' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1649849855271801773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1649849855271801773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-said-good-bye-to-my-church-i-think.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2986078164930080187</id><published>2009-09-12T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T19:48:33.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>7 things that I love:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;God.&lt;/span&gt;  I don't always put God first, but that is where he should be. Even though I fight him on most everything, he always proves he knows best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Friends.&lt;/span&gt; My true friends have been with me a long time, and have seen me through a lot of good and bad times. I would not have gotten through these last three years with out all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Coffee&lt;/span&gt;.  LOVE IT!! What else can I say. I don't care about the negatives, coffee makes me happy, and keeps the headaches away;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Family.&lt;/span&gt;  I may have a somewhat dysfunctional family, but they have always loved me no matter what, and have always and will always be there. I think I was suppose to live away from them for a long period of time so that I can finally realize how much they mean to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Really Good Food&lt;/span&gt;. Let's face it, I like to eat! There isn't much I won't eat or try, even chocolate covered bacon with roasted almonds on top. Food also makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Girlfriends&lt;/span&gt;. I can't wait to live near some really awesome girlfriends!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My dogs&lt;/span&gt;. My dogs, starting with Rooby, opened up a whole new world for me. They are my kids, and they love me even when I lose my temper. They never hold it against me. They are so happy to see me when I come home, and I never get tired of that. They were placed in my life to help make things less lonely. Thank you #1!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-2986078164930080187?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2986078164930080187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2986078164930080187' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2986078164930080187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2986078164930080187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/7-things-that-i-love-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3090757774957207546</id><published>2009-09-06T10:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T10:57:10.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Flip!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I know what I am going to do,&lt;br /&gt;and I am so full of joy I can hardly stand it!&lt;br /&gt;The power of prayer and some very good friends!&lt;br /&gt;Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-3090757774957207546?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3090757774957207546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3090757774957207546' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3090757774957207546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3090757774957207546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/flip-i-know-what-i-am-going-to-do-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2172719517127363744</id><published>2009-09-05T08:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T09:28:26.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;Hard Choices, big scary decisions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need your opinion. Work is again raising it's ugly ugly head. I'll give you a brief description then ask you to weigh in on the 2 directions I need to consider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You all know from previous posts about work in the last couple of years that the culture has been moving away from being a family business to a something more like a cold corporate hostile environment. Last year my department was the target with the major restructuring that happened and many people feared would lose their jobs. It was a very painful process. This year the targets are other departments mainly, but HR is again flexing their power over everyone. One lady who has been with us for many years was given 3 choices yesterday. 1) Be fired. 2) Resign 3) or be demoted. As humiliating as that was, she chose to be demoted because she needs a job. She has never been under disciplinary action n the past, so...... Another very sweet nurse, also been with us for years, was written up this week with a series of several stupid silly offenses that went back to 2005! One example is she was 6 minutes late for a meeting once. The write up was clearly designed to push her out, and if she didn't go all she had to do is breath wrong, and she would be fired. She chose to retire early. Many staff, including me received write ups (serious ones) because we missed a deadline in getting a web based training completed. The training deadline was in the middle of our major training week, and classrooms had only a few days to set up their classrooms. As for me, I was DOING trainings, orienting new people, trying to get new Supervisors set, starting a new program.......We all know we screwed up by missing the deadline. I expect to be held accountable, as well as to hold my staff accountable, but the punishment in this case is very drastic and does not fit the offense. I wanted to talk with my staff, establish with them that they needed to get it done, set a date that it must be done, and document it. The next step if it was still not done is an informal write up with another deadline, and a strong message that the next time there will be a formal write up. This was not a safety issue, it does not warrant an immediate formal write up. HR wants to send a message. A message of fear in my opinion. By doing this, really what they are doing is sending a message that you can be written up and possibly terminated for any offense. So...... these are my 2 recourses as I see it. Regardless, it is time to go:&lt;br /&gt;1) I resign and walk away. In resigning, I can have an exit interview with HR, which will give me the opportunity to explain why I am leaving. Problem with this is I walk away with only my last paycheck, and if HR doesn't want to let anyone know what I said, they will just bury my statement. The good thing is I can use them as a reference (which is, she was employed here at such and such dates) and I don't have the stigma of being fired. I can put my house up for sale, and leave town hoping to get a good job very soon because I will still have a mortgage. I may have to declare bankruptcy.&lt;br /&gt;2) I can take a stand and refuse to have my teachers sign their PIP's (formal write up). One major reason for this is staff may not be eligible for tuition reimbursement with a PIP in their file, this includes me. PIP's never leave your file, and if HR ever wants a reason to get rid of you quickly, they already have a PIP in your file to use against you. By me refusing to sign mine or letting my teachers sign theirs, I will be seen as adversarial. Most likely I will have set myself up to be fired. The good thing about that is I am eligible for unemployment benefits, I may have a clause in my home insurance that if fired they will pay my mortgage for a time buying me time. I am looking into the insurance thing now. The bad thing(s) is I will have a very ugly battle of wills with a man who hates women with a passion. He will do everything in his power to humiliate me. Plus the fact that I was fired from an organization, respected in the state of Colorado, that I have been with for nearly 10 years. But I may have time to get my house on the market, move and get a job before I have to start paying the mortgage again.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my plan is to live with my mom, and find a job in RC. I am looking at selling everything, which kills me and that is very hard to explain to you all because it is just stuff. I have my 3 dogs to worry about, it is not an option to give them away, they are my family. I hate this feeling of utterly no security, but I also think God has been pushing me to go here. Complete and total surrender. The last piece of the puzzle, and the most painful for me. I think about Bobby's post about being totally obedient to God, and can I do it? Advise and prayers please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-2172719517127363744?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2172719517127363744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2172719517127363744' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2172719517127363744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2172719517127363744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/hard-choices-big-scary-decisions-i-need.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-5296673127662345425</id><published>2009-08-24T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T21:11:26.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Can you say....&lt;br /&gt;PMS?&lt;br /&gt;Not to minimize how I am feeling,&lt;br /&gt;not at all I feel it.&lt;br /&gt;However, it is more intense during this week.&lt;br /&gt;I realized last night where I was in the month:)&lt;br /&gt;Today was better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/34626250-5296673127662345425?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5296673127662345425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=5296673127662345425' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5296673127662345425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5296673127662345425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/can-you-say.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-4227236159170884026</id><published>2009-08-23T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T17:48:39.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm tired of being sad.&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of being lonely.&lt;br /&gt;I just really want to go home,&lt;br /&gt;but I can't.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-4227236159170884026?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4227236159170884026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=4227236159170884026' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4227236159170884026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4227236159170884026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-tired-of-being-sad.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-6865752164452426294</id><published>2009-08-23T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T12:39:30.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;Can you say "Awkward?"??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I did Coffee at church. I love doing coffee because people have to come to me and talk to me, and it is an easy exchange with the starting topic of... coffee. Anyway, it is about the only time I feel plugged in to church. But something happened today that was way out there in my book. This guy, Frank, is sort of a d0-it-all maintenance guy, came over to talk to me, and basically harass me for being late. This is a regular occurrence, because it is usually he who gets the coffee started because I am late getting there most of the time. Usually it is just a little banter then it is over, I move on to talking to others &amp;amp; making coffee. Today was different. He hovered today, kept coming back over to talk to me. He asked more than once of he could help me, but I really don't need another person in there, it's a tight squeeze as it is. Plus I am faster on my own. So, I politely decline each time. Then he asks me if I am a Facebook or My Space person. I tell him Fb. He asks if he can be my friend on Fb. I said sure! He said, you know I should get your number, I didn't think anything of it at first, so I gave t to him, thinking that I really do need some friends. Then he asked what things I like to do. Next, he says we should hang out sometime. I'm like, sure.... Ok, I really thought he was married this whole time I have been coming here. I knew he has 2 kids, and I thought I saw a woman with him before, but I guess I don't know anything for sure. So, the next time he came around, I checked for a ring, and was dismayed to not see one. He kept saying things like, so you think it is a good idea if we do something sometime?  It started to dawn on me that he isn't looking for a "friend", he wants to date. So, about the third time he  asked if I thought it was a good idea we hang out, I made myself say something. I do NOT want to lead anyone on, and you can probably guess I  wasn't loving this attention from him. I said, what are you looking for, because I am just looking for friends right now. VERY awkward to say the least. He said, well yeah friends then we see what happens. He got pulled away then, and I slipped out of church as fast as I could. He called me on my way home, and apologized if he freaked me out, and said I could call him sometime. Now what am I suppose to do? I wanted to be connected at church, but this wasn't part of the plan. He is very much a part of things at church, and is at everything. This doesn't help my current feelings about going to church right now. What do I say to him??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-6865752164452426294?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6865752164452426294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=6865752164452426294' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6865752164452426294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6865752164452426294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/can-you-say-awkward-today-i-did-coffee.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-1556843718041832643</id><published>2009-08-16T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T09:43:53.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sog2tl3bN1I/AAAAAAAAAxk/-yJJ2PHRmKU/s1600-h/madmen_standard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sog2tl3bN1I/AAAAAAAAAxk/-yJJ2PHRmKU/s400/madmen_standard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370602712525911890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;Thanks Bobbi, that was fun!&lt;br /&gt;Try it everybody. It does make me want to watch the show now. I watched the lead guy on Saturday Night Live last night, he is a really good actor and very easy on the eyes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-1556843718041832643?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1556843718041832643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=1556843718041832643' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1556843718041832643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1556843718041832643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/thanks-bobbi-that-was-fun-try-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sog2tl3bN1I/AAAAAAAAAxk/-yJJ2PHRmKU/s72-c/madmen_standard.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-231201566307517126</id><published>2009-08-12T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T15:28:00.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Soc10z_8TgI/AAAAAAAAAxY/dlxwsXEk-HY/s1600-h/Picture+135.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Soc10z_8TgI/AAAAAAAAAxY/dlxwsXEk-HY/s400/Picture+135.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370320262090477058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Man enough to attempt to play tug-o-war with Rooby!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SoOCtW8a7VI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/bazsQo7lcC8/s1600-h/Picture+133.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SoOCtW8a7VI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/bazsQo7lcC8/s400/Picture+133.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369278896520490322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;(Pre- Groomin)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Digby saga ends, finally! He is mine:) It was an ordeal of my making that lasted just about a month. Turns out if I would have asked for him in the first place, like before there was anyone interested in him, which there hasn't been anyone for a long time, they would have let me adopt him! This is what I let my brain do to me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;A few months back, I watched an Ellen DeGeneres episode about her adoptive dog that ended badly. She adopted a dog from a rescue place. The dog wasn't doing well with the dogs she already had, and a friend's kids started bonding with the dog. So, she decided it would be good for everyone to give the dog to her friend with the kids. Ellen didn't realize that she had broken a major rule with this particular agency. You are not to give aw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;ay the dog for any reason without clearing it with the agency. So, the rescue took the dog back from the family Ellen gave him to. On the TV show, Ellen in tears, pleaded with the agency to give the dog back to the family because they had bonded, and it was Ellen who messed up and not the family. The agency never did give the dog back, instead they adopted him out to someone else. It was pretty hard to watch, and obviously made an impact on my brain. I had visions of something like this happening if I asked to keep Digby. I decided that all rescues must have rules like that, so I really thought they might take him away if I told them I wanted to adopt him, because I would then be a "Foster Failure". I knew I couldn't ever foster again, that's what I told myself. And Digby belongs to them, so what would stop them from attempting to take him back?! I know that sounds ridiculous, but this is what kept replaying in my head all summer. I thought about just keeping him and ignoring the rescue place completely when they would call me to have him come to events, but I just wouldn't be able to look God in the eye one day if I did that. I a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;lso told myself that maybe there won't be anybody wanting him, and the the agency will just forget about me &amp;amp; Digby. Life just can't be that simple. Pretty soon they started calling me for all kinds of events. The rescue was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;stepping up their marketing pl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;ans. While I was on vacation, I decided that I was just going to have to bite the bullet and find out our fate. I made up my mind to call the agency when I got home see what happens. Of course, this wasn't even going to be that easy! Before I got home from SD, I found out someone wanted to meet Digby. I really panicked then. I waited to respond, then I decided I had to go for it anyway. I emailed them, cuz I am a big fat chicken, and asked if I could adopt him. I waited for a response on pins-n-needles. They finally did write back, and what they said surprised me and filled me with dread both at the same time. They told me that they had no problem w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;ith me adopting him, however there has been a family that has been waiting to meet him, and he is still eligible for adoption per the website, so they wanted to be fair to them also. I got the feeling though, right or not, that if they met him &amp;amp; like him, and also wanted to keep him, I could lose him to them. Total strangers to Digby. But I had to force myself to go through with what I started despite the strong urge to be old me and selfishly stop all contact and keep him. I took him to meet the people. They were very nice people, and obviously liked Digby right away. They also knew I wanted to keep him. Despite that little tidbit, they wanted to adopt him, of course I didn't find this out for several days after the Introduction. Usually the people let the rescue know with in 24 hours if they want the dog, so I had been worried for days. Then they call me at work one day, and asked me how I felt after meeting the family about Digby going with them? I burst into tears. I didn't know what else to do. I thought this meant he was gone. I couldn't stop crying, but I managed to answer the question anyway. I told them that I did not have a bad thing to say about the family, they were nice people, and they could take care of him just fine, b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;ut that does not change how I felt about Digby. We talked for a long time, me crying the whole time! When she got off the phone with me, she said that the agency has a big decision to make, and they would get back to me soon. Ok.... Wasn't sure what that meant. Several more days past until last Friday night. I heard the best message ever!! The lady said she wanted to talk to me, and that it was good news, plus I may want to change my answering machine! I though....what? No. I include the names of my two dogs on my machine so people don't think I live alone. I called, and that is when I heard it, I get to keep my dog! She also told me that she was so surprised that I thought they wouldn't let me adopt him. Turns out I can also still be a foster parent if I want to, ha! I told her the Ellen story, and we both had a good laugh over it. I could kick myself though. This could have turned out so much easier and better had I not let my paranoia get to me! Anyway, it really doesn't matter anymore, he's mine! