<?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-12769815</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:19:42.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Inedible Journey</title><subtitle type='html'>A quirky pile of ramblings</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>101</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-6310658403516712382</id><published>2007-07-25T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T08:59:24.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 25th - Pop goes the stomach?</title><content type='html'>speaking of water&lt;br /&gt;well, not really....but speaking of diet coke...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was watching "Myth Busters" with my kids and they were testing the myth about Mentos added to  diet coke creating kind of an explosion.  The myth was true but the weirdest thing...the most EYE OPENING thing!... was when they used a pig stomach (the pig wasn't attached) to see what would happen in your tummy if you combined those two ingredients.  Well, in short, nothing much, BUT when they poured just the diet soda into the pig stomach the stomach lining expanded like a balloon!  SERIOUSLY.  Not just a little bit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that got me thinking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this time, when I drink diet soda, my stomach is stretching out like a blown up balloon?  I'm not sure, but I think it might be...so bye bye soda! (You people might call it "pop"...I'm a west coaster...whatdoIknow!)  I love diet coke...it's an addiction, I admit it....but after seeing that...I'm going to love water more.  From now on!  I'm quitting diet coke...cold turkey! (Or pig - as the case may be.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-6310658403516712382?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6310658403516712382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=6310658403516712382' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/6310658403516712382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/6310658403516712382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2007/07/july-25th-pop-goes-stomach.html' title='July 25th - Pop goes the stomach?'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-8166842678561617614</id><published>2007-06-17T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T13:37:03.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 17th 2007 - The Dream - My Grandmother</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;So a few days ago I was speaking to my Mom on the phone discussing Grandma's death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Mom was describing what the staff at the assisted living place had told her about Grandma's last moments of life.  It was described almost as if she just started coughing, choked and died within moments.  I think Mom was feeling that basically Grandma had choked to death.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;EVERY TIME&lt;/span&gt; I tried to talk to Mom about this during our phone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;conversation&lt;/span&gt; the line would go dead so that Mom couldn't hear what I was saying.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;I'd hear her say "Hello?  Hello?"....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;I'd stop talking about Grandma...and the line would clear.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;This must have happened at least 6 times in a row!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;We both laughed saying maybe Grandma was trying to tell us something. I stopped trying to talk about her body...and the phone remained clear from then on.  I don't have a history of phone line troubles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Anyway, so last night/early this morning I woke up from a very vivid dream about my Grandmother.  She was talking to me and standing behind her were my Grandfather, my Uncle Johnny, and a crowd of other relatives who had passed away over the years.  Most of them are buried in the same &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cemetery&lt;/span&gt; in which my Grandmother was laid to rest - thanks to a large family plot purchased by my Great Grandparents many, many, years ago.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;In my dream she said to me, "I didn't choke.  They came to get me, and I went.  It was what I wanted."   I could see almost a movie of it; my Uncle Johnny (her brother) coming for her with his hand out and my Grandfather right behind him smiling and all of the others with them.  I could also feel her happiness.  I'm not sure if she told me she was happy...or if I just felt it.  It was a strong sensation either way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;I woke up thinking, "Wow!  That sure felt real!  I'll have to tell Mom." and promptly fell back to sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;When I woke up this morning I almost called her right away, but it was early and it's Father's Day, so I figured I'd tell her later.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;But then you know how when you dream something...and wake up.....it begins to fade?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;It was fading without me realizing it, until I spoke to my Mom.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Suddenly as she was about to hand the phone over to Dad for his Father's Day greeting from me, it all burst back into my mind.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;I told her I wanted to tell her about a dream I had about Grandma.  She and her sister had a dream about her too.  I thought maybe they would all be the same dream, but they weren't.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Mom became very emotional when I told her mine....and I had a strong sense that I was supposed to have told her about it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;I'm glad it didn't slip away before I could tell her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;I always felt very bonded with my Grandmother....and I still do.  I can feel her around me. It's hard to explain the sensation to anyone...but I know I'm not crazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;Seeing her body so soon after she passed away was an odd experience for me.  I had the strongest sensation that I was simply looking at her shell....like a shell on the beach. A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;vessel&lt;/span&gt; that once held life. Her spirit was no longer in her shell....she was where she should be...but still within reach in some way.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"&gt;The sensation of her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;presence&lt;/span&gt; remains like a sort of whisper.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-8166842678561617614?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8166842678561617614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=8166842678561617614' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/8166842678561617614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/8166842678561617614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2007/06/june-17th-2007-dream-my-grandmother.html' title='June 17th 2007 - The Dream - My Grandmother'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-812507244489358072</id><published>2007-06-04T23:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T15:51:57.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandma May 21, 1919 - June 3, 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mares eat oasts n Does eat Oats and little lambs eat Ivy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A kid'll eat ivy too, wouldn't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma couldn't sing... or so she thought ....or so we teased...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I can clearly hear her singing that song in my head...and it sounds beautiful to me. It always did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was a teenager, whenever I'd call grandma on the phone I'd say "Hello my beautiful grandmother!"....and she'd reply "Hello my beautiful Granddaughter!" It was just a greeting, but it was something that I think both of us loved. I always felt like if she ever reached a point where she lost her memory and didn't know me, she'd probably still automatically answer that greeting in the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had a way of making each one of us feel like we were an important part of her life. Perhaps that is because she was an important part of ours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visiting grandma and grandpa was always fun. It wasn't that they took us to exciting places, but there was a magical element to their house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, their house always smelled like toasted english muffins...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma's parakeetes could ALWAYS talk.. pretty bird.. (We've had parakeets for years and they haven't said a thing! (except maybe "get me outta here! in tweet")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to all of my cousins...remember the frogs in Grandma and Grandpa's yard? Where did they come from? Have you ever seen that anywhere else? I never have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma's cooking was magical too. I would be happy to live on her leg of lamb, mint jelly, gravy, roasted potatoes, and shrimp and egg salad every day for the rest of my life. Honestly...it's what dreams are made of!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracy and I had an ongoing "Grandma Loves me the Most Competition" Birthdays $5.00 - $100.00?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of competetivc:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grandma's little known "Dark side"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ever played Password with her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PASSWORD - based on old TV Game Show from the 60's and 70's &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The object is for one teammate to get the other teammate to say the password given a series of clues. Each time a clue is given, the other player can guess the password - if they get it right the team scores. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If they get it wrong, the other team gets to try a clue word. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Score is higher if you guess it on the first clue - &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As a clue-giver you can only say one word (non hyphenated) so you need to find the "definitive" clue. No sounds or charades allowed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grandma, Me - Team One "Lighthouse"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gran: Beacon&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Me: Breakfast meat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tracy &amp; David - Team Two "Dog"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;David: Cat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Trac: Dog! SCORE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Lighthouse - Gran: Ships&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Me: Trains&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;"Fan"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;David: Blow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Tracy: FAN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Granny starts getting agitated: not having fun "Lighthouse" Ocean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Me: Pacific&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;She taps card in exapseration&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;David "Drip"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Tracy "sweat!