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DL--Yqrj44A&amp;amp;feature=email&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not letting me post the Ellen clip I was talking about, but you can find it on youtube. Iggy is the dog's name if you have to do a search.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Soc1AZnrJaI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/-kAXxOaqa4s/s1600-h/Picture+134.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Soc1AZnrJaI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/-kAXxOaqa4s/s400/Picture+134.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370319361656169890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;( Post Groomin- why so pitiful Digby?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-231201566307517126?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/231201566307517126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=231201566307517126' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/231201566307517126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/231201566307517126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/man-enough-to-attempt-to-play-tug-o-war.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Soc10z_8TgI/AAAAAAAAAxY/dlxwsXEk-HY/s72-c/Picture+135.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-1361803824869564682</id><published>2009-08-11T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T19:18:24.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stay tuned, I do have stuff to say......................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-1361803824869564682?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1361803824869564682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=1361803824869564682' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1361803824869564682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1361803824869564682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/stay-tuned-i-do-have-stuff-to-say.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-5981787740205875622</id><published>2009-07-19T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T12:59:34.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN3PulR5TI/AAAAAAAAAuA/i_wRLgaEUvU/s1600-h/Picture+064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360259093587158322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN3PulR5TI/AAAAAAAAAuA/i_wRLgaEUvU/s400/Picture+064.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The Incline &amp;amp; other hiking places helped me get in shape. I love this pic, cuz hundreds of people hike this trail, if you will, everyday and you are trespassing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN29qkWPmI/AAAAAAAAAt4/_fAyoJ17cCU/s1600-h/Picture+065.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360258783271861858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN29qkWPmI/AAAAAAAAAt4/_fAyoJ17cCU/s400/Picture+065.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Millie &amp;amp; I training for the big Vaca!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN2l4VYofI/AAAAAAAAAtw/Q9GEyoUtkPI/s1600-h/Picture+067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360258374650339826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN2l4VYofI/AAAAAAAAAtw/Q9GEyoUtkPI/s400/Picture+067.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Suree &amp;amp; I were able to play golf twice while I was home. Soooo much fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN2S7wSygI/AAAAAAAAAto/PwxpUEtMBl8/s1600-h/Picture+069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360258049150994946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN2S7wSygI/AAAAAAAAAto/PwxpUEtMBl8/s400/Picture+069.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Janet, Kristi, Angie &amp;amp; me at the Firehouse. Girl's Night out before the reunion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN2Dip6y4I/AAAAAAAAAtg/zQCbK4hFwSw/s1600-h/Picture+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360257784715332482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN2Dip6y4I/AAAAAAAAAtg/zQCbK4hFwSw/s400/Picture+071.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Cher &amp;amp; Suree&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN1z5gq3xI/AAAAAAAAAtY/asKFHCbjejE/s1600-h/Picture+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360257515972648722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN1z5gq3xI/AAAAAAAAAtY/asKFHCbjejE/s400/Picture+073.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Suree &amp;amp; I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN1kOwZqWI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/8A2sjH6-hOc/s1600-h/Picture+077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360257246797867362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN1kOwZqWI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/8A2sjH6-hOc/s400/Picture+077.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Kristi &amp;amp; Niki &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN1T7YIOuI/AAAAAAAAAtI/HmR-wMxX8n4/s1600-h/Picture+084.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360256966717881058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN1T7YIOuI/AAAAAAAAAtI/HmR-wMxX8n4/s400/Picture+084.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Rock Star!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN1Bbq-y7I/AAAAAAAAAtA/DKYxNpFBkOU/s1600-h/Picture+086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360256648969374642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN1Bbq-y7I/AAAAAAAAAtA/DKYxNpFBkOU/s400/Picture+086.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Nice Trev! BBQ fun at Karen's Dad's house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN0seO0lII/AAAAAAAAAs4/rD_Jbi04L0g/s1600-h/Picture+088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360256288879318146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN0seO0lII/AAAAAAAAAs4/rD_Jbi04L0g/s400/Picture+088.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Karen's nephew demonstrating just how big that hole really is!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN0VWFu12I/AAAAAAAAAsw/o5Vt7FMAEZo/s1600-h/Picture+092.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360255891556718434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN0VWFu12I/AAAAAAAAAsw/o5Vt7FMAEZo/s400/Picture+092.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Yes, this phone still works! Jamie's ancient cell phone. We had a good laugh over this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN0HJnzgRI/AAAAAAAAAso/1QJW-vnoBSg/s1600-h/Picture+090.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360255647691800850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN0HJnzgRI/AAAAAAAAAso/1QJW-vnoBSg/s400/Picture+090.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Left!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNz6Z21XEI/AAAAAAAAAsg/X5mz9L9Ov-I/s1600-h/Picture+091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360255428711504962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNz6Z21XEI/AAAAAAAAAsg/X5mz9L9Ov-I/s400/Picture+091.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Right!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNzgV2srWI/AAAAAAAAAsY/8IK4wtPEL8Y/s1600-h/Picture+108.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360254980960595298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNzgV2srWI/AAAAAAAAAsY/8IK4wtPEL8Y/s400/Picture+108.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Angie, Angie (we use to make silly tapes together), Janet &amp;amp; me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNzJFPyJPI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/JhGXWENP06E/s1600-h/Picture+112.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360254581365417202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNzJFPyJPI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/JhGXWENP06E/s400/Picture+112.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Cher, Karen, Robbie (high school make-out partner) &amp;amp; me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNykMci4EI/AAAAAAAAAsI/Hewr3mkUxi0/s1600-h/Picture+113.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360253947642830914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNykMci4EI/AAAAAAAAAsI/Hewr3mkUxi0/s400/Picture+113.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Carey &amp;amp; Cher&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNyE9NuS2I/AAAAAAAAAsA/sBj9fuZJYew/s1600-h/Picture+115.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360253410978188130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNyE9NuS2I/AAAAAAAAAsA/sBj9fuZJYew/s400/Picture+115.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Hot girls, me, Carey &amp;amp; Cher&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNxtUv7rzI/AAAAAAAAAr4/bpYcGv1LwS4/s1600-h/Picture+120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360253004978827058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNxtUv7rzI/AAAAAAAAAr4/bpYcGv1LwS4/s400/Picture+120.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Fun day at the Waterslides! Man do I wish I had a good pic of us going down with the tubes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNxa0XWaMI/AAAAAAAAArw/WJxRxyPLJOs/s1600-h/Picture+121.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNxIamwkhI/AAAAAAAAAro/fsNBpp-sOnU/s1600-h/Picture+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360252370895802898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNxIamwkhI/AAAAAAAAAro/fsNBpp-sOnU/s400/Picture+095.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The whole gang (unposed)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNwwlVfcLI/AAAAAAAAArg/hSNFeCgPFMk/s1600-h/Picture+099.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360251961459306674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNwwlVfcLI/AAAAAAAAArg/hSNFeCgPFMk/s400/Picture+099.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Janet, Suree, Carey, Cher. me &amp;amp; Karen (The Pose)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNwW6HDsQI/AAAAAAAAArY/Jdv1iu6WKyM/s1600-h/Picture+122.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360251520359313666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNwW6HDsQI/AAAAAAAAArY/Jdv1iu6WKyM/s400/Picture+122.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;They can't just say cheese?:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNwBoTmqPI/AAAAAAAAArQ/R2YAEx0G7Iw/s1600-h/Picture+123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360251154802845938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNwBoTmqPI/AAAAAAAAArQ/R2YAEx0G7Iw/s400/Picture+123.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Karen being silly with Race, Suree's super cute boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNvhaMLpWI/AAAAAAAAArI/d72xI_c4IQ0/s1600-h/Picture+126.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360250601257805154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmNvhaMLpWI/AAAAAAAAArI/d72xI_c4IQ0/s400/Picture+126.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;As Carey put it, us closing down the fire pit at Cher's BBQ. Really, the best night ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I know we have all been sharing our thoughts on the Reunion, and here are mine. I put a lot of time and energy into what I thought I needed to do to get ready for the big reunion. I lost weight. I toned up as much as I could. I bought clothes, wayyyyyy too many clothes! Tanned, cut &amp;amp; colored hair, pedicure, and put a lot of thought on what it was going to be like. Who was I going to see? Will my high school boyfriend be there? Will people be different at this one so I can get to know a new side of them. I worried, I was beside myself with excitement, you name it I felt it. The big day itself, as some have already said was sort of a let down. No food. Had to leave for too long to get food. Dark, crowded, very difficult to carry on conversations. High school boyfriend was not there, grumpy &amp;amp; tired at the end. The next day was so much better. At the waterslides &amp;amp; Cher's BBQ with my very best friends in the whole world and their families, I was reminded what this whole thing is really about. I had so much more fun with my friends then with anything else. My friends are all remarkable people, flaws &amp;amp; all! My heart aches right now because we are all so far a part. While I was there, I felt like I belonged somewhere. Now.....? Anyway, I am missing you all right now and feeling a bit lost again. Thank you for all the memories!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;PS: Can't figure out why some of the pics are so far apart! Sheesh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&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;/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&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/34626250-5981787740205875622?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5981787740205875622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=5981787740205875622' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5981787740205875622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5981787740205875622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/incline-other-hiking-places-helped-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SmN3PulR5TI/AAAAAAAAAuA/i_wRLgaEUvU/s72-c/Picture+064.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8178620678191205330</id><published>2009-07-15T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T20:55:10.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sl6kViZcvSI/AAAAAAAAArA/FZGw7GC9hXo/s1600-h/Picture+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358901296535223586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sl6kViZcvSI/AAAAAAAAArA/FZGw7GC9hXo/s200/Picture+055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Say a prayer please, I just emailed AllBreed and asked them if I can keep Digby. I couldn't bring myself to call them. If they say no, I will cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8178620678191205330?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8178620678191205330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8178620678191205330' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8178620678191205330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8178620678191205330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/say-prayer-please-i-just-emailed.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sl6kViZcvSI/AAAAAAAAArA/FZGw7GC9hXo/s72-c/Picture+055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-5717209906529355679</id><published>2009-07-15T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T20:52:51.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sl6j-2b-xdI/AAAAAAAAAq4/PdavXgFqNNY/s1600-h/Picture+097.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358900906777560530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sl6j-2b-xdI/AAAAAAAAAq4/PdavXgFqNNY/s400/Picture+097.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sl6jYQ5S4NI/AAAAAAAAAqw/1Bc5JzS8yds/s1600-h/Picture+096.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Thank you Bobbi!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;We love them!:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;I'm wearing mine now, and yes Karen,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;I AM SWEET!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/34626250-5717209906529355679?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5717209906529355679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=5717209906529355679' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5717209906529355679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5717209906529355679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/07/thank-you-bobbi-we-love-them-im-wearing.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sl6j-2b-xdI/AAAAAAAAAq4/PdavXgFqNNY/s72-c/Picture+097.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8669406501030709125</id><published>2009-06-27T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T10:39:49.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;I'm on vacation! I'm on vacation! I have no worries. I can sleep in. 2 whole weeeeeeks! 2 whole weeeeks! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Finally my right eye has stopped twitching, no more stress for awhile:) I have 2 pounds left to go! Not sure I am as toned though as I was hoping to be, but you'll love me anyway, right? You'll tell me I look fabulous, right? Can't wait to see all my oldest friends in RC. See you there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8669406501030709125?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8669406501030709125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8669406501030709125' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8669406501030709125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8669406501030709125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-on-vacation-im-on-vacation-i-have-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8257064106363419730</id><published>2009-06-23T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T20:31:00.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SkGbaEu-NaI/AAAAAAAAAqo/rt9pMmsB0J4/s1600-h/Picture+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350728704542520738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SkGbaEu-NaI/AAAAAAAAAqo/rt9pMmsB0J4/s400/Picture+052.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;It's a sickness really. I buy cards with the best of intentions, but on the counter they sit. Of late, I have been so proud every time that I have actually bought the card a head of time! But on the counter it sits. They pile up, and pile up, and pile up. Once I wrote my mom a $500 check, put it in the card, put a stamp on it, and put it in my purse to take it to the post office. In my purse it stayed....and stayed. When I finally got it to the post office, I had to ask them to tape up the envelop because it was falling apart. Guess what came to ME in the mail almost a week and a half later? The check in a post office envelop. Mine was no where to be found. There was a note with it, "We found this in the pile of mail". A week after that they sent me the tattered pieces of envelop the check was suppose to be in, but no card. I still have not resent the check to mom. I spilled water on the cards, still didn't send them. Carey's B-day card is in this pile, so is E's. I even got a card that was so Bobbi, even though I don't know her birthday date. Why do I do this, someone tell me! Stop the sickness!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/34626250-8257064106363419730?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8257064106363419730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8257064106363419730' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8257064106363419730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8257064106363419730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-sickness-really.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SkGbaEu-NaI/AAAAAAAAAqo/rt9pMmsB0J4/s72-c/Picture+052.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-749380397403281519</id><published>2009-06-21T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T09:35:14.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sj5e7AZzFxI/AAAAAAAAAqg/IEwYI8Xj8SE/s1600-h/Picture+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349817775176226578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sj5e7AZzFxI/AAAAAAAAAqg/IEwYI8Xj8SE/s320/Picture+055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sj5eUEPjAMI/AAAAAAAAAqY/Rg-j-lnQ_Jk/s1600-h/Picture+057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349817106192072898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sj5eUEPjAMI/AAAAAAAAAqY/Rg-j-lnQ_Jk/s320/Picture+057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sj5eLO1IawI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/E5CZ4rupN9M/s1600-h/Picture+059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349816954415246082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sj5eLO1IawI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/E5CZ4rupN9M/s320/Picture+059.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sj5d-Oth3RI/AAAAAAAAAqI/eRp1fc0fs1Y/s1600-h/Picture+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sj5d-Oth3RI/AAAAAAAAAqI/eRp1fc0fs1Y/s1600-h/Picture+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;The first pic is of Digby pre-surgery, all peppy attacking the lufa dog with gusto! Then there is the after pics of him and his cone-head. Man, that was a hard few days for him and for me. He was neutered last Friday. He came home very woozy. Often, he would take a few steps in a direction, then stop and stand in that spot forever. The second day was the worst, he was in a lot of pain whenever he moved, even with pain killers. The nights were worse than the day. He couldn't get comfortable, and whenever he would try to move or get up, he would scream...in the middle of the night, several times in the night. So, not much sleep for me all weekend. I was worried about him, because he didn't seem to be bouncing back as quickly as everyone was telling me male dogs do. What I didn't know is that since he is 2 years old and a small dog, things will feel worse for him. It took about 4 days until I finally saw some pep back in him. The first time I saw him jump around in excitement of seeing me, I could just feel my heart burst. How will I ever be able to give this dog up? He and I bonded even more through this. Taking naps together when he could get on the couch. Me rubbing his back at night to get him to finally lay down and attempt to sleep. He looks at me with these trusting brown eyes, and I love him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sj5d-Oth3RI/AAAAAAAAAqI/eRp1fc0fs1Y/s1600-h/Picture+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&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/34626250-749380397403281519?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/749380397403281519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=749380397403281519' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/749380397403281519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/749380397403281519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-pic-is-of-digby-pre-surgery-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sj5e7AZzFxI/AAAAAAAAAqg/IEwYI8Xj8SE/s72-c/Picture+055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-123496428501698391</id><published>2009-06-03T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T19:14:50.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sictj-1f_cI/AAAAAAAAAqA/ZjddfCLC4so/s1600-h/Picture+050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343289579084447170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sictj-1f_cI/AAAAAAAAAqA/ZjddfCLC4so/s400/Picture+050.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Is this my Reunion Dress? What do you think of the new swimsuit??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-123496428501698391?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/123496428501698391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=123496428501698391' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/123496428501698391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/123496428501698391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/06/is-this-my-reunion-dress-what-do-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sictj-1f_cI/AAAAAAAAAqA/ZjddfCLC4so/s72-c/Picture+050.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3335071564209329757</id><published>2009-05-31T16:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T17:08:47.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMZHIeZDvI/AAAAAAAAAp4/2oJhsiYwI4E/s1600-h/Picture+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342141193316273906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMZHIeZDvI/AAAAAAAAAp4/2oJhsiYwI4E/s320/Picture+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Proud proud Auntie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMY8gAeykI/AAAAAAAAApw/PngaFoFczKs/s1600-h/Picture+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMYw8uxbxI/AAAAAAAAApo/CES5ZEwHSBU/s1600-h/Picture+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342140812206632722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMYw8uxbxI/AAAAAAAAApo/CES5ZEwHSBU/s320/Picture+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Look who's the active one now!:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMYkZRhg6I/AAAAAAAAApg/FlQLNQX8WWA/s1600-h/Picture+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342140596530283426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMYkZRhg6I/AAAAAAAAApg/FlQLNQX8WWA/s320/Picture+020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Suree's B-Day night at Cher's BBQ:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMYVHqMdII/AAAAAAAAApY/p6rcCogjO9s/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342140334103884930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMYVHqMdII/AAAAAAAAApY/p6rcCogjO9s/s320/Picture+028.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Isn't Gramma sweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMYLC4jDPI/AAAAAAAAApQ/0WpWskSY6a4/s1600-h/Picture+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342140161023216882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMYLC4jDPI/AAAAAAAAApQ/0WpWskSY6a4/s320/Picture+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Father and son.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMXtzyV0SI/AAAAAAAAApI/Ad0r2_wb_xY/s1600-h/Picture+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342139658754445602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMXtzyV0SI/AAAAAAAAApI/Ad0r2_wb_xY/s320/Picture+033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Little Turd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&amp;amp; Grandpoop!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMXkznJhAI/AAAAAAAAApA/uODWgWcWuZo/s1600-h/Picture+037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342139504088679426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMXkznJhAI/AAAAAAAAApA/uODWgWcWuZo/s320/Picture+037.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Gramma has a way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMXZaIwe1I/AAAAAAAAAo4/qaq1elqcVdA/s1600-h/Picture+047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342139308271762258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMXZaIwe1I/AAAAAAAAAo4/qaq1elqcVdA/s320/Picture+047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;It's easy to see how fast I fell in love with this little turd, called River. It's true, I did have a moment or two when I thought about not seeing him everyday that made me tear up. I really felt big love for this kid. His smell, his soft little body, how he loves to cling to me and just sleep peacefully, the way he would lean his head back, stare at me and listen to me talk to him.......I could go on. No, STILL doesn't move me to want my own kids, so if any of you are still hoping for that change, forget it! But I know I love this kid like he is my own. It was a good few days, can't wait to see him again in a few short weeks! More pics on facebook soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/34626250-3335071564209329757?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3335071564209329757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3335071564209329757' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3335071564209329757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3335071564209329757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/proud-proud-auntie.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SiMZHIeZDvI/AAAAAAAAAp4/2oJhsiYwI4E/s72-c/Picture+022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8586826652086128726</id><published>2009-05-22T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T07:40:51.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Just wanted to say that I only have 2 more pounds left to go! Brook says I don't have a double chin anymore l;ike last time he saw me.....nice! And I am up to 13 push-ups! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8586826652086128726?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8586826652086128726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8586826652086128726' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8586826652086128726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8586826652086128726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-wanted-to-say-that-i-only-have-2.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-493390653306758012</id><published>2009-05-17T09:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T09:32:47.929-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;I am feeling a little discouraged lately. Ok, a lot discouraged. I am trying not to but I can't help it. I skipped church today because I just get so tired of sitting there by myself. As hard as I have tried, I can't seem to get myself connected there. I think it may be time to move on. I hate saying that, but I just feel so stagnate there. I love the feel of the church, and I really like the sermons, but I am lonely. I will not blame this all on the church people, it has to be me and my inept social skills. But I have tried. My social life stinks. I don't initiate calls to potential friends like I should because.......I DON'T KNOW! Of course I am terrible about calling my existing friends, sorry Carey. I keep praying for friends here, but can only find the energy to do my part once in a while. Dating continues to be depressing. I have worked long and hard on myself to be the kind of person  a great guy would want to be with, but all I keep meeting are men who have more unchecked baggage that I ever even thought of having in my past. Seriously, this is what is out there girls, hold your hubbies tight will ya. And please don't tell me that I am suppose to wait for God to bring a guy to me, I am very much aware of that, and I trust that God is not going to let me be with someone I shouldn't be. I also know that God is not going to send the dude up to my door at home and knock on it, ok? I can't just sit around at home and wait. I hate feeling like this. I really want to hang on to the hope that my life will start one of these days, it just always feels like it is on the verge of starting. Ok, I am done with my rant. Thanks for listening my friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-493390653306758012?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/493390653306758012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=493390653306758012' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/493390653306758012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/493390653306758012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-am-feeling-little-discouraged-lately.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3866948238867180127</id><published>2009-05-16T10:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T10:49:23.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sg77m99lt_I/AAAAAAAAAow/GeA64wxvHS8/s1600-h/4340_1148381033557_1348524275_372036_6876568_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336479255367104498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sg77m99lt_I/AAAAAAAAAow/GeA64wxvHS8/s400/4340_1148381033557_1348524275_372036_6876568_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Just a few proud pics of my cute little nephew. I can't wait to see him next week with my own camera! Allyson says the yellow coloring is gone now, and he is already growing and changing as babies do. I can't wait to meet this little guy! Just Digby and I are taking the trip, I just can't subject the new family with ALL my rowdy dogs! I can't wait to get going!! I leave this coming Thursday, and won't be back until the 25th. Yeah!! Can ya tell I am excited? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sg77hZha7_I/AAAAAAAAAoo/ubS-zOaNMyY/s1600-h/4340_1148380953555_1348524275_372034_6973410_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336479159685935090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sg77hZha7_I/AAAAAAAAAoo/ubS-zOaNMyY/s400/4340_1148380953555_1348524275_372034_6973410_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sg77c1AKJ8I/AAAAAAAAAog/rKUdXsCfWgI/s1600-h/4340_1148380793551_1348524275_372030_623204_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336479081163270082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sg77c1AKJ8I/AAAAAAAAAog/rKUdXsCfWgI/s400/4340_1148380793551_1348524275_372030_623204_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sg77WxVO0-I/AAAAAAAAAoY/3DKrNpx6kgw/s1600-h/Gramma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336478977098699746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sg77WxVO0-I/AAAAAAAAAoY/3DKrNpx6kgw/s400/Gramma.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/34626250-3866948238867180127?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3866948238867180127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3866948238867180127' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3866948238867180127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3866948238867180127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/just-few-proud-pics-of-my-cute-little.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sg77m99lt_I/AAAAAAAAAow/GeA64wxvHS8/s72-c/4340_1148381033557_1348524275_372036_6876568_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-6620069306955530632</id><published>2009-05-09T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T10:11:53.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SgW35OL7eAI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/OpPZRCn6ldU/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333871527378778114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SgW35OL7eAI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/OpPZRCn6ldU/s320/Picture+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;No more scheduled hikes. They canceled the whole thing this week. The reason is there is too much snow on the peak to be able to hike it well in June. So, they canceled all the hikes! Today was suppose to be cold and yucky again, so I didn't really care about this Sat., except when I woke up and saw that it was actually sunny and nice for once! Oh well. Yvonne &amp;amp; I are still committed to hiking anyway, but not at the butt-crack of dawn anymore! We hiked the Incline Thur., which was really hard but awesome! I will be hiking somewhere this weekend w/o Yvonne, she has too much going on, something about Mother's Day:) I am still working on the p-u challenge and am happily sore from that. So I keep on keepin on. Happy weekend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-6620069306955530632?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6620069306955530632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=6620069306955530632' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6620069306955530632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6620069306955530632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/no-more-scheduled-hikes.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SgW35OL7eAI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/OpPZRCn6ldU/s72-c/Picture+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8308264407390017682</id><published>2009-05-04T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T19:51:10.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Progress Report 1st week:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Well, I made it through one week of the 100 p-u's challenge! I think I am doing better than my hiking challenge so far, but that isn't really my fault! Anyway, at the end of this week, I can do 5 girl p-u's and tried to match as best I could with the Mil. p-u's. My arms are sore, and I have lost a total of 5 pounds so far! Just 3 more to go really:) Not sure my tummy feels all that tighter, but I am working on it. On to the next week!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8308264407390017682?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8308264407390017682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8308264407390017682' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8308264407390017682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8308264407390017682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/progress-report-1st-week-well-i-made-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-5806251229148476413</id><published>2009-05-03T11:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T11:41:56.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sf3jiMQlxbI/AAAAAAAAAoI/V9c_a9eg91Y/s1600-h/4340_1148381073558_1348524275_372037_8035678_s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331667710422402482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 86px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sf3jiMQlxbI/AAAAAAAAAoI/V9c_a9eg91Y/s400/4340_1148381073558_1348524275_372037_8035678_s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sf3jdKAfFnI/AAAAAAAAAoA/PBYjutmcX9E/s1600-h/4340_1148381073558_1348524275_372037_8035678_s.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I stole this pic off of facebook. Brook has a few posted. Still want one of Brook holding him. Mom is there today for a whole week, she says she will get me one! I talked to Brook twice now, and I so love that the change is actually happening in him. I have been praying for that. Praying that the moment he meets his son, he melts his fears away, his priorities shift, and he just falls madly in love with his boy. All of that is happening! Brook says he is enthralled with him, keeps staring at him all the time. He says he really feels his heart changing. Mom said that she was in awe of the look of protectiveness she saw on Brook's face when he brought River out to meet them for the first time. Brook said he was a blubbery mess the minute River was born. I know I am going on and on, but man when prayers get answered.....and I have been praying for Brook since he was a little angry kid. Thank you God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/34626250-5806251229148476413?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5806251229148476413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=5806251229148476413' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5806251229148476413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5806251229148476413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-stole-this-pic-off-of-facebook.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sf3jiMQlxbI/AAAAAAAAAoI/V9c_a9eg91Y/s72-c/4340_1148381073558_1348524275_372037_8035678_s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-385382375776677880</id><published>2009-05-02T10:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T10:23:37.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Progress Report Day 2:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;I know I'm weird, but I love it when I feel sore, means I am actually doing somthing! So, I continued with matching Mil. p-u's and Girl p-u's. I went as high as 5 this time. I am trying to push myself to get my chin lower to the ground when doing the Mil. p-u's, but man it is hard!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;No hike again this weekend. I really am getting very bummed that the weather likes to be nice during the week while I am working, and crap on my days off! It is good to get the moisture, but as you know I can get overwhelmed with the weeds, so I am afraid I am losing precious time here! I am praying for the pattern to switch! Hope your weekends are much more Springier than mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-385382375776677880?