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;They get it again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Granny starts coughing...but it sounds like Fog Horn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;"Horn"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Me: "car"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;Arggggghh! She jumps up and says "I have to start dinner! You guys finish the game" Tracy and David "We Win! We Win!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;I was very fortunate to have my Grandmother in my life for 44 years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;I know that she is happy in heaven, and finally reuntied with Grandpa...and all I have to do is say "Hello my beautiful grandmother" and I can feel her with me any time I want to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-812507244489358072?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/812507244489358072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=812507244489358072' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/812507244489358072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/812507244489358072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2007/06/grandma-may-21-1919-june-3-2007.html' title='Grandma May 21, 1919 - June 3, 2007'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-6110406316291428760</id><published>2007-01-12T12:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T13:04:22.921-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 12, 2007 ~ Mother-in-love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;On Thanksgiving I walked around a bend and saw her sitting on the floor in our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;living room&lt;/span&gt; talking to the kids. Not an uncommon sight, really, especially after being apart for a few months. (Due only to a distance of a 7 hour drive.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;She looked up and smiled her usual warm greeting at me....and in that moment I saw something that made me think this might be her last Thanksgiving with us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;It scared me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; even told hubby, because how can I say something like that about his mother? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;She is the hub of the family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;The one who always knows the answers, even if you don't want to hear them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;But as the days and weeks passed after Thanksgiving, it became apparent that something was, in fact, wrong. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;At first she thought it was anxiety attacks. They run in the family....but usually they don't begin at age 72.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;And then she thought it might be the flu. Nausea....headaches.....weakness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;But the weakness became more focused towards her right side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Could this be a stroke? Vertigo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;She couldn't lift her right leg, or hold her fork, or see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;peripherally&lt;/span&gt; out of her right eye...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;This woman who has spent her life teaching and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;practicing&lt;/span&gt; the importance of remaining active and eating right, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;This woman who easily walks two miles per day,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;This woman who tap dances and performs with other women at local senior centers,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;This woman who has survived breast cancer....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;twice....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;This woman who I've watched jump on a trampoline as if she were 20, not 70....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;What was happening?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;A brain tumor, malignant, size of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;golf ball&lt;/span&gt; with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tentacles&lt;/span&gt; that have spread, Grade 3, inoperable, 2-5 years....maybe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;So she will be treated at Stanford....hopefully.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;And they often work miracles....hopefully.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;But her spirit is broken, her strength has vanished, her fears have overwhelmed her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Can she fight? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;She has never not fought before. She has never questioned her ability to fight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I pray she can. I can't lose her. Not yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;But I don't want her to fight a battle that can't be won. So I pray that this battle can be won, or at least that it can be fought successfully,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;extending life,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;good life,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;whole life...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Not extending suffering...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;She knows how much she is loved...by me....and by everyone....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;even so&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;she can't possibly, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;really, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;know how much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;There are no words for that much...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-6110406316291428760?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6110406316291428760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=6110406316291428760' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/6110406316291428760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/6110406316291428760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2007/01/january-12-2007-mother-in-love.html' title='January 12, 2007 ~ Mother-in-love'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-116235092253086065</id><published>2006-10-31T19:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:40.677-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 31st ~ Free Hugs</title><content type='html'>Have you seen this?  It is soooo worth the 3:30 minutes it takes to watch it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VERY moving....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing like the spreading of peace....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please watch:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vr3x_RRJdd4&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-116235092253086065?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116235092253086065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=116235092253086065' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/116235092253086065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/116235092253086065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/october-31st-free-hugs.html' title='October 31st ~ Free Hugs'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-116162621732539548</id><published>2006-10-23T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:40.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 23rd ~ The Gospel of Transformation</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Have you heard this song?  If I knew how to put songs on my blog...you could listen to it...but I don't.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am moved by lyrics and music....always have been.....and this one is singing to the deepest core of my being....I feel like living life with arms wide open... &lt;br /&gt;going forward fearlessly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NATASHA BEDINGFIELD LYRICS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unwritten &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined&lt;br /&gt;I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staring at the blank page before you&lt;br /&gt;Open up the dirty window&lt;br /&gt;Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching for something in the distance&lt;br /&gt;So close you can almost taste it&lt;br /&gt;Release your inhibitions&lt;br /&gt;Feel the rain on your skin&lt;br /&gt;No one else can feel it for you&lt;br /&gt;Only you can let it in&lt;br /&gt;No one else, no one else&lt;br /&gt;Can speak the words on your lips&lt;br /&gt;Drench yourself in words unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Live your life with arms wide open&lt;br /&gt;Today is where your book begins&lt;br /&gt;The rest is still unwritten&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines&lt;br /&gt;We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staring at the blank page before you&lt;br /&gt;Open up the dirty window&lt;br /&gt;Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching for something in the distance&lt;br /&gt;So close you can almost taste it&lt;br /&gt;Release your inhibitions&lt;br /&gt;Feel the rain on your skin&lt;br /&gt;No one else can feel it for you&lt;br /&gt;Only you can let it in&lt;br /&gt;No one else, no one else&lt;br /&gt;Can speak the words on your lips&lt;br /&gt;Drench yourself in words unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Live your life with arms wide open&lt;br /&gt;Today is where your book begins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel the rain on your skin&lt;br /&gt;No one else can feel it for you&lt;br /&gt;Only you can let it in&lt;br /&gt;No one else, no one else&lt;br /&gt;Can speak the words on your lips&lt;br /&gt;Drench yourself in words unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Live your life with arms wide open&lt;br /&gt;Today is where your book begins&lt;br /&gt;The rest is still unwritten&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staring at the blank page before you&lt;br /&gt;Open up the dirty window&lt;br /&gt;Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching for something in the distance&lt;br /&gt;So close you can almost taste it&lt;br /&gt;Release your inhibitions&lt;br /&gt;Feel the rain on your skin&lt;br /&gt;No one else can feel it for you&lt;br /&gt;Only you can let it in&lt;br /&gt;No one else, no one else&lt;br /&gt;Can speak the words on your lips&lt;br /&gt;Drench yourself in words unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Live your life with arms wide open&lt;br /&gt;Today is where your book begins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel the rain on your skin&lt;br /&gt;No one else can feel it for you&lt;br /&gt;Only you can let it in&lt;br /&gt;No one else, no one else&lt;br /&gt;Can speak the words on your lips&lt;br /&gt;Drench yourself in words unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Live your life with arms wide open&lt;br /&gt;Today is where your book begins&lt;br /&gt;The rest is still unwritten&lt;br /&gt;The rest is still unwritten&lt;br /&gt;The rest is still unwritten&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yeah, yeah&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-116162621732539548?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116162621732539548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=116162621732539548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/116162621732539548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/116162621732539548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/october-23rd-gospel-of-transformation.html' title='October 23rd ~ The Gospel of Transformation'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-116110456992215577</id><published>2006-10-17T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:40.