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/385382375776677880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=385382375776677880' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/385382375776677880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/385382375776677880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/progress-report-day-2-i-know-im-weird.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-9020346052039099229</id><published>2009-04-30T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T20:15:20.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Progress Report:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;So, I still can't do a military push-up exactly, I can't lower myself all the way to the ground or close to the ground. So, what I did was as close to  2 military p-u's as I could for the first set, then I did equal girl p-u's to match. I did this for every set. In doing this I completed each set. So far so good. I hope I get stronger though!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-9020346052039099229?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9020346052039099229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=9020346052039099229' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/9020346052039099229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/9020346052039099229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/progress-report-so-i-still-cant-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3348483439687396177</id><published>2009-04-29T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T19:55:14.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I have a a baby nephew!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;River.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;7 pounds and lots of long inches!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Mom &amp;amp; Baby doing great&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;C-section&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Brook cried:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Call me Auntie Chris!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-3348483439687396177?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3348483439687396177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3348483439687396177' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3348483439687396177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3348483439687396177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-have-a-baby-nephew-river.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8130199737789849959</id><published>2009-04-27T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T19:55:01.901-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Ok ladies, I suck. I have never felt weeker! I BARELY got ONE puch-up completed!! I guess I have always done the girlie push-ups. Anyway, here we go. Wish me luck, cuz how in the H-E-double L am I going to get 2 or even 3 done tomorrow?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8130199737789849959?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8130199737789849959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8130199737789849959' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8130199737789849959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8130199737789849959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/ok-ladies-i-suck.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-5792671101079698256</id><published>2009-04-26T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T13:51:41.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SfTIED-CzpI/AAAAAAAAAn4/fhRRQ6cwUto/s1600-h/outline700.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329104231196708498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 119px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SfTIED-CzpI/AAAAAAAAAn4/fhRRQ6cwUto/s320/outline700.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;It is sooooo on! I can't believe how excited about this I am, I hate push ups! But I am feeling very motivated, and I need your support to keep this up. So, I am inviting you all to participate &amp;amp;/or cheer me on! I know Carey &amp;amp; Karen have already started, but I want to make my official entry into the contest tomorrow, Monday. I will post my progress everyday, all I ask from you is please don't let me get discouraged. Help keep me going!! I also signed up for belly tips on how to tone my flab. Awesome arms &amp;amp; toned tummy here I come!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-5792671101079698256?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5792671101079698256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=5792671101079698256' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5792671101079698256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5792671101079698256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/it-is-sooooo-on-i-cant-believe-how.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SfTIED-CzpI/AAAAAAAAAn4/fhRRQ6cwUto/s72-c/outline700.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-6285128190515430097</id><published>2009-04-19T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T13:04:15.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SeuDeVuIGJI/AAAAAAAAAnw/c-22o0Mm-jc/s1600-h/icecream_banner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326495541545670802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SeuDeVuIGJI/AAAAAAAAAnw/c-22o0Mm-jc/s320/icecream_banner.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Carmel Macchiato.....that is what I am eating right now! Yummmmmm-o!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-6285128190515430097?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6285128190515430097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=6285128190515430097' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6285128190515430097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6285128190515430097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/carmel-macchiato.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SeuDeVuIGJI/AAAAAAAAAnw/c-22o0Mm-jc/s72-c/icecream_banner.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-902122853974140226</id><published>2009-04-19T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T13:00:46.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Downside of Facebook...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Is when people from work find you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Especially when one of those people is the Chief Operating Officer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I was very reluctant to be friends with anyone from work, but gradually I accepted a few friend requests. Then the COO asked to be my friend. I ignored her at first, but the second time she asked, I felt that it might not look good if I ignore her again. So, now I have to watch when I get on Fb, and sometimes what I say. I hate that. So now I am waiting for our CEO to send me a request. I've been told she is on Fb.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;:(  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-902122853974140226?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/902122853974140226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=902122853974140226' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/902122853974140226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/902122853974140226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/downside-of-facebook.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-6408596950656211246</id><published>2009-04-12T12:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T12:18:11.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SeI7m3NUeWI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/hR9kYVnh6pA/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323883248346233186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SeI7m3NUeWI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/hR9kYVnh6pA/s400/Picture+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Don't ya just love this pic of Rooby?! We started our hiking challenge yesterday, and even though it was in the upper 30's and snowing big flakes, it was a pretty good hike over all. We went to the Garden of the Gods, rain or shine this place is beautiful. Will post more pics. I woke up at 5:30 am, thinking over &amp;amp; over in my head that I will get to take a nap later today (The nap was a total of 5 hours, seriously!). Picked up my friend Yvonne, and made it early for the hike. Yes, that is a feat! We hiked on some trails that I had not been on before, so that made the hike better. So, good start to the challenge! Unfortunately, I will be out of town next weekend at a conference, so I can't go to Waldo Canyon with the rest. Will have to do a make up hike somewhere else this week....if it ever stops snowing! I have lost 2 whole pounds so far, so I'm happy!! Have a great Easter everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323884947115621474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SeI9JvngPGI/AAAAAAAAAnY/gt52oqe4KfQ/s400/Picture+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323885149777595522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SeI9Vil4jII/AAAAAAAAAng/2pA2NC2WV4k/s400/Picture+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323885415267035618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SeI9k_nf6eI/AAAAAAAAAno/PInyfFoU2ZA/s400/Picture+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-6408596950656211246?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6408596950656211246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=6408596950656211246' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6408596950656211246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6408596950656211246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/dont-ya-just-love-this-pic-of-rooby-we.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SeI7m3NUeWI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/hR9kYVnh6pA/s72-c/Picture+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2744984082129005093</id><published>2009-04-05T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T18:57:47.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sdlf-CaxwzI/AAAAAAAAAnI/orU1vCHxq24/s1600-h/TN_weather_8131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321389954120663858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 102px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sdlf-CaxwzI/AAAAAAAAAnI/orU1vCHxq24/s400/TN_weather_8131.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I.....am.....so.....sick of COLD!! I think I have hit a wall with it. Colorado really hasn't had a bad winter in terms of bad snow storms, but it has been cold. I am tired of cold. Here it is April, and it was 35 degrees today. I remember last winter reading Bobbi's blog about how depressed she felt because winter just kept hanging on, and I remember feeling glad that I live here because even in winter, we have many days that it is sunny with 50-60 degree temps. This year just seems to feel colder than I remember. Maybe I am just antsy because I am so ready to wear Spring clothes, play golf and go hike. My first Pikes Peak Climb hike was canceled Sat. I am just ready. I am ready to be warm. Please??? My poor little flowers, that are trying so hard to come up and bloom, are freezing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-2744984082129005093?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2744984082129005093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2744984082129005093' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2744984082129005093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2744984082129005093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/i.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/Sdlf-CaxwzI/AAAAAAAAAnI/orU1vCHxq24/s72-c/TN_weather_8131.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2209929704962039933</id><published>2009-04-05T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T18:58:53.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SdkD3g0a1yI/AAAAAAAAAnA/_ocjwNM1rPw/s1600-h/river.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321288686952437538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 93px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SdkD3g0a1yI/AAAAAAAAAnA/_ocjwNM1rPw/s400/river.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SdkCePCh78I/AAAAAAAAAm4/R7a0ONIbMPY/s1600-h/baby.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321287153171427266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 1px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 1px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SdkCePCh78I/AAAAAAAAAm4/R7a0ONIbMPY/s400/baby.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Meet River. This is my little nephew hangin out, waiting for the day he comes out and says hi to all of us! Allyson's due date is April 23rd, so it's coming up fast. One problem though, he is breech right now, and Allyson is having to do weird exercises to get him turned around. She does not want to have a C-section if at all possible. So prayers are much appreciated! I am so excited to be an Auntie, I hope I am a good one, even far away. I will not be there for the birth, which is a bummer, but am planning on getting there for baptism since I am Godmama! Anyway, this is the closest I will get to being a mom sorta, and I can't wait. Pray for my brother too, who is scared he won't be a good dad. He has so much love in him, I am just hoping he doesn't let the past get the better of him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Anyway, looking forward to meeting you little River!! You are already much loved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/34626250-2209929704962039933?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2209929704962039933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2209929704962039933' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2209929704962039933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2209929704962039933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/meet-river.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SdkD3g0a1yI/AAAAAAAAAnA/_ocjwNM1rPw/s72-c/river.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-237974210335320375</id><published>2009-03-26T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T20:21:55.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Question&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Is it a deal breaker if you don't connect with someone with Humor?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;What if he has everything else but you just can not connect in that way, like he doesn't have the same sense of humor as you. Or that part just does not connect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Is that a deal breaker?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-237974210335320375?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/237974210335320375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=237974210335320375' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/237974210335320375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/237974210335320375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/question-is-it-deal-breaker-if-you-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7400308009212507014</id><published>2009-03-25T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T09:51:31.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/ScpV-Zp9eHI/AAAAAAAAAmw/bD4mdwma27k/s1600-h/GEDC0383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317156840591423602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/ScpV-Zp9eHI/AAAAAAAAAmw/bD4mdwma27k/s320/GEDC0383.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Spring. Sheesh! This is my Springs Break people. Last week we had upper 60's &amp;amp; 70's all week. We were dreaming of getting out the golf clubs for at least part of the break. Mine all wrapped up neat and tidy in the box they came in over Christmas. I am so excited about my new clubs that I can't even get them out of the box! Seriously, I know that sounds weird, but I guess I wanted to save them for the first time I am read to play with them. Today was suppose to be that day. I was going golfing at 8am this morning with my golfing buddies form work. Last night while watching news, it became very clear that I would not be golfing this week. They forcasted cold temps. and snow for the next couple of days. It was 29 degrees at 8am this morning with a slight blanket of snow. My poor little plants that are trying to come up are freezing as we speak! Below is my first ever daffodil, poor sad thing. I know things could be worse. I could be buried in a blizzard like some of my friends are. We do need the moisture, but I think I would rather have rain and thunderstorms by now. I have gotten some projects underway. My floor is regrouted in my living room, just needs to be sealed now. One wall of my shower tile is clean of grout globs and ready to be regrouted and sealed, just two more sides to go. I cleaned off my desk in my office! I can see my pretty desk wood now. Plus, I have gotten some other cleaning done. But man! I wanted to go for a good hike, golf, maybe go shopping. Ok, the shopping part is a little far fetched since I have no money, but it was the thought! Anyway, it is suppose to be in the 50's by Saturday, so hopefully we can try a game of golf in the afternoon. Happy Spring!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/ScpSm5r2G6I/AAAAAAAAAmo/dtc-DDFzlFM/s1600-h/GEDC0384.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317153138337520546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/ScpSm5r2G6I/AAAAAAAAAmo/dtc-DDFzlFM/s320/GEDC0384.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/34626250-7400308009212507014?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7400308009212507014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7400308009212507014' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7400308009212507014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7400308009212507014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/spring.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/ScpV-Zp9eHI/AAAAAAAAAmw/bD4mdwma27k/s72-c/GEDC0383.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3642231897913538865</id><published>2009-03-23T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T12:21:38.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SceyoXGzKEI/AAAAAAAAAmg/v7YN3Znw06Q/s1600-h/GEDC0243.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316414291601205314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SceyoXGzKEI/AAAAAAAAAmg/v7YN3Znw06Q/s200/GEDC0243.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;For Bobbi:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Here's the latest on my little friend Digby. Well, He graduated his first Doggie class. He was neither at the top or the bottom of his class, but I KNOW he would have been at the top if I had practiced with him more. That dog is so motivated by food and pleasing you, and he is smart too! I decided to not sign up for the next class right now, but will try harder to practice what we have already learned:) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;He has had only one Introduction since he was "adopted" before. He met a family who seemed very nice and I thought they liked him. We decided to be very honest with them about the last adoption, but also told them what we have &amp;amp; are going to do about it. It didn't seem to bother them, but they did not ask to keep him. I'm sure you all know I was relieved just a tad. Even though I want him to well with all this, I also love the little dude. Someone from our class asked me why I don't adopt him, I hear this a lot. So, I broached the subject with one of the Allbreed people. They said I would be considered a Foster Failure, which really means they would never let me  foster through them again. Even though I am tempted to keep him, it doesn't feel good to keep him like that, you know? Plus, I don't know if I would have to pay the $108 it costs to adopt him or not. Don't really have that. So, I continue to try and keep things in perspective. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;A funny thing did occur during the Intro with that family. The girl that heads up Allbreed was in the Intro with me, and playing with him on the floor. He was rolling over to get a tummy rub. Laura asked me, didn't you say he was fixed? I said, yeah that is what Karen told me, and it was written on the certificate from the Humane Society, why? Uh, because he is not fixed! Everyone had a big laugh at my expense because I did not figure this out on my own, including me! But I am telling you, I couldn't tell! I am use to bigger animals, ok. His little balls(excuse me!) do not hang like big dogs! So, now he has to under go the snip-snip! Poor Digby!;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-3642231897913538865?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3642231897913538865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3642231897913538865' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3642231897913538865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3642231897913538865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/for-bobbi-heres-latest-on-my-little.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SceyoXGzKEI/AAAAAAAAAmg/v7YN3Znw06Q/s72-c/GEDC0243.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8110764300867067565</id><published>2009-03-21T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T10:32:37.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/ScURMAEX-sI/AAAAAAAAAmY/nXRVdO4cOWY/s1600-h/Still+goin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315673833055189698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/ScURMAEX-sI/AAAAAAAAAmY/nXRVdO4cOWY/s320/Still+goin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Ok girls, it is on!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;It is time to get serious, there is much at stake! The big one is coming. The big 20 year class of'89! And I know my friends, you all are workout fiends when there is the proper motivation especially. I know I am not fat, but I know I have let myself get a little soft in the middle. I need to look awesome, or at the very least be able to hang with my friends, who I know are all going to look awesome! The biggest thing is being able to wear a bikini and not feel self conscious about it if we go to the lake. So, I guess what I am saying, is I have to get serious. There is only little over three months left to shed a few pounds and tone up. Can I do it?? Answer is, AAAARRRGGGGG! I hope so. This is some of the plan:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;1) I first took &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://lifewithjboys.blogspot.com/2009/03/ok-jillian-michaels-says-that-your-diet.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Carey's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt; test: and I am a balanced oxidizer. Which, after some research really tells me to eat balanced portions of good foods that contain proteins, carbs, and fats. I already do this pretty well, although I wish I could afford to buy fish more often. But in taking the test, it reminds me about good balance and portion control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;2) Continue my walkin dogs routine. Gets me outside nearly everday. But also step up the weights, yoga &amp;amp; Pilate's. One thing I HAVE to do is get home earlier from work!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;3) I signed up for the Pikes Peak Hill Climb Challenge through work. We have a fitness committee, that puts on several events over the year, and this is an annual one. I didn't do it last year because you are required to get up at the butt-crack of dawn on my precious sleeping in Saturdays! You have to meet everyone by 6:30am, hike starts SHARPLY at 7am. Seriously, they will leave you! So imagine me all excited that Digby's classes are over, which only required me to get up by 8am. Not from April 4th until June, I will be getting up before 6am! Every Saturday! Anyway, it works like this. Every Sat. we hike somewhere different, each hike gets more difficult. The last hike is, of course, going up Pikes Peak. It's a tough hike from what people tell me, a 14r. Most people don't even walk back down because they are so tired! So, wish me luck. People are already making bets that I don't make it past two weeks! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Here's to looking awesome to impress only ourselves!;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8110764300867067565?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8110764300867067565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8110764300867067565' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8110764300867067565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8110764300867067565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/ok-girls-it-is-on-it-is-time-to-get.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/ScURMAEX-sI/AAAAAAAAAmY/nXRVdO4cOWY/s72-c/Still+goin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8009342216907439820</id><published>2009-03-10T21:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T21:20:29.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jibjab card</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTIzNjc*NDg5MjczNCZwdD*xMjM2NzQ*OTQxNTYyJnA9MTkxMTMxJmQ9MjAyMzA3Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTImdD*mbz*zNTk*ZWI1MTlhZTQ*N2NiOWRmNTcyZjdhNWY4NjlkMg==.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style='background-color:#e9e9e9; width: 425px;'&gt;&lt;object id='A905495' quality='high' data='http://aka.zero.jibjab.com/client/zero/ClientZero_EmbedViewer.swf?external_make_id=DUBBtx2Zk5sDCsck&amp;service=sendables.jibjab.com&amp;partnerID=JibJab' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' wmode='transparent' height='319' width='425'&gt;&lt;param name='wmode' value='transparent'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='movie' value='http://aka.zero.jibjab.com/client/zero/ClientZero_EmbedViewer.swf?external_make_id=DUBBtx2Zk5sDCsck&amp;service=sendables.jibjab.com&amp;partnerID=JibJab'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='scaleMode' value='showAll'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='quality' value='high'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='allowNetworking' value='all'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='allowFullScreen' value='true' /&gt;&lt;param name='FlashVars' value='external_make_id=DUBBtx2Zk5sDCsck&amp;service=sendables.jibjab.com&amp;partnerID=JibJab'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='allowScriptAccess' value='always'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center; width:435px; margin-top:6px;'&gt;Try JibJab Sendables® &lt;a href='http://sendables.jibjab.com/ecards'&gt;eCards&lt;/a&gt; today!&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/34626250-8009342216907439820?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8009342216907439820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8009342216907439820' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8009342216907439820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8009342216907439820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/jibjab-card.html' title='Jibjab card'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-6407389929315913731</id><published>2009-03-09T20:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T20:39:44.149-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SbXe-NmR5KI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/n4f4gk5JkKU/s1600-h/environmental-gas-cans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311396495936840866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 143px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SbXe-NmR5KI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/n4f4gk5JkKU/s400/environmental-gas-cans.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Today's funny:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Late for work this morning, and pulling out of driveway realize that I am way past E.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I think, I can make it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Can't be any later than I am today, have trainings all morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Note to self, will get gas as soon as I leave work today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;5pm, turn engine, notice it took a bit to get started. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Pulled up to a stop sign, car feeling weird. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Pulled up to stoplight with gas station right across the street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Car dies right there at light!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Had to tell drivers behind me that I couldn't move my car across intersection to fill gas can. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sorry, you have to go around me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Listen to various honking as I walked across street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Filling gas can, I twitch, gas spills all over me and ground.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Screw on cover, walk back as if nothing is wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Fill tank with what little I had. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Drove to gas station to fill up rest of tank.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Filling up tank, thought it was full.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Pulled hose out as it is still gushing out.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;all over me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Drove home stinking of gas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Oh the high.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-6407389929315913731?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6407389929315913731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=6407389929315913731' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6407389929315913731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6407389929315913731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/todays-funny-late-for-work-this-morning.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SbXe-NmR5KI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/n4f4gk5JkKU/s72-c/environmental-gas-cans.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-5718178340227117487</id><published>2009-03-08T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T10:59:05.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SbQFrzYbqaI/AAAAAAAAAmI/nBL07wrbDMs/s1600-h/Holdhead.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310876110661855650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 217px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SbQFrzYbqaI/AAAAAAAAAmI/nBL07wrbDMs/s320/Holdhead.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am sitting here with a warm pack on my neck(this comes after the ice pack), fighting a migraine while catching up on the millions of blog posts I have missed out on for so long. I am trying not to take my last migraine pill, because my stupid insurance makes us pay up front for everything, then they reimburse you a portion of what you spent. My medication costs $250 for 12 doses! I do have some saved posts to finish and get out, but I am not sure how long my migrained head can keep looking at a computer screen. I just wanted to write a short one here to apologize for taking sooo long in writing. The weekends are really my time for catching up, but something always seems to be getting in the way of that. So, I guess stay tuned. I will write. Now, I think I may go back to bed.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-5718178340227117487?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5718178340227117487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=5718178340227117487' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5718178340227117487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/5718178340227117487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-am-sitting-here-with-warm-pack-on-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SbQFrzYbqaI/AAAAAAAAAmI/nBL07wrbDMs/s72-c/Holdhead.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-1763265187939221965</id><published>2009-02-16T12:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T12:46:22.117-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SZnQfOdY4XI/AAAAAAAAAlw/cxllpWKB2_M/s1600-h/Work+Parties+037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303499271081353586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SZnQfOdY4XI/AAAAAAAAAlw/cxllpWKB2_M/s320/Work+Parties+037.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Story about my mommy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;I know that some of you saw the prayer request that Karen put out for me about my mom. Thank you for all the prayers. I have been praying for my mom for a loooooonnnnggggggggg time, and I think I just need more help. My mom is such a good person, but during most of her life, she has not believed in herself or loved herself. She gave up on God, I think, a long time ago. My theory is that because of what has happened in her life, especially with relationships and how hard it was to raise us kids alone, she doesn't think that God has ever been there for her. She has suffered from depression, I think her entire life. She is really shy and introverted, which makes it really hard to form good friendships. Despite being smart, strong, and courageous in many ways, she has always been extremely down on herself. She does not normally fight for what she deserves or wants. She has made a habit of sacrificing herself for others or to avoid. My mom has worked so hard her whole life, but despite that doesn't really believe that she deserves to be happy or deserves everything she has worked for and more. Right now she is feeling very disenchanted with her job. She has given 20 years to a bank that works her extremely hard, but has never made the effort to pay her what she deserves. She won't ask or demand what she deserves, instead believes the worst. That she must not be worth what she should be. She really thinks that they don't value her work ethic and that she must not be doing a good job. My theory is that they know she won't ask or demand what she deserves, so they go on under paying her and asking more and more of her. She is afraid to even start to look for another job because of her age, why would anyone hire her so close to retirement in their eyes? And no amount of trying to boost her up helps. I tried to witness to her, I really did. I have been planting seeds for a long time now, but she only listens respectfully. I know she isn't buying it. I guess I am getting so tired of praying the same thing for her, and nothing happens. Years and years of praying. All I want is for God to get himself into her heart and hold on. I want her to let him in. So, now I need more prayer help please. I want, for once in my life and hers, for her to be truly happy.....and to know that she deserves it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-1763265187939221965?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1763265187939221965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=1763265187939221965' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1763265187939221965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1763265187939221965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/story-about-my-mommy.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SZnQfOdY4XI/AAAAAAAAAlw/cxllpWKB2_M/s72-c/Work+Parties+037.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-1376392838931237985</id><published>2009-02-01T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T21:10:21.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SYaAGLmMg0I/AAAAAAAAAlo/q8-cmtXNe7Q/s1600-h/dancing+boots+%26+heals.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298062855328531266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SYaAGLmMg0I/AAAAAAAAAlo/q8-cmtXNe7Q/s320/dancing+boots+%26+heals.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;It seems that I have dropped off the planet, well my cyber planet anyway! I have been busy working on having a life, weird! I didn't realize what a safe little world I set up for myself because I was forced to initially for the last 2 years. It is funny to me that it has been a little hard to let go of the routine I have set for myself. I had specific TV shows I watched every night. A routine. I come home, take dogs for a walk, exercise, make dinner, get on the computer, clean, at times do work at home, then by 9pm, it is time to veg on the couch with pooches. I have gotten out of the habit of calling people on the phone, of going out and having fun, of cultivating friendships. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now, I am starting to live a little, and I find myself missing my Friday night on the couch! I get anxious if my week is too full because where is my down time?! I feel exhausted right now, because it is exhausting for me to relearn how to make friends. I also am exhausted with trying to fit everything in I want to do. I am NOT complaining, please don't think that, especially from all the whining&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;did these last two years. I think this is just an adjustment. It just amazes me how easily you can get yourself into a safe little routine. So, here is a run down on what I have been up to:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;1. I started learning how to play my guitar. Eric has been teaching me for free on Wed. nights. We sort of make an evening out of it. We both like the TV show Lost, so we practice guitar and watch Lost at the same time. I either go to his house or he comes to mine. This last Wed. I made him dinner as a thank you. We also talked until about 11pm. I was tired the next day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;2. I started going to a Bible Study group for singles, also with Eric on Tues. Nights. I really have only been to one Tues. night so far, and this Tues. I have a work thing to go to, so I won't go again until next week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;3. I am trying to connect with some friends, new and old. I talked to a girl that my friend Suree wanted me to connect with off of Facebook. We went to high school with her, she was in choir with us, but couple years younger than us. She seems like she will be fun to get to know, if we can find a night to actually get together. I have phone #'s for some other people that I haven't found a good time yet to stop and call. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;4. I have been playing phone tag with that guy I told you about last time, Craig, who is a set up by a friend from Denver. We finally talked this last week. I think we will meet for dinner later this coming week if I can squeeze it in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;5. I starting trying to fit in a single/marrieds group from another church, the group is called The Carpool. It is suppose to be a 20's-30's group. Yesterday we had an event called Bowling for Tacos. We met at King Pin and bowled a couple of games, then met at someones house for tacos. I walked in by myself at the bowling alley, and there were a lot more people there than I thought was going to be there. There were a couple of familiar faces that I met before in Dec., but many new faces. I felt really intimidated because it was sooooooooooooooooo obvious that I was thee oldest person in the group! I did, though, kick all their butts in bowling! I was high scorer the first game, and came in at a close second the second game. At Grace's house, host for tacos, it was so hard for me to feel comfortable! They are all so nice, but young! It really felt like work. But I kept trying to find things in common. About the time they all started talking about graduating from high school in the mid-to-late 90's, I decided it was time to go home. I was exhausted at 7pm! I couldn't wait to lay down on my safe couch in my safe little house! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;6. I had a date with Eric Friday night. I could not let myself relax at all! I really don't know why except that I really do try to over think everything, I just can't seem to help it. He and I are really suppose to be working on getting to know each other as friends right now, but the fact that he really wants more is hanging out there, hence the over analyzing on my part. He is being really respectful, and not trying to ne physical at all. I can not just be in the moment. Instead I am constantly thinking about the what ifs, and future, and what is God doing with this...... He and I can really talk about a lot &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; things, and that is great. I keep worrying though, that the just being able to let loose and laugh part may not be there. I did talk to him about that. He thinks that maybe I just need to see him in some different situations. I don't know, I really think my brain just needs to shut off! Anyway, he is really wanting to fill up more and more time together. He is asking me to do things all the time, and if you know me well, you know that causes anxiety for me. I don't know how to tell him that I can't spend that much time with him right away, because of that reason. I have dated long enough to know that that feels like rejection to a guy. If a guy is interested in a girl, he shows it by wanting to spend lots of time with the girl. That makes me want to run screaming! And anytime I have tried to explain that to a guy, they feel hurt and when they back off, they back way off. It has happened so many times before in the past. I don't want to reject him, so I come up with excuses to beg off. Like, I am suppose to go to a Superbowl party with him today, but I saw him Wed. night and Friday night, he asked me to go see a movie with him and his son (whom I have never met!) Saturday night (last night), and then he told me his kids will now be at the Superbowl party (yikes!). He also asked to go to church with me today.....I told him I don't feel well, isn't that dumb? I want to get to know him, but this is a little too much. How neurotic am I?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;7. I am skipping around a little, sorry, but I also wanted to include that I went Country dancing with a District co-worker last Saturday night. I did not want to go at all, but wound up having a lot of fun actually! I danced with several oldtimers, but they were great to dance with because they just wanted to dance, and they didn't care if I needed a little counting and coaching. I did however, forget that wearing high heals is NOT a great idea when country dancing. I developed a slight blister on my foot by the end of the night, but well worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;8. Mr. Digby started his first class, which of course I was 15 minutes late for!! It was a good class, he did really well, and I think we are going to learn alot!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ok, are you as tired as I am? I didn't even go to church today because I could not get out of bed, and was so tired. As I am typing this, my eyes feel really heavy like I could totally go back to bed and it is 12:30pm! Again, not complaining, I just need to get out of this anxious state so I can really let myself have fun. Anyway, go Steelers!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-1376392838931237985?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1376392838931237985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=1376392838931237985' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1376392838931237985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1376392838931237985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/it-seems-that-i-have-dropped-off-planet.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SYaAGLmMg0I/AAAAAAAAAlo/q8-cmtXNe7Q/s72-c/dancing+boots+%26+heals.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7694711674126787576</id><published>2009-01-19T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T21:37:53.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SXVi94Z9ZzI/AAAAAAAAAlU/Gq3fNrfXW8Y/s1600-h/Come+hither.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293245752296695602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 98px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SXVi94Z9ZzI/AAAAAAAAAlU/Gq3fNrfXW8Y/s200/Come+hither.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;f&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;acebook magic!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Facebook really has opened up a whole new world for me. Not only am I reconnecting with tons of past and present friends, but I am meeting a few new people too. It's ok that my facebook reunion in RC was a bust, I did get to see a couple people there that I haven't seen since high school, and get to know the faces I knew from a few others but really didn't know well. I have gotten several phone numbers from people in my past and from suggested friends too. I found one of my best guy friends from HS that I haven't talked to in 11 years. We didn't get to meet up over Christmas because of weather, but we have been playing phone tag ever since. One of Suree's friends, who lives here in the Springs, wants to get together and get to know each other. A friend of mine from college is now living in the Springs, her name is Rita, and I didn't know it before Fb. She also wants to get together. I reconnected with a guy, Eric, that I dated about three years ago, who is a Christian, and we have been doing things as friends for the last couple of weeks. But recently he told me he would like to date now. A friend in Denver is trying to set me up with a guy, Craig, who lives in Denver. He has called me twice now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;All of a sudden I am sort of getting a life, but my habit formed hermitism (my word) is a little hard to break, weird huh?! I have not called Jaleen, Suree's friend, or Rita yet. Jay, my long lost guy friend, called me a week-n-a-half ago, and I still have not called him back. I have yet to return Craig's calls. And even though I have been doing things with Eric, part of me wants to run away and stay warm and safe in my little house of a world. What is wrong with me??? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-7694711674126787576?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7694711674126787576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7694711674126787576' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7694711674126787576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7694711674126787576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/01/f-acebook-magic-facebook-really-has.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SXVi94Z9ZzI/AAAAAAAAAlU/Gq3fNrfXW8Y/s72-c/Come+hither.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-1179297097658236079</id><published>2009-01-10T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T11:08:11.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Well.......Digby is back! Bad behaviors in his new home is bringing him back. Digby does need the people to establish dominance with him right away, and if you don't he takes over. These people are just too sweet, and really need a sweet docile dog I guess. They let him intimidate them with his old man growl, and then he ended up biting the man. They had him just a couple days, and hadn't gotten him into an obedience class yet, and they decided he was too much for them. I tried to talk to Amy, the mom, about how he tried that with me at first and what I did about it, but they has already made up their mind. He is coming back. I am about to go get him now. Maybe that is why I couldn't cry. Maybe God was telling me to wait cuz he'll be back. So, next steps for Digby are to enroll him in a class that specifically helps me to teach him that all humans are his boss. As much as I am happy to get him back, I don't want him to always get bounced around. He deserves a forever home dang it! He also needs someone who has experience with dogs, not first timers. I just keep thinking back when I first got Millie and how hard that first month was especially. Millie chewed up a door! Ripped up blinds, escaped from the back yard repeatedly. I cried a lot, but somehow I couldn't give up, and if I had, where would she be? I pray that his next family will have that kind of stamina I guess. Anyway, I am going to go pick up the little booger right now. So yeah me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-1179297097658236079?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1179297097658236079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=1179297097658236079' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1179297097658236079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1179297097658236079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/01/well.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-4314931339457609050</id><published>2009-01-08T17:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T23:33:39.712-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SWaoFC5vMrI/AAAAAAAAAlM/_oo0z42hp5Y/s1600-h/Digby.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289099617025077938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SWaoFC5vMrI/AAAAAAAAAlM/_oo0z42hp5Y/s320/Digby.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SWan1d7cLVI/AAAAAAAAAlE/FaAX9c0mwj0/s1600-h/GEDC0314.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289099349402070354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SWan1d7cLVI/AAAAAAAAAlE/FaAX9c0mwj0/s320/GEDC0314.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Digby is in his new home as I write this. He got adopted shortly after New Years, but I was able to keep him for a few more days while they completed their classes. I did cry when they first told me it was official. I figured that I would be a wreck for the next several days, but I have been working with God. Those who know me, know my attachment to animals, and that I can go into a deep depression when I lose one. I kept telling myself going into this that I was serving others by giving a deserving dog a home while a Forever Home is located. And that I was helping to give a very special gift to someone else. I also kept telling myself that Digby is not my dog, he is someone elses. That and continually talking to God about this has helped my &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;heart&lt;/span&gt; so much. So, All Breed called me Monday, and I worked out a time with the new parents for the drop off to happen this Thursday. I had a few days to really prepare for this, because since I have had him since October, of course I fell in love with the little guy. My grumpy old man turned into a lovey snuggler with a fun attitude. I expected, and prepared myself for the inevitable good cry when I dropped him off, but it still hasn't happened. Digby's new mommy was so happy to see him, and he wanted to explore every inch of their house. He has a little doggy door just for him, and a bed with a canopy on it! He was happy to see her too. I really don't think he knows I am gone. I didn't cry in the car, and I am not crying now. I feel both happy for him and them, and also feel a lump in my stomach. We are going to miss him so much. But I am so glad I did this. It really feels good to have done something like this for someone other than me. I know I will let myself cry at some point, I wouldn't be me if I didn't. But for the moment, and thank you God for wine, I am ok. Bye Digby, we love you, and hope to run into you at the dog park. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SWai7Tw9ImI/AAAAAAAAAk8/KTaf3vz4Ff8/s1600-h/Rooby+%26+Digby.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289093952194814562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SWai7Tw9ImI/AAAAAAAAAk8/KTaf3vz4Ff8/s320/Rooby+%26+Digby.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/34626250-4314931339457609050?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4314931339457609050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=4314931339457609050' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4314931339457609050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4314931339457609050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/01/digby-is-in-his-new-home-as-i-write.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SWaoFC5vMrI/AAAAAAAAAlM/_oo0z42hp5Y/s72-c/Digby.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3586876873942409625</id><published>2009-01-06T19:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T19:26:46.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'm back!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Whewwwww!!!! I should so not try and do cool techy things like change to a fancier background. I thought I had lost everything! So, I am going to stick to the same-o-same-o for awhile. I would have been so upset if all that I have wrote after the last couple of years was lost in cyberspace. Sheesh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-3586876873942409625?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3586876873942409625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3586876873942409625' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3586876873942409625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3586876873942409625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-back-whewwwww-i-should-so-not-try.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8531362023682502478</id><published>2009-01-02T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T22:19:36.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SV8ARAggrnI/AAAAAAAAAk0/dPUVh2HUalM/s1600-h/longtail-co_flv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286944779750387314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SV8ARAggrnI/AAAAAAAAAk0/dPUVh2HUalM/s320/longtail-co_flv.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;So, I am trying to teach myself how to cast on. My crafters group hasn't met in awhile, and I just feel like I need to start over yet again! I haven't finished anything yet folks! One of the craft ladies that was helping me learn mentioned that you can find a number of websites that have free instructional videos that help get you started, and then give instruction on more challenging projects you might want to try. So, since I don't have anyone right now to help me get started, I thought I would give the websites a try. This one seems great: &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;KnittingHelp.com&lt;/span&gt;. She talks you through it slowly and repeats several times. I am still struggling, but it just could be that my mind takes longer to process things, I don't know. When I watch it, I think I can get it, it makes sense. But when I then try it out on my own, I still seem to be doing it wrong, and I don't know why. But anyway, I am going to keep taking cracks at it. Karen, try this out and see what you think. Or you might find a few other sites that work for you online. Happy knitting.....soon I hope!;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8531362023682502478?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8531362023682502478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8531362023682502478' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8531362023682502478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8531362023682502478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-i-am-trying-to-teach-myself-how-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SV8ARAggrnI/AAAAAAAAAk0/dPUVh2HUalM/s72-c/longtail-co_flv.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-4221842747352001398</id><published>2008-12-30T10:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T18:50:22.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Oh the joys of Christmas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Christmas was pretty interesting and weird this year to say the least. There is ALWAYS some sort of drama that goes on whenever my family gets together, it is inevitable. We are all so different. My mom has two siblings, my uncle John B. and my aunt Connie. John's family is all scattered around, so there's one excuse to not come to Spearfish, G &amp;amp; G's (Gramma &amp;amp; Grampa) house. The other excuse is my Gramma is very hard to take, I'll get into that one soon. It's really too bad, because they are all pretty fun to be around. John's family likes to have fun and do things, they are low key and low drama. Connie's family, I fondly call them the rednecks of the family, are the ones that live in town. Her oldest son, Troy is different from his siblings though, he has a good head on his shoulders, but his oldest child is a hellion! His siblings, Brett &amp;amp; Lisa are chalk full of dysfunction and drama. Brett is an alcoholic, and Lisa also likes to drink but is generally very loud and boisterous. Connie's clan tends to show up right when it's time to eat, doesn't help at all, they bring most of the chaos with them, and leave as soon as presents are open. Then there is my family. Yes, we are the more sensitive of the families, our feelings get hurt easily, but we are also the ones that show up early, help cook and set up, serve during the meal, and help clean up at the end. Last year, we had worked hard to set everything up, and we including my Grandparents had to sit at the "kids" table, while the rest got waited on by my mom and sat where ever they wanted without a care at all. This year, we were determined to make sure there was an actual "kids" table and my Grandparents spots were clearly marked. At first, this was met with raised eyebrows and snide comments, but it worked pretty well for the most part. The problem occurred as some adults consumed LOTS of alcohol, and the child voices began to rise. Gramma has no tolerance. She snapped several times. It was very hard to take, worse than most years. I looked around at all these people that are my family. Cousins that I don't see often at all. People that the only thing I have in common with is that we are family. As the kids grow older they are also getting louder, which is great. They are kids having fun. Why is Gramma still having these big get togethers when it is so obviously hard for her to handle. She has always been a stress case, but man it is really bad now. I want to have compassion for my Gramma, I really do. She has had a hard year. Bouts of sickness, dealing with Grampa's memory loss, surgery on her wrist, shingles on one arm that is still hurting her. I want to feel bad for her, but she uses all this as a way to gain attention and keep all focus on her. She has always been this way, now she just has more ammunition to work with. She is constantly yelling at my Grampa and calling him names whether he is joking around or can't hear something or forgets something. She behaves as if he is a huge burden that only she has to bare. It's so hard to take. No one can talk to her about it, she is always right. You also can not joke with her or tease her in any way shape or form. The last night I was there, my brother &amp;amp; his wife, Gramma &amp;amp; Grampa and myself were playing cards. We were laughing and having fun. Gramma was having fun too, telling a negative story that she has told about 5 times in the last week about someone who couldn't read her mind. I made a joke, not thinking cuz we were having fun, about her story. She blew up at me. It was horrible, hateful, and ugly what she yelled at me. We were all stunned. I tried to say that I was just joking and some other things but it didn't matter, she continued screaming at me. I then told her that she cannot talk to me that way and that she was hurting me. She yelled that she was my elder and could talk to me anyway she wanted to. I then stated that I was done talking to her. She then continued on with her negative story she started out with. We finished our card game in silence. I just started crying. I trying not to be noticed but I couldn't stop it. After the game, she moved away from me and wouldn't look at me. I really didn't know what to do next. It was time for me to go home. I was still crying. Part of me wanted to scream at her or storm out in some dramatic fashion. The other part of me was trying to figure out how to show mercy. This would have been a good time for a prayer. But I often forget to lean on God when things like this come up. God heard me anyway, and he took over for me. I was making the rounds giving everyone hugs good bye. Last came Gramma. I gave her a hug, she started crying and apologized. We talked quietly for a bit. It was good, but sad. I'm glad that God did that. It just makes me sad that this is how my Gramma is living her last years. And I'm not a good enough Christian to....I don't know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;So, long long rambling story short, this will be the last Christmas we all will have together under Gramma's house. It is time for a change. Not sure what that is going to look like at this time, but I know things will never be the same, and maybe that is a good thing. Isn't family strange? They may all be strangers and dysfunctional, but you love them anyway, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-4221842747352001398?