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 17th ~ You'll be hooked LOL</title><content type='html'>Sometimes you just need to kick back, hang out....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(g)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dedge.com/flash/hangman" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.dedge.com/media/halloween120x60.jpg" alt="Halloween Hangman created by The Dimension's Edge, Inc." width="120" height="60" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-116110456992215577?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116110456992215577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=116110456992215577' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/116110456992215577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/116110456992215577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/october-17th-youll-be-hooked-lol.html' title='October 17th ~ You&apos;ll be hooked LOL'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-116023059676023751</id><published>2006-10-07T07:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:40.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 7th ~ 20 outta 20</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;My 12 yr old son came home from school yesterday so excited that he scored 20 out of 20 on his essay.  I thought I'd post it here because I loved it!  He's so funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Bugs Got Your Tongue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            When I was in the 2nd grade my mom bought me a joke book, and my brother seemed particularly interested in it. The prank that he felt was the funniest was one where you use rubber ice cubes with fake bugs in them and put them in someone’s drink as a joke.  Unfortunately, we didn’t have any rubber ice cubes. Or fake bugs.  That didn’t stop my brother!&lt;br /&gt;I saw him outside later that day collecting bugs. I didn’t know why. I figured he was just playing around in the dirt so I just kept playing outside as though I had seen nothing.&lt;br /&gt;At least an hour passed before I figured out what he was doing.&lt;br /&gt;“Hey Mom, you want a Diet Coke?” I heard him ask my mom.&lt;br /&gt;“Really?” she said, sounding quite surprised that he was offering to bring her a drink.&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, I’ll even put it in a glass with ice!”&lt;br /&gt; “Okay! Thanks, honey!” she said to him.&lt;br /&gt;My mom was folding laundry and watching a movie when my brother brought her the Diet Coke.  He brought it to her in a big wine glass.&lt;br /&gt;“Thank you, sweetie,” she said and then took a sip of the drink.&lt;br /&gt;“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” she screamed! There were earwigs in her mouth and on her tongue. He had done what most people wouldn’t imagine doing.  He thought he was going to play a funny prank on our mom, so he’d gathered the bugs and put them in ice cube trays with water and placed them in the freezer. Unfortunately, being that he was only about 8 years old, he didn’t realize how long it takes for ice to actually freeze solid.  He waited until the cubes looked frozen, but as soon as the ice cubes hit the diet coke they began melting.  There was only a thin layer that was actually frozen.&lt;br /&gt;He felt really bad!  He didn’t notice that the bugs were alive and swimming in the drink rather than looking creepy in an ice cube like he saw in the book!&lt;br /&gt;My mom was not happy. (Although she thought it was funny later after she forgot about the feeling of bugs’ feet on her tongue.)&lt;br /&gt;She made him go on his bed for an hour and gave him an hour-long lecture. She was madder than we had ever seen her. Can you blame her?&lt;br /&gt;Her friends were amazed (she told all of them). (In fact, she still tells people about it.)&lt;br /&gt;We all still bug her (even Dad) by asking her, “Do you want a Diet Coke?”  Even though I never actually did anything, I still enjoy bugging her. (“Bugging”, get it? Ha! Ha!)To this day my Mom always gets herself her own drinks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-116023059676023751?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/116023059676023751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=116023059676023751' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/116023059676023751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/116023059676023751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/october-7th-20-outta-20.html' title='October 7th ~ 20 outta 20'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-115982988825670933</id><published>2006-10-02T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:40.322-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 2, 2006 ~ Sunset/Sunrise</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/IMG_1055.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/400/IMG_1055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;The thing about a sunset...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;is that it's always followed by a sunrise...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;On a one day trip to Monterey this past July...on the hottest day of the year...during the longest stretch of a heat wave we've ever had...it occured to me that my children had never seen a sunset over the horizon. Sure, they'd seen it over the roof of the house across the street....or setting between rolling hills on a car trip....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;but seeing the sunset at the ocean is completely different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;You can feel the roundness of our earth, the smallness of our world, and the vastness of life continuing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;As the sun says goodnight to us.....there is something good in knowing that it is saying good morning to those just around the bend of our shared world... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;And, hopefully, the gentle rose colors of sunset and sunrise will bring peace... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;At least some...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;And it will be a start.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-115982988825670933?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/115982988825670933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=115982988825670933' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/115982988825670933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/115982988825670933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/10/october-2-2006-sunsetsunrise.html' title='October 2, 2006 ~ Sunset/Sunrise'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114607892932979002</id><published>2006-04-26T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:40.239-08:00</updated><title type='text'>April 26th ~ I should blog but..</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#333399;"&gt; I should blog, but I'm stuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I can't explain my stuckenness....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I just have to get past it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Ever just feel stuck in life ...or in a moment.....or a mood?  I thought I'd blog my way through....but can't seem to form a sentence that explains anything.  So much for being self-evolved. lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114607892932979002?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114607892932979002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114607892932979002' title='30 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114607892932979002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114607892932979002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/april-26th-i-should-blog-but.html' title='April 26th ~ I should blog but..'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>30</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114540220658624614</id><published>2006-04-18T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:40.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>April 18th ~ Here's Gracie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/Img_0602sized.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_0602sized.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/Gracies1stDaysized.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Gracies1stDaysized.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/HomefromSchoolherespuppysized.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/HomefromSchoolherespuppysized.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;Here's Gracie...our new pound puppy. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;She's about 8 months old..a cross between a german wire-hair pointer and some small dog like maybe a basset hound.  She'll get up to about 40 pounds.  So cute....so sweet....playful....loving....and has cost us about 500.00 so far (in this first week) between adoption fees and vet appointments due to various issues.    I think she's ok now.....LET US PRAY!  :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'm behind in blogging (both posting and reading) ...but I'll catch up this week.  I hope all of you, my blogland pals,  are doing well...I miss reading about your lives...but I'm thinkin aboutcha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114540220658624614?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114540220658624614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114540220658624614' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114540220658624614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114540220658624614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/april-18th-heres-gracie.html' title='April 18th ~ Here&apos;s Gracie'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114433252265655487</id><published>2006-04-06T06:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:40.061-08:00</updated><title type='text'>April 6th ~ Am I nuckin futs?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;We got a dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Our dog of 17 years passed away about a year and a half ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;We've talked casually now and then about getting another. I'd walk through the animal shelter once every few months...but I wasn't really sold on getting a dog again. Hubby DEFINITELY wasn't sold on the idea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;But last weekend I found one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;She's an 11 month old brown mutt.....looks like a Schnauzer/Terrier/Pointer mix. She's about 20 pounds, brown, adorable yet sorta homely (hard to explain), and in need of a bath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;The shelter people said she passed the behavior tests with flying colors. They could take food out of her mouth and tug on her while she was eating etc...and she remained sweet and docile. The kids met her Tuesday night. Two of the three LOVED her. My oldest was more ambivalent about the whole idea of getting a dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;We were number 2 on the list to adopt her yesterday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Family number 1 never showed up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I felt sudden panic. Oh my God....am I doing the right thing? Do we want a dog? Except underneath all of that..I still felt like if we were going to get a dog....this one would be right for our family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;So I picked up the kids from school.....called hubby to see if he could meet us at the shelter (he hadn't met the dog yet) and held my breath. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;The kids and I were on the lawn outside of the shelter with the dog when hubby drove up. He took one look at all of us and the dog, and I could tell he was partially won over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;The dog had been playing in that pouncing puppy kind of way with me and the kids....but when hubby walked over her whole demeanor changed. She sat down and started thumping her tail against the ground and looked at him with her ears perked up.....so sweetly! When he offered her his hand to sniff.....she licked it in a very ladylike fashion....and sat on his feet like, "I'm the best, most obedient, docile, dog in the world! Pick me! Pick me!" lol It was so funny. She completely won hubby over. He walked her around and she walked right next to him. With the rest of us she was bouncing around tugging at the leash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Back inside I filled out the paperwork....and wrote the check (jeeeeeeeez it's expensive to adopt a dog) and she sat with hubby next to my chair licking me now and then. Our daughter climbed on my lap while I was writing....so then the dog thought she could too. lol &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;We can't pick her up until next week after she's "fixed"....so we'll be visiting her in the Big House until then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I woke up this morning in a panic. Do I even want a dog?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;:) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114433252265655487?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114433252265655487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114433252265655487' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114433252265655487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114433252265655487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/april-6th-am-i-nuckin-futs.html' title='April 6th ~ Am I nuckin futs?'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114391483197778612</id><published>2006-04-01T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.968-08:00</updated><title type='text'>April 1st ~ An April Fool</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I have been a bit blog blocked lately, but I was thinking in honor of April 1st: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;What is your most embarrassing moment?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Here is mine:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;When hubby and I were first married (16+ years ago) we had some close friends and their baby move in with us for about a week. They were having their hardwood floors refinished and needed a fume-free place to stay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Now, I pride myself on being a gracious hostess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;But my 24/7 hostess gene has an expiration date.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;4 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I'm a great hostess for 4 days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;After that....my abilities curdle like old milk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;It's not that I become rude.....it's just that I'm no longer enjoying it in quite the same way...and I don't feel as eager to make sure everyone is having a great time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;SO anyway, our friends and their baby moved in for a week. We had a blast, great meals, fun conversations, cute baby experiences (we didn't have our own munchkins yet), shared laughter, etc etc etc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;for 4 days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;On day 5 I woke up missing my privacy, missing alone time with hubby, missing feeling "kidless" and free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I'd babysat our friend's baby a few times while they stayed with us.....like any good 4-Day hostess would. On the morning of Day 5 ( a Saturday), they asked if I'd take care of her again for a few hours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Of course, I agreed....because I don't know how to say no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;But within 15 seconds...I was regretting it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Now please.....know this.....I'm an honest person. I have tons of integrity...I don't lie....but I was desperate. Not that its an excuse, mind you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;"I just need to call my office to make sure they don't need me. I'm on call."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;(lie lie lie)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;So I went into my bedroom.........picked up the phone.....faked a phone call to the office.......said loudly, "Oh! Ok...I'll be there in an hour! I understand." And I knew that our friends properly overheard me.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;except I made one mistake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;As I was "talking" on the phone I made the mistake of leaving my finger on the "hang up" button.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;And the phone rang.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Loudly!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Right in the middle of my lying fake conversation!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I was never so embarrassed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;"WOW! That was weird! I've never had the phone ring while I'm talking before! Hello? Hello?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;They knew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;But they were kind enough not to humiliate me further.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Maybe they noticed my expiration date and had pity on me. I'm still hot with embarrassment over it all these years later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Anyone wanna come over for 4 days?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114391483197778612?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114391483197778612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114391483197778612' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114391483197778612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114391483197778612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/04/april-1st-april-fool.html' title='April 1st ~ An April Fool'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114331099205361287</id><published>2006-03-25T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March 25th ~ Sweet Savory Tart</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;By the title of this post, you thought I was going to write about some trampy woman I know, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrong! Fooled ya! It's Recipe Saturday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;STB's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://sttropezbutlersays.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://sttropezbutlersays.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;yummy salad recipe put me in the mood for that style of posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is more of an appetizer (I can't spell Hors Douerves....see?) but it is spectacular! LisRay will vouch for it, if she reads this, right LisRay??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ripe Pear and Crisp Apple with Bleu Cheese Topping&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;(EASY!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A  couple of hours before the guests arrive (or the night before): In a bowl lightly toss together:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4oz crumbled bleu cheese &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;(I use the larger plastic tub size...I'm guessing on the oz..it might be a bit more or less.) (More is good..err on the side of more)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(These next 4 ingredients I mix together with a fork and then toss them into the blue cheese above.) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup red wine vinegar&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup dried parsley flakes (You can use fresh parsley...but for some reason dried turns out better.)&lt;br /&gt;3 cloves of garlic crushed or finely chopped&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cover bowl and let ingredients marry for an hour or two in the fridge. (You can make this the night before if you wish.  Wait...I already said that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before your guests arrive take:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 ripe fresh pears - cut in half, remove seeds and slice with skin on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Granny Smith apples (or other tart apples) - cut in half, remove seeds and slice with skin on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Think "&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;thick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; potato chips" when you are slicing them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drizzle fruit with a &lt;em&gt;LITTLE&lt;/em&gt; orange or lemon juice to prevent browning, arrange slices on a platter leaving room in the center for the cheese mixture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When ready to serve, gently re-toss cheese with a fork, drain off excess liquid (only if it is excessive...it probably won't be), and place cheese mixture directly on the platter in the middle of the sliced fruit. Eat the fruit with a little scoop of the cheese on it. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;You'll love me for this recipe. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114331099205361287?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114331099205361287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114331099205361287' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114331099205361287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114331099205361287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/march-25th-sweet-savory-tart.html' title='March 25th ~ Sweet Savory Tart'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114313460280322825</id><published>2006-03-23T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.721-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March 23rd ~ Touched by and angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Read Sher's post of March 22nd..called Locks of Love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;I'm moved to tears.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://tiom.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://tiom.blogspot.com/&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114313460280322825?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114313460280322825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114313460280322825' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114313460280322825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114313460280322825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/march-23rd-touched-by-and-angel.html' title='March 23rd ~ Touched by and angel'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114295409223374505</id><published>2006-03-21T06:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March 21st ~ Biker chick</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/Hot%20bike%20chick%20copy.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Hot%20bike%20chick%20copy.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#006600;"&gt;I wish this was my ass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Who wouldn't?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;But it does lead me to a story...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So, on Sunday, hubby and our kids did a "move your body" intervention on me. I'd been under the weather for a LONGGGGGGG time, and they knew that I was stressed because I hadn't been swimming in about 3 weeks. They talked me into going on a bike ride with them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;That sounds fun and easy right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;It would be for most people, I think. However, I have very screwed up knees (a congenital defect), so riding a bike is something that I don't do often. Ok, its been a few years. Like 5 or 10. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Hubby nicely spent time making sure that my rarely ridden bike was safe and ready to go, but something had happened since the last time I sat on it: I think I shrunk. (In height, doh!) It's a man's 10-speed street bicycle .....and when I stepped over the bar....I discovered that it was jammed way up my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;you-know-what....(Hmm ....if I could of installed batteries, I guess it would have been fine....but anyway...) this was not comfy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;If I had better balance, was in better shape, or was more coordinated, I could have probably just stepped on the pedals, and lifted myself onto the bicycle seat..and ridden along my merry way. However, that isn't my reality. I'm a bicycle &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;spazz-oid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Hubby nicely suggested trading bikes with me. His is a sturdier moutain bike, without a high middle bar. A MUCH better solution. Except I still couldn't remember how to ride a bike.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;The boys were so excited that I was going with them...that they kept riding close to me. Arghhhhh! I couldn't tell them to ride farther away....but everytime they got near me I panicked that I was going to crash. I did a few times. (Ran off the trail onto a lawn or into a tree.... la la la)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We decided to stop at the local grocery store for a couple of things. The kids played while hubby went into the store and I babysat the bikes. I didn't get off the bike. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Remember that fact...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I DIDN'T get off the bike. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So hubby comes out of the store with the groceries and gets back onto his bike and takes off towards home with the kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I try to turn around and follow them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Suddenly I can't seem to figure out how to ride the bike. I slip off the seat, but keep the bike between my legs....and everything feels weird. I am wedged weirdly between the seat and the handlebars.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So, I try to get back onto the seat...but now the front point of the seat is jammed uncomfortably up my ass.....which seems impossible...and yet it was happening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;SO with my bicycle-seat-horribly-wedged-ass facing the shoppers leaving the grocery store, I try to start pedaling. Everything feels wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I make it around the corner of the store and see hubby and the kids......and suddenly realize that I can't find the hand breaks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;They seem to be in the wrong place. I can't stop.....I don't know how to stop. How do I get off? Arrrrrgh......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So I yelp, "HELP!" to hubby, who turns around and sees me in a panic......and tries as hard as he can not to start laughing as he rides over trying to assist me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I realize, finally, that I somehow have the front wheel and steering wheel turned backwards...but there isn't room to just jump off.....due to the way I wedged myself onto the bike seat....and I can't make the breaks work because they are not where my hands can grasp them in my panicked state of mind!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So I crashed into the brick wall side of the grocery store to stop myself. Hubby rode up, biting back grins, and helped me turn everything back the right way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We all made it home safely. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Swimming suddenly holds MUCH more appeal than ever before. (BTW, the corned beef and cabbage St. Patrick's Day Party last Friday night was a success. We had a great time! :) )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114295409223374505?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114295409223374505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114295409223374505' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114295409223374505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114295409223374505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/march-21st-biker-chick.html' title='March 21st ~ Biker chick'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114244290140909367</id><published>2006-03-15T08:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.569-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/eringobraless.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/eringobraless.jpg" border="0" /&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;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I was thinking of titling this post "Erin Go Braless"....and then got the bright idea of looking that up on the web! lol Voi La! Damn! Once again my originality has been usurped!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;So, anyway. I'm a crazy Irish person. Ok, perhaps my Irish blood isn't pure, but my great grandparents were born in Ireland, so I'm "of the body", so to speak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;The craziness comes into play when I decided to have a St. Patrick's Day dinner party this year. On Friday. THIS Friday. 2 DAYS from NOW!  I've known this was coming. I've been looking forward to it. But I've been under the weather for 25 days now! Arghhhh! Oh well. I'm better than I was. I should be fine by Friday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;SO I'm trying to figure how to make Corned Beef for 22 people. If you've ever made corned beef, you KNOW how much they shrink when cooking! lol Half of those people are kids, so I'll have to have an alternative food source for some of them. It'll be something mindless and easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;And my house looks like a tornado went through it! I'm not the world's best housekeeper, but I'm obsessive/compulsive about anyone seeing that flaw....so somehow by Friday order will be restored. I'd just rather blog than clean. Go figure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;And we don't normally eat meat on Friday's during Lent...but I decided since St. Patrick's Day is in honor of a Saint....what the hell...we're covered under the "Saint's Exception Rule" that I made up! lol Unfortunately, hubby and I are the only ones who enjoy Guinness....so we'll have wine too (even though that's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;anti-Irish on St. Paddy's Day). I'm thinking white. I know, red goes with beef, BUT, corned beef and cabbage just doesn't seem like a red wine meal to me. Any opinions?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I dream of going to Ireland. I have to make that a reality. SOON.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114244290140909367?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114244290140909367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114244290140909367' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114244290140909367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114244290140909367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-was-thinking-of-titling-this-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114227154427568290</id><published>2006-03-13T09:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March 13th ~ Peace on Earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/ATT1.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/ATT1.2.jpg" border="0" /&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;"The Statue of Liberty is no longer saying "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses." She's got a baseball bat and she's yelling, 'You want a piece of me?' " Robin Williams (Supposedly his T-shirt says "I love New York" in Arabic.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114227154427568290?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114227154427568290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114227154427568290' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114227154427568290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114227154427568290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/march-13th-peace-on-earth.html' title='March 13th ~ Peace on Earth'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114213002320184460</id><published>2006-03-11T18:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.394-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March 11th ~ My eye for a Mai Tai</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;For recipe Saturday I thought my all time favorite to die for cocktail would be nice. (Hopefully I haven't already posted this! lol)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;1 Tall glass with ice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;1 big shot glass of dark rum (or dark rum to taste...if you're scared)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;a nice splash of Grenadine (to taste)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;1/2 C pineapple/orange juice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;1/4 C straight orange juice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Drizzle Bacardi 151 over the top of the drink.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Garnish with a cherry and slice of orange &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Enjoy (You'll love me for this one.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114213002320184460?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114213002320184460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114213002320184460' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114213002320184460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114213002320184460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/march-11th-my-eye-for-mai-tai.html' title='March 11th ~ My eye for a Mai Tai'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114191621052394240</id><published>2006-03-09T06:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.319-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March 9th ~ Idol fluff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Ok....there are too many huge world issues and family issues swirling in my mind.....so in an effort to think calm thoughts....can we discuss American Idol? It's not that I'm shallow......just enjoying an air pocket for a moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;First of all....of the men: Taylor Hicks is #1. I thought I had the hots for Ace for a moment.....but now he seems to be playing it up to the camera and it comes off as insincere to me. Taylor on the other hand is a doll.....and a riot.....and I LOVE his jerky, odd, dance moves. They just make me happy. I love his grey hair. The guy is OBVIOUSLY having a blast. And Bucky....he is very "real".....unusual.....but real and true to himself. Good voice. And then the bald guy....I love his voice....but he doesn't get under my skin. (Thus I can't remember his name.