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4221842747352001398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=4221842747352001398' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4221842747352001398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4221842747352001398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/12/oh-joys-of-christmas-christmas-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-9149943609833400101</id><published>2008-12-17T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T19:54:51.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img class="gl_color_fg" alt="Text Color" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;It happens all the time. I am driving around, at the store, at work, doing stuff at home, and I am blogging in my head. A lot of times, I think about actually sitting down to type out my story, but either I am just too tired, busy and can't stop, or I can't decide or remember which story I wanted to write about. I must have had 6 or 7 blog stories in my head this week, but now, I can't really think about what to write. So, I am going to be lame and post a couple pictures. I really can't wait to have two weeks off! I need to get some brain cells back. Couple more days. I will leave you with this tidbit: Digby is coming home with me for Christmas. Imagine if you will. 4 dogs + 6 cats, all in one small trailer house.:) Fa la la la la!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280972540525614370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUnIi7qfFSI/AAAAAAAAAkU/WYSRuucjPLU/s400/GEDC0335.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280972212795350098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUnIP2xgHFI/AAAAAAAAAkM/DBNfFNHcntI/s400/GEDC0332.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-9149943609833400101?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9149943609833400101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=9149943609833400101' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/9149943609833400101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/9149943609833400101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/12/it-happens-all-time.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUnIi7qfFSI/AAAAAAAAAkU/WYSRuucjPLU/s72-c/GEDC0335.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2766097803378661264</id><published>2008-12-06T10:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T11:00:20.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrFsqT4HaI/AAAAAAAAAkE/IYWi0G8Ss_Q/s1600-h/GEDC0323.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276747284480531874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrFsqT4HaI/AAAAAAAAAkE/IYWi0G8Ss_Q/s400/GEDC0323.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Carey's idea of praying in the car. Sorry Carey, had to do it!;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrFYjIch0I/AAAAAAAAAj8/FahWp3jOIYI/s1600-h/GEDC0322.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276746938956154690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrFYjIch0I/AAAAAAAAAj8/FahWp3jOIYI/s400/GEDC0322.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Carey's wish for Christmas, not world peace....gumballs!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrFFJQA9uI/AAAAAAAAAj0/yRBzNAcCH1c/s1600-h/GEDC0321.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276746605591066338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrFFJQA9uI/AAAAAAAAAj0/yRBzNAcCH1c/s400/GEDC0321.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Out to dinner with the girls!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrEyAEp1bI/AAAAAAAAAjs/p9vt_gVmYsA/s1600-h/GEDC0320.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276746276709979570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrEyAEp1bI/AAAAAAAAAjs/p9vt_gVmYsA/s400/GEDC0320.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Closet Hockey Star!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrEZ0FcF4I/AAAAAAAAAjk/kihzdrXvbSo/s1600-h/GEDC0319.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276745861175187330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrEZ0FcF4I/AAAAAAAAAjk/kihzdrXvbSo/s400/GEDC0319.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Score! Carey, littlest J Boy, and friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrD9GdydLI/AAAAAAAAAjc/A5vqQkQMSaY/s1600-h/GEDC0316.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276745367892948146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrD9GdydLI/AAAAAAAAAjc/A5vqQkQMSaY/s400/GEDC0316.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Skating with the Grosdidiers! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrDaBajbLI/AAAAAAAAAjU/IOqUQbia0Zs/s1600-h/GEDC0315.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276744765241781426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrDaBajbLI/AAAAAAAAAjU/IOqUQbia0Zs/s400/GEDC0315.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Thanksgiving dinner contributions- who brought what I ask you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I had such a great time in Montrose/Mitchell with Carey and fam. I can't thank her enough. It has been such a long time since Carey &amp;amp; have got together like this, it all was so familiar and fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Trip account:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Flying into the Sioux Falls airport I kept telling this teen girl from Spokane that she should wear her warm coat, hat &amp;amp; gloves pretty much the whole time she was there because it is sooooo cold here in SD. I myself was wearing a wool sweater, down vest, scarf, and winter boots on the plane in anticipation. Stepped outside of the airport to greet Carey, and discovered 50 degree sunny weather....doh! Full-frontal hugs, J Boys in the back playing gameboys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Thanksgiving dinner with the Grosdidiers was fun. The "small gathering" consisted of 32 people! Lots of food, and drinks, had a great time taking in the family dynamics. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Tons of family and friends went skating at a rink that Jamie coaches at. He rented it out for all of us. I was reminded, though, this wasn't everyone! We had a great time goofing around. Some played hockey on one side, while the rest of us tried to hit pucks in a net goalied by littlest J. Big J organized the games for all of us to play later on. We played Sharks and Minnows, a tag-your-it game. I fell 3 times! Then we had relay races, old people against the young. We lost! My only regret is that Carey accidently deleted a really cute pic of her &amp;amp; I!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Saturday, Carey &amp;amp; I went to Sioux Falls. We met up with Bobbi, and prepared for an event Carey &amp;amp; Bobbi were putting on for a client. Went window shopping at some of the really cool new stores in Sioux Falls. Sioux Falls has changed quite a bit since I was last there. It feels like a mini Denver really. Carey, Bobbi &amp;amp; I had dinner at a great Italian place. A much needed girlfriend time for me! We talked quite awhile about our crazy lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Sunday was football day at Carey's house. It was so nice just hanging out by the fire. Little J telling me all the stats and repeating the plays from the computer as I watched the actual game on TV. Big J &amp;amp; Littlest J playing games on the floor. Carey putting up Christmas decor, and me laying under a blanket watch/sleeping during a really good game. It was so nice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Carey caught me up on what has been going on with some of the people we went to college with, and we talked a lot about our own lives. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Things I was reminded of during this trip:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;My best friends are going to always be there for me no matter what is going on in our lives. You guys are my family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Everyone is experiencing ups and downs, that life, even if it appears to be so to me, is not perfect for anyone. We are all going through stuff, and we all have a lot of blessings too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I had such a great time with you Carey, thank you! I love you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/34626250-2766097803378661264?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2766097803378661264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2766097803378661264' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2766097803378661264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2766097803378661264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/12/careys-idea-of-praying-in-car.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/STrFsqT4HaI/AAAAAAAAAkE/IYWi0G8Ss_Q/s72-c/GEDC0323.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-672024030484755370</id><published>2008-11-23T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T12:46:29.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Thank you, Carey!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;I am flying out to Sioux Falls this Wed. to see one of my oldest and dearest friends!! Thank you for inviting me, and for not allowing me to spend the Turkey Day alone. Thank you also to all my friends for your thoughts, prayers, calls, and love. I love you all! This Thanksgiving I will be remembering all that I really do have to be thankful for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Thank you God, for reminding me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-672024030484755370?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/672024030484755370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=672024030484755370' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/672024030484755370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/672024030484755370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/thank-you-carey-i-am-flying-out-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8195506167235463765</id><published>2008-11-20T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T09:26:16.260-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I'm sorry for the last post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I think I am grieving the loss of what I wanted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I am trying to look at it like I am laying down myself once and for all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I am not saying I am going to curl up in a ball and stay there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Not saying that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I am just surrendering:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Though the fig tree does not bud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;and there are no grapes on the vines,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;though the olive crop fails&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;and the fields produce no food,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;though there are no sheep in the pen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;and no cattle in the stalls,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I will be joyful in God my savior.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;The Sovereign Lord is my strength;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;he enables me to go on the heights. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Habakkuk 3:17-19&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;pray&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8195506167235463765?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8195506167235463765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8195506167235463765' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8195506167235463765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8195506167235463765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-sorry-for-last-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-4767810091112456290</id><published>2008-11-20T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T11:17:47.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;I had a date Friday night. One that I was actually excited about. He is a Christian, close to my age, has a good career, and seemed to want much of what I want out of life. I was nervous too, I hate when I get nervous. I also felt hopeful. We have a lot in common, so I thought at the very least we would have a good time even if nothing comes from it. I told myself that God is in control, and he won't let me fall for anyone I shouldn't be with, and I still believe that. We had a good first day, I thought. He seemed to want to keep the night going, always suggesting we go one more place. He also touched my arm more than once and even hugged me at one point. I told him up front that I was nervous, and that I can hold back a little when I first meet someone. I wanted him to know there is more to know about me that what he will see the first time. At the end of the night, he said that now I have to ask him out. It was very cute, so naturally I thought he likes me. But that is where it ended. Before we went on our date, he texted me often and we talked on the phone for over an hour. After the date, he didn't do any of that. I am independent and a slow mover, so you know I was good about not pouncing on him. I waited a couple days before emailing him, but received no response. I waited a little while after that, and emailed again. I knew something was wrong, but what went wrong during our date? The other voice in my head also said maybe he is busy, and he did put the ball in my court. So, Tuesday night I called him, and it went straight to voicemail. I did ask God before hand that if this isn't meant to be let it go to voicemail so I can just leave a message. I said in my message, something breezy and funny, then I said that I wasn't sure what happened but he could call me if he wanted to. I put it back in is court. He didn't call me back, but I did get an email last night from him. It was your basic he-wanted-to-make-himself-feel-better email. He said that he thought I was a good person, but unfortunately we could only be friends. That is it. I resisted the urge to write back and ask how he came up with that after only one date, what's the point. I keep telling myself that it is most likely timing for him. It has only been a year since his divorce. But I can't help but feel so disappointed. Not because I lost this guy in particular but because it is painfully painfully getting to be obvious that I am meant to be alone. Yeah yeah yeah, you have heard this before. Don't read on if you don't want to hear it again. I am sad. I am tired of being alone. I am tired of feeling like this is all there is. I am in a job that is just a job, no good friends here, no relationship. No real happiness. I am tired of just moving slowly through life. I don't want to give up but maybe I am suppose to. Do you know I have not had close friends here for two years. I have not dated anyone special in four years. I have scattered dates here and there that all end up being disappointing. I am lonely. I keep crying out to God to lift me out of this, to make me ok to be alone, to help me only live for him, but nothing different happens. The one thing I have always asked God for is to not leave me alone in life. I can't stand it anymore! I am ready to give in. To whole up. I'm sorry positive thinking is not entering in here. I have tried so hard. I am ready to stop trying. I am suppose to mirror someones life, something I have fought for a long time, but I can't fight it any more. I can't. So......I don't know. I don't really know what to do. Prayer is not working. Hope is not helping. Please know I just need to get all this yucky stuff out of me. Hopefully, in time I will be ok with life the way it is. And since I don't seem to have anything cheery to say, I'll stop writing.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-4767810091112456290?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4767810091112456290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=4767810091112456290' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4767810091112456290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/4767810091112456290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-had-date-friday-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-6761748858210120432</id><published>2008-11-15T12:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T12:14:14.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SR8rrkSwmNI/AAAAAAAAAjM/m15zTY5yIyg/s1600-h/GEDC0242.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268978116523497682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SR8rrkSwmNI/AAAAAAAAAjM/m15zTY5yIyg/s320/GEDC0242.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;This may be Digby's last week with us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Already! I was called the other day by All Breed, asking me to bring him in for an Introduction. He gets to meet a family that is interested in him. I don't really know what to expect from this visit. I don't know if they have already gone through their classes and could take him home that same time if they like him or not. They didn't tell me to bring all his stuff with him, but I don't really know what will happen. I am sad, but I haven't cried or anything. He is such a great fit for us. My dogs really love that little guy. But I didn't choose to do this for me or my dogs. I am doing this for Digby. I can only hope they are good people. All I know about them is they live in Denver. So, pray for little Digby that the right people adopt him. and pray for us that we don't miss him too much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-6761748858210120432?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6761748858210120432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=6761748858210120432' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6761748858210120432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/6761748858210120432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/this-may-be-digbys-last-week-with-us.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SR8rrkSwmNI/AAAAAAAAAjM/m15zTY5yIyg/s72-c/GEDC0242.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2866253608945986972</id><published>2008-11-10T15:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T15:43:11.982-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have a lot to catch you up on I know, but sadly, and I will blog about this later, I have an addiction to Facebook. So, instead of writing a big long story about what I have been doing, here are some pictures with short captions. Ask me questions, and I will elaborate more I promise. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;So, this first pic is of Jennifer &amp;amp; I. She came to visit me the same week I got Digby and just before I flew to Washington, DC.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRjCoKfafsI/AAAAAAAAAjE/gpqOh8zNXdU/s1600-h/GEDC0238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267173759476465346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRjCoKfafsI/AAAAAAAAAjE/gpqOh8zNXdU/s400/GEDC0238.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;This is Karen &amp;amp; I at a fun Mexican Restaurant in Washington, DC. We met our college buddy Stro there. By the way, I stayed in the hotel that Reagon was shot in front of. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRjCTbr4h6I/AAAAAAAAAi8/r7Yu6Ua4IF8/s1600-h/GEDC0246.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267173403314915234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRjCTbr4h6I/AAAAAAAAAi8/r7Yu6Ua4IF8/s400/GEDC0246.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRjAMjPkoDI/AAAAAAAAAi0/0WOi0U0vwNM/s1600-h/GEDC0244.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRi_6oV00HI/AAAAAAAAAis/XM_kkXCpFgI/s1600-h/GEDC0245.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;This was E's brainchild here. He asked for my lipstick to draw the blood trickling down the pumpkin. He had a great time stabbing the poor pumpkin. Poor pumpkin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRi_od-vSjI/AAAAAAAAAik/sXxk3fqvKLo/s1600-h/GEDC0249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267170466173241906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRi_od-vSjI/AAAAAAAAAik/sXxk3fqvKLo/s400/GEDC0249.