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;As to the girls: I hope Simon stops messing with the little blonde Kellie Pickler. Simon calling her a "Naughty little minx" just seemed inappropriate. She's too innocent and sweet and untarnished to be played with in that way. (Now had Simon called ME that.....well.....that'd be a whole different thing! lol) I'm also a fan of Katherine McPhee (the tall brunette with the mom as a vocal coach), Mandisa the classy, beautiful larger woman with a stunning voice (my daughter says "Mommy she looks cuddly like you!" lol), and Lisa Tucker, the 16 year old with such poise, presence, and the voice of an angel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Anyway, I know this was fluff......but I needed a bit of fluff today. Have a wonderful day every0ne.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114191621052394240?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114191621052394240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114191621052394240' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114191621052394240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114191621052394240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/march-9th-idol-fluff.html' title='March 9th ~ Idol fluff'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114184236034636157</id><published>2006-03-08T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.241-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March 8th ~ Changes in choice</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Along with the rest of our country, I've been watching the happenings in South Dakota regarding abortion with great interest. This topic is so heated and so important to people on both sides of the arguement, that I've been having a hard time trying to articulate my own feelings on the subject. This is such a deeply personal issue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;This morning I read the blog post of my friend Gina on this topic....and felt like she somehow put words to my thoughts. I couldn't have expressed it better. She is a wonderful writer. If you'd like to read her post, go to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://findingmygroove.blog-city.com/"&gt;http://findingmygroove.blog-city.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114184236034636157?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114184236034636157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114184236034636157' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114184236034636157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114184236034636157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/march-8th-changes-in-choice.html' title='March 8th ~ Changes in choice'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114174883366927119</id><published>2006-03-07T08:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.171-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March 7th ~ Awww :(  Superwoman</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/20050809102409990009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/400/20050809102409990009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dana Reeve &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1961 - 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114174883366927119?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114174883366927119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114174883366927119' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114174883366927119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114174883366927119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/march-7th-awww-superwoman.html' title='March 7th ~ Awww :(  Superwoman'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114149990514575012</id><published>2006-03-04T11:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.095-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March 4th ~ Cornflake Chicken</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In honor of "Recipe Saturday" here is one of my favorites. It's healthy, EASY, SO delicious, and I was able to calculate it into Weight Watchers points!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cornflake Chicken&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 chicken thighs (boneless/skinless) (It works with breasts too)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1/2 cup yogurt (fat free plain)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1/4 tsp each, salt and pepper &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pinch cayenne (or to taste)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1 1/2 cups crushed corn flakes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1/4 C freshly grated parmesan cheese &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In one dish mix yogurt ,thyme, salt, pepper and cayenne. In another mix corn flakes and cheese. Spread out the chicken thigh and dip in yogurt mixture and then roll in the corn flake mixture. Spray bottom of baking pan with PAM.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bake for 45 minutes at 350 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6 Weight Watchers points per thigh&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114149990514575012?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114149990514575012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114149990514575012' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114149990514575012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114149990514575012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/03/march-4th-cornflake-chicken.html' title='March 4th ~ Cornflake Chicken'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114111352645318462</id><published>2006-02-27T23:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:39.002-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 27th ~ Grace Kelly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;(Hey...a cheesey quiz....but it's a cute one....so indulge me. :) )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;Which Movie Star Are You?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;Ever wonder which movie star you are most like? Don't read ahead&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;please! A team of researchers got together and analyzed the personalitiesof movie stars. The gathered info has been incorporated into this quiz. There are only 10 questions. Answer each question with the choice that most describes you at this point in your life, and then add up the points that correspond with your answers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;Don't look ahead or you will ruin the fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;1. Which describes your perfect date?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;a) Candlelight dinner for two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;b) Amusement Park&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;c) Rollerblading in the park&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;d) Rock Concert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;e) Have dinner &amp;amp; see a movie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;f) Dinner at home with a loved one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2. What is your favorite type of music?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;a) Rock and Roll&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;b) Alternative&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;c) Soft Rock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;d) Classical&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;e) Christian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;f) Jazz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;3. What is your favorite type of movie?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;a) Comedy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;b) Horror&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;c) Musical&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;d) Romance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;e) Documentary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;f) Mystery&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;4. Which of the following jobs would you choose if you were given onlythesechoices?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;a) Waiter/Waitress&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;b) Sports Player&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;c) Teacher&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;d) Policeman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;e) Bartender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;f) Business person&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;5. Which would you rather do if you had an hour to waste?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;a) Work out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;b) Make out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;c) Watch TV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;d) Listen to the radio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;e) Sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;f) Read&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;6. Of the following colors, which do you like best?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;a) Yellow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;b) White&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;c) Sky blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;d) Teal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;e) Gold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;f) Red&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;7. Which one of the following would you like to eat right now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;a) Ice cream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;b) Pizza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;c) Sushi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;d) Pasta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;e) Salad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;f) Lobster Tail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;8. Which is your favorite holiday?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;a) Halloween&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;b) Christmas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;c) New Year's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;d) Valentine's Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;e) Thanksgiving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;f) Fourth of July&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;9. If you could go to any of the following places, which would it be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;a) Reno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;b) Spain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;c) Las Vegas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;d) Hawaii&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;e) Hollywood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;f) British Columbia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;10. Of the following, who would you rather spend time with?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;a) Someone who is smart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;b) Someone with good looks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;c) Someone who is a party animal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;d) Someone who has fun all the time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;e) Someone who is very emotional&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;f) Someone who is fun to be with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;Now total up your points on each question:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;1. a-4 b-2 c-5 d-1 e-3 f-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2. a-2 b-1 c-4 d-5 e-3 f-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;3. a-2 b-1 c-3 d-4 e-5 f-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;4. a-4 b-5 c-3 d-2 e-1 f-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;5. a-5 b-4 c-2 d-1 e-3 f-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;6. a-1 b-5 c-3 d-2 e-4 f-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;7. a-3 b-2 c-1 d-4 e-5 f-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;8. a-1 b-3 c-2 d-4 e-5 f-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;9. a-4 b-5 c-1 d-4 e-3 f-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;10. a-5 b-2 c-1 d-3 e-4 f-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;NOW, take your total and find out which Movie Star you are:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;(10-17 points) You are MADONNA:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;You are wild and crazy and you know it. You know how to have fun, but you may take it to extremes. You know what you are doing though, and are much in control of your own life. People don't always see things your way, but that doesn't mean that you should do away with your beliefs. Try to remember that your wild spirit can lead to hurting yourself and others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;(18-26 points) You are DORIS DAY:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;You are fun, friendly, and popular! You are a real crowd pleaser. You have probably been out on the town your share of times, yet you come home with the values that your mother taught you. Marriage and children are very important to you, but only after you have fun. Don't let the people you please influence you to stray.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;(27-34 points) You are DEBBIE REYNOLDS:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;You are cute, and everyone loves you. You are a best friend that no one takes the chance of losing. You never hurt feelings and seldom have your own feelings hurt. Life is a breeze. You are witty, and calm most of the time. Just keep clear of back stabbers, and you are worry-free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;(35-42 points) You are GRACE KELLY:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;You are a lover. Romance, flowers, and wine are all you need to enjoy yourself. You are serious about all commitments and are a family person. You call your Mom every Sunday, and never forget a Birthday. Don't let your passion for romance get confused with the real thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;(43-50 points) You are KATHERINE HEPBURN:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You are smart, a real thinker. Every situation is approached with a plan. You are very healthy in mind and body. You don't take crap from anyone. You have only a couple of individuals that you consider "real friends". You teach strong family values. Keep&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;your feet planted in them, but don't overlook a bad situation when it does happen.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(51-60 points) You are ELIZABETH TAYLOR: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everyone is in awe of you. You know what you want and how to get it. You have more friends than you know what to do with. Your word is your bond.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone knows when you say something it is money in the bank. You attract the opposite sex. Your intelligence overwhelms most. Your memory is the next thing to photographic. Everyone admires you because you are so considerate and lovable. You know how to enjoy life and treat people right. &lt;/strong&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/12769815-114111352645318462?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114111352645318462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114111352645318462' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114111352645318462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114111352645318462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-27th-grace-kelly.html' title='February 27th ~ Grace Kelly'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114108533968622021</id><published>2006-02-27T16:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:38.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 26th ~ Dominos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/dominos.6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/400/dominos.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;I'm third from the back...  Doh!   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114108533968622021?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114108533968622021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114108533968622021' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114108533968622021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114108533968622021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-26th-dominos.html' title='February 26th ~ Dominos'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114071297443833800</id><published>2006-02-23T08:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:38.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 23rd ~ Snow Falling on Egg Beaters</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;They've been planning it for a year. They took "Wilderness Survival" courses. They've packed. We've paid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2 nights of snow camping and learning to ski.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;It was to be my middle son's first time doing this..and the 2nd time for Mr. Teen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;Monday Mr Teen came down with 104.8 temp. To the Doc we went. The flu he has. Begged for anit-viral meds since we caught it so quickly. This morning his fever is finally down... There is hope that he'll be able to go tomorrow. And before I blinked my eyes with relief ~ my middle son woke with a high fever.... He's in tears. I'm in tears. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;There will be other weekends, but sheeeeeeesh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114071297443833800?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114071297443833800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114071297443833800' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114071297443833800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114071297443833800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-23rd-snow-falling-on-egg.html' title='February 23rd ~ Snow Falling on Egg Beaters'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114067384993102122</id><published>2006-02-22T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:38.745-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 22nd ~ Do that to me one more time</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I would so do Ace Young from American Idol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Alas, hubby said no. lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114067384993102122?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114067384993102122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114067384993102122' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114067384993102122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114067384993102122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-22nd-do-that-to-me-one-more.html' title='February 22nd ~ Do that to me one more time'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114053571607781424</id><published>2006-02-21T06:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:38.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 21st ~ Her slumps her slumps have transformed into humps</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Like the title of this post? lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(Side note: Why can't the Black Eyed Peas write something my 7 year old daughter can sing to without causing me to go gray? Just wondering... lol)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Anyway....so....I was in a slump for quite some time. It was a combination of things, some I've written about, some I haven't. But it has been rough. And I felt as though the whole world could tell....could see on my face....that I was strung out and not my normal self. What happened to Happy Trudy? Where did the relaxed, cheerful me go? Was this menopause? Was I just becoming old and cranky? Had I morphed into Witchy Woman, or what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I kept asking hubby, but he said he hadn't noticed. (I think that was his survival instinct kicking in.) The kids were always asking me, "What's wrong, Mom?" so I KNEW they were picking up on it. Finally, I asked a couple of close friends. One had noticed the change for about a year (which was startling...but reassuring in an odd way). And the other noticed it in a lesser way, but probably a more significant one. She commented that when she used to see me driving by with the kids, I appeared serene and queen-like, with a small smile always on my face.....and she'd noticed that I'd lost that expression.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Well sheeeeeeesh....that was it! I'd lost my inner queen, dammit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I decided that the first thing I needed to do was to make a real commitment to myself to health and fitness. That was my "Today" post of a couple weeks ago, and I'm still reading it to myself daily and sticking to it as best I can. And then I decided I needed a "pick-me-up" starting with my hair (that I'd begun to hate).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I've never colored or highlighted my hair before...but I decided I needed to throw caution to the wind....put myself in someone else's hands...and just go for it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I asked the haggard looking stylist to make me younger. (She looked like she needed a little pampering herself, so I panicked that I may have said the wrong thing.) She didn't have the liposuction equipment set up in the salon, dammit. What happened to the one-stop-shopping concept? Anyway, I digress. So she suggested a perm first. I'm thinking poodle....and she swears on the life of her ancestors that I will not look like a poodle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Wait....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Aren't her ancestors already dead? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Was that an empty promise? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;By the time I'd figured that out, I was covered in big purple rods and stinking like a chemical plant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;When she took them out, and I looked in the mirror....I was stressed. My hair had been very long...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(dead ends ....dry.....crappy looking...but long)...below my bra strap..and now it was only a couple of inches below my shoulder..and layered. Did my face look fat? What would happen when those curls dried? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;She was smiling like she'd created a masterpiece....and I was sweating with "What have I done?" stench.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I paid her and left a bigger tip than any rational person completely-in-love-with-their-hair would have, because I didn't want her to think I didn't like it. I was proving that I loved it. After making an appointment for a hair color the next week (because, yes Imma Whackjob), I got into the car and tried to think positively.