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;We all went ice-skating for a school fundraiser, Bubba's school. So, it was old fogies and a ton of preteens. Ask Karen how hard the ice was:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRi_Frz0pgI/AAAAAAAAAic/baLAoyC8JN8/s1600-h/GEDC0261.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267169868590130690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRi_Frz0pgI/AAAAAAAAAic/baLAoyC8JN8/s400/GEDC0261.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;One of Karen's neighbor, Debbie, had a party one of the days I was in Virginia. It was a lot of fun. Debbie taught several people how to Salsa. I sat back and drank a few glasses of 4 buck chuck, yum!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRi-UIp3fHI/AAAAAAAAAiU/gmHFvtUAoj8/s1600-h/GEDC0281.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267169017339542642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRi-UIp3fHI/AAAAAAAAAiU/gmHFvtUAoj8/s400/GEDC0281.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;It has been a whirlwind time. First came Digby, then Jen, then DC for a conference, then finally a great weekend with Karen &amp;amp; fam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;The end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-2866253608945986972?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2866253608945986972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2866253608945986972' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2866253608945986972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2866253608945986972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-have-lot-to-catch-you-up-on-i-know.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRjCoKfafsI/AAAAAAAAAjE/gpqOh8zNXdU/s72-c/GEDC0238.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3367871498969512649</id><published>2008-11-06T19:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T10:32:19.250-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRXXrdU9zrI/AAAAAAAAAh8/T7hIcOJSiAs/s1600-h/GEDC0306.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266352480886574770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRXXrdU9zrI/AAAAAAAAAh8/T7hIcOJSiAs/s400/GEDC0306.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Doggies!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;I got his name wrong when I first told you about him. It's not Bigby, it's Digby. Oops! Life with Digby is going really well. He is a funny character to say the least! He is sweet but stubborn in a way. He isn't so stubborn that he won't listen, but he will look at me like, "No, make me", then he will make some grunting noises, then he complies with the command. He is my little buddy, he follows me around everywhere. When I am on the computer, he will wait outside the baby gate and wait for me to come back over to his side. He is also a sweet snuggler, as you can see from this pic above. Millie and Rooby love him, and that is a feat for Rooby! Before I got him, they told me that he has a problem with marking his territory excessively, but he has only peed once. I kept him on a leash for the first few days, so I could keep tabs on him. He learned very quickly that he can't pee in my house. He really fits in great with us. It will be sad for all of us when he leaves us, but I know he will a great pet for any family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRXMqmhjKCI/AAAAAAAAAhs/uhwR8PgWOig/s1600-h/GEDC0210.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266340371547498530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRXMqmhjKCI/AAAAAAAAAhs/uhwR8PgWOig/s400/GEDC0210.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SROyv08R3dI/AAAAAAAAAhk/l2mSTEmymss/s1600-h/GEDC0243.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265748924061310418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SROyv08R3dI/AAAAAAAAAhk/l2mSTEmymss/s400/GEDC0243.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/34626250-3367871498969512649?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3367871498969512649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3367871498969512649' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3367871498969512649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3367871498969512649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/doggies-i-got-his-name-wrong-when-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SRXXrdU9zrI/AAAAAAAAAh8/T7hIcOJSiAs/s72-c/GEDC0306.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-260678365706661068</id><published>2008-11-04T19:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T20:46:49.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SREdhv0SylI/AAAAAAAAAhc/27URMjgupKU/s1600-h/vote3113.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265021904981510738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 171px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 171px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SREdhv0SylI/AAAAAAAAAhc/27URMjgupKU/s400/vote3113.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;When I left the polling place I started to cry soon after I walked out the door. I cried more as I drove to Starbucks to get my free coffee. I am struck at how emotional I felt after this time of voting. I didn't even feel this way when I voted for the first time. This is just such a defining moment in our history. Never before have I paid so much attention to the campaign and the issues. I even studied the Colorado Amendments and Questions on the ballot. I wanted so much to be more informed when making my decisions, to feel good about how I am voting instead of guessing. But even feeling more informed, I know I still do not know everything there is to know about the candidates or the issues. I cried because I feel good about my choices, but I also know that no matter who becomes President, they have an uphill battle. Our nation's future is in jeopardy. I am worried that I made wrong choices. I don't want to contribute to our nations or my states failure if it comes to that. I prayed on my way to Starbucks. I decided to allow myself to feel good about my choices, and I placed firmly our nation in God's hands. He, and only he knows what is best for us, and what we must go through to be the country he wants us to be. I cried when they announced that Barack Obama is the President Elect for so many reasons. And I cried when John McCain conceded for so many reasons. Never before have I felt this way about an election, I just can't shake it. I know I will go on crying through Obama's speech that is coming up. There is a feeling of being smack in the middle of history. Whether you are for Obama or not, it says a lot about how far our country has come. You can't ignore this moment no matter who you voted for. I am not going to talk about who I voted for, I do not like defending my political choices, I just don't. This is something that is deeply personal to me. I will say, that I did not have my mind fully made up until I walked into the polling place. Man, this was so hard. I have always been "blessed" with the ability to see both sides, good and bad, which makes it very difficult for me to keep myself from being pulled back and forth. This quality can be good at work when I have to mediate conflicts, but for things like this it is a struggle. Anyway, I am proud that I voted. And I am so proud that I am able to. Thank you to all who gave themselves over for this privilege.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-260678365706661068?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/260678365706661068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=260678365706661068' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/260678365706661068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/260678365706661068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/when-i-left-polling-place-i-started-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SREdhv0SylI/AAAAAAAAAhc/27URMjgupKU/s72-c/vote3113.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-2721551361821137179</id><published>2008-10-18T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T15:36:32.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I had a To Do List too:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;1. Wash Clothes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;2. wash dishes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;3. make bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;4. check blogs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;5. weed Wac&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;6. make attempt to pull the last weeds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;7. take things downstairs to be stored&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;8. plant spring bulbs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;9. sweep walks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;10. rake mulch &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;11. sweep crap off of cellar steps &amp;amp; spray for spiders&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;12. go for hike &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;This is what I actually accomplished:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Most of 1-4 (still have some clothes to wash)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Plumber had to come and unclog a VERY BAD backup in the bathroom! So much for plans. I think I will go buy some wine now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-2721551361821137179?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2721551361821137179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=2721551361821137179' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2721551361821137179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/2721551361821137179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-had-to-do-list-too-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-1366366314306581017</id><published>2008-10-15T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T08:24:05.549-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SPYIwWufJEI/AAAAAAAAAhU/s1K6iFI30YQ/s1600-h/FoodShih.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257399241828934722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SPYIwWufJEI/AAAAAAAAAhU/s1K6iFI30YQ/s400/FoodShih.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Meet Bigby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Bigby is a foster dog hoping to learn how to be a good poochie for a good family to adopt him. But before that can happen, Bigby needs help. Bigby needs to learn dog manners when playing with other dogs. Bigby needs to learn trust in people. Bigby needs to learn how to be loved. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Meet Chris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Chris is Bigby's new foster mom. This is something I have thought about doing for a long long time. Pretty much since I rescued Millie. Having Millie, and helping her get over a lot of pain in her little life has been so rewarding for me. I have learned that you don't give up, even when things get tough, and Millie was a challenge to say the least. But now, even with her few quirks she holds on to, she really is an amazing doggy! I want to do that for someone else, only I will be working out most of the bugs before his Forever Home gets him. This is my way of serving, of giving back. Giving back to a needy doggy, and hopefully to a deserving family who wants to open their heart to a special dog. Wish me luck, this won't easy, but I can hardly wait to get started!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-1366366314306581017?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1366366314306581017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=1366366314306581017' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1366366314306581017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/1366366314306581017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/10/meet-bigby.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SPYIwWufJEI/AAAAAAAAAhU/s1K6iFI30YQ/s72-c/FoodShih.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-3384349069875450948</id><published>2008-10-12T17:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T19:41:35.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SPKVQW8TU8I/AAAAAAAAAhM/8XYWxdwmRqE/s1600-h/footer_sbucks.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256427823363740610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SPKVQW8TU8I/AAAAAAAAAhM/8XYWxdwmRqE/s400/footer_sbucks.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Starbucks anyone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Today at church, I was manning the Coffee Bar. I was a little stressed getting there, because of course I was late. Shocker! But when I arrived I was told the that coffee maker was not working and they couldn't figure out why. I belong to a church with a severe coffee addiction, so you can imagine how big my eyes got then. They decided it wasn't a fuse, and since the Electrician had been here earlier this weekend, they must have done something to cause this situation. I joked, "well, you know there is always Starbucks"! We all laughed, but I was serious. The worship band was about to finish their practice session, and they REALLY need their coffee, plus the early birds were on their way in! Before we knew it there was a large crowd hovering around the coffee bar, and I began to get nervous. Two guys decided it would be in our best interest to go get some hot water (we didn't have hot water for tea either people!) and a few canisters of coffee from the nearest gas station. So, the explaining began to each eager coffee drinker that approached. This whole thing turned out to be pretty fun. I talked to a few people who were here for the first time, and I was able to talk up my church and welcome them. I also talked to members of my church that I haven't seen in a while, cuz I have been sleeping in;/, and it felt as if the ice was broken. We laughed and joked, it was so fun considering I didn't have a very eventful weekend. The guys finally came back with three canisters of hot water, and only two canisters of coffee....sheesh! Needless to say the coffee was gone in about 2 seconds! Well, as church was just getting started, someone had a bright idea to check the back of the coffee maker. Yes, you guessed it, there was an on &amp;amp; off switch that was off for some reason, it is never off you see. I didn't think of this option because the machine had power buttons in the front too, so..... Anyway, I quickly made some coffee, and all was good and happy! For me, this was probably the best day I have had at my little church. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-3384349069875450948?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3384349069875450948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=3384349069875450948' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3384349069875450948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/3384349069875450948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/10/starbucks-anyone-today-at-church-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SPKVQW8TU8I/AAAAAAAAAhM/8XYWxdwmRqE/s72-c/footer_sbucks.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-258181924656656284</id><published>2008-10-11T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T10:20:50.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;For Karen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255946476035377106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SPDfeQaOB9I/AAAAAAAAAg0/zzaAFMBdihM/s400/GEDC0207.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Last weekend I finally embraced Fall. I died my hair darker, got out my sweaters &amp;amp; turtle necks, decorated the house for fall, baked cookies, quit watering;), and got these little beauties at Kohl's! Happy Fall!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-258181924656656284?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/258181924656656284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=258181924656656284' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/258181924656656284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/258181924656656284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/10/for-karen-last-weekend-i-finally.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SPDfeQaOB9I/AAAAAAAAAg0/zzaAFMBdihM/s72-c/GEDC0207.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-8445927356564373445</id><published>2008-09-27T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T20:07:55.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SN7y-ic05dI/AAAAAAAAAgs/0FOVLLoxKY4/s1600-h/150px-NCI_steamed_shrimp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250901371774100946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SN7y-ic05dI/AAAAAAAAAgs/0FOVLLoxKY4/s200/150px-NCI_steamed_shrimp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;The Food Nazi told me we weren't allowed to go to Famous Daves, or any other chain restaurant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;So, I went on the search and found this great hole in the wall place very close to where I live. It is called The English Dockside Seafood &amp;amp; Grill. It won Colorado Springs Best Of three years in a row. Amazing shrimp at this place! My mouth is watering still! So, I had some good food, great company, and a night out! The only bummer is they do not serve wine. :( And who was my date, you ask? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;My date was none other than my best friend's hubby, in town for work. Thank you Karen for sharing your best Dude with me for one evening. And thanks for forcing me to find such a great place. We were missing you though.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-8445927356564373445?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8445927356564373445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=8445927356564373445' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8445927356564373445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/8445927356564373445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/food-nazi-told-me-we-werent-allowed-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SN7y-ic05dI/AAAAAAAAAgs/0FOVLLoxKY4/s72-c/150px-NCI_steamed_shrimp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34626250.post-7885072523487348737</id><published>2008-09-27T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T09:35:44.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SN5fNMj-y5I/AAAAAAAAAgk/CyJxndiG-m8/s1600-h/GEDC0206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250738895875656594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SN5fNMj-y5I/AAAAAAAAAgk/CyJxndiG-m8/s320/GEDC0206.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;This what I like to do every Saturday morning. It's kind of bad in a way, sitting here, drinking coffee, laughing at all the funny blog posts. Especially when it is a beautiful fall day outside. I should be pulling weeds, putting together my Adirondack chairs, cleaning something, shopping, I'm even skipping my knitting group (:) right now cuz I would rather sit here in my pj's and blog! It's an addiction I tell ya! Maybe because I don't get to blog much during the week, I crave this time with my friends. But man I have a lot to do today! Oh well, I guess there are worse ways to spend your time. So, you all enjoy your weekends, I'll be right here blogging. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34626250-7885072523487348737?l=poochiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7885072523487348737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34626250&amp;postID=7885072523487348737' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7885072523487348737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34626250/posts/default/7885072523487348737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poochiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/this-what-i-like-to-do-every-saturday.html' title=''/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15854505564888492857</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SUpxv13-JII/AAAAAAAAAkc/Y2V7mp4qq8o/S220/Come+hither.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YHce7n5nyWE/SN5fNMj-y5I/AAAAAAAAAgk/CyJxndiG-m8/s72-c/GEDC0206.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry></feed>