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Miraculously, as my hair dried in the car, the curls were soft and flattering and I did look younger. (wipes brow in relief)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Are you wondering about the color/highlights? How can slumps turn into humps? That will have to be part two because the kids aren't dressed for school and I haven't made lunches....God, do I even have bread? What the heck am I on the computer?? arrrrrrgh Oh yeah...the rush of being behind. I forgot. (snort)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114053571607781424?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114053571607781424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114053571607781424' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114053571607781424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114053571607781424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-21st-her-slumps-her-slumps.html' title='February 21st ~ Her slumps her slumps have transformed into humps'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114033915006830355</id><published>2006-02-19T00:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:37.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 19th ~ Holy Moly!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;ok ~ Guess what? I was reading Ro's blog yesterday ...and oddly enough when I "commented" on it I discovered that I was the first to reply....which was fun since she gets hundreds. Anyway, so tonight (after finally getting the slumber-party-7-year-olds to sleep) I read her blog....and she mentioned my comment in the first line!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;How kewl is that? I feel like an audience member who ended up as a guest on her show! LOL :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The other comments she mentioned, were funny or moving or sad. I felt kinda honored to even be included.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hey, I'm easy. She likes me. :) lol (Let me have my illusions!)(Or should we call them delusions? ) :) and Psssssst Ro...thanks&lt;/strong&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/12769815-114033915006830355?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114033915006830355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114033915006830355' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114033915006830355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114033915006830355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-19th-holy-moly.html' title='February 19th ~ Holy Moly!'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-114013034249500650</id><published>2006-02-16T14:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:37.809-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 16th ~ Reasons</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I fell in love with you first because of your stupid jokes mixed with your obviously big heart and your integrity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along the way, I discovered that I could depend on you in ways that I didn't expect. You lift me up when I fall. You patch my heartaches with your tenderness. You hold tightly onto the reigns when I thrash about irrationally. You realign my planets...and instinctively know when they need realigning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I get jealous of your calm. Sometimes it pisses me off that you are rational. Sometimes I want to fight with you, because I want to know that I'm not the only crazy one...and that you can get crazed too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But mostly, I just feel loved by you. And so very lucky to have you. And the kids are lucky too....because imagine how warped they'd be if they only had me. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you , Dearly....and I'm sorry I'm such a pain in the ass sometimes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-114013034249500650?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/114013034249500650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=114013034249500650' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114013034249500650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/114013034249500650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-16th-reasons.html' title='February 16th ~ Reasons'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113966566042232528</id><published>2006-02-11T05:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:37.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 11 th ~  And Bunko was its name-o</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Have you ever played Bunko?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I live on one of those streets......probably like on Desperate Housewives....although I'm not sure because I've never seen that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;But it's a court of 16 houses. Varying age groups of people...including 21 children. We have a "mayor". Everyone knows everyone, watches out for each other's kids and grandkids, brings food to those with an illness, attend each other's births, weddings and funerals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;For hubby, it can sometimes be "too much neighborliness", but for me it's wonderful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The women on the street decided to start a "Bunko" group. They alternate houses and husbands/kids leave while the game is going. I'd never played before, but it's a dice game that require 12 players. Because I'm so busy, and feel stretched too thin, I decided to just be an alternate instead of a "player". Being a player is a monthly commitment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Last night was the first time I played.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I think I burned more calories playing that game than I would have if I'd run for 90 minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I lost my voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;You have to be loud when you get a Bunko. I think I may have been loud when Anyone got a Bunko. And I'd only had about a half a glass of wine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I got swept up in the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And I kept winning some other thing.....I forget what it was called...three of a kind that wasn't a Bunko...but I'd have to wear a necklace thing when I'd win that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;So I yelled out desperately: "I need a string of pearls!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'm not sure anyone else has as dirty of a mind as I do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113966566042232528?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113966566042232528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113966566042232528' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113966566042232528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113966566042232528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-11-th-and-bunko-was-its-name.html' title='February 11 th ~  And Bunko was its name-o'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113961379601375919</id><published>2006-02-10T15:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:37.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 10th ~ Hugs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/IMG_1057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/200/IMG_1057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today is day 4 or 5 of my "Today" commitment...and I'm still on the highway I want to be on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note to all: Hug each other. Call someone you should call. When/if stress overtakes you today, remember what you have and take a deep breath. Sometimes we just need to be present in the moment, silencing inner chaos, and breathing in the gifts that we have in our lives.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113961379601375919?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113961379601375919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113961379601375919' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113961379601375919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113961379601375919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-10th-hugs.html' title='February 10th ~ Hugs'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113954310754463505</id><published>2006-02-09T19:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:37.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 9th ~ Unforgettable</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Have you ever known someone whose smile makes everyone around them smile? Whose laughter is so engaging that it makes you laugh? Whose happiness is obvious and contagious?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;That describes my friend D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today she lost her battle with cancer. She leaves behind a husband who knew she lit the stars and two wonderful young children who have her face super-imposed on theirs, and her personality radiates from them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I can't imagine never seeing her again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;It wasn't that we were close friends, but we were more than acquaintances. There was warmth and shared humor between us every time we spoke.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Her family is large and close..thankfully. They will surround her husband and their children and tenderly wrap them up. As will all of their friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I feel close to her sister-in-law (the two of them grew up together and were closer than any two sisters).....and was at a complete loss today when I saw her. I hugged her and asked if she wanted to talk... she didn't. She couldn't. She was trying to hold it together...probably for her young daughter...but maybe also for herself. It's so hard to see someone's heart broken...and to not be able to do anything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I don't want advice on what I could have or should have done. There is no perfect answer in a situation like this. I know that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;But I still feel such a sense of grief and helplessness. It's awful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I keep putting myself in her shoes. And in the shoes of her children. And her husband. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I just want to blanket myself with my family and my friends and hold on to all of you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113954310754463505?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113954310754463505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113954310754463505' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113954310754463505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113954310754463505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-9th-unforgettable.html' title='February 9th ~ Unforgettable'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113923716813049882</id><published>2006-02-06T06:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:33.915-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 6th ~ Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today I will listen to my body&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I will not close my eyes when I stand on the scale.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today I will not wonder why I've been so oddly cranky for the past few weeks. I will listen to my inner voice and DO something about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today I will commit to exercising daily, even though I don't want to. I have to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today I will go to war with my self-control. And I will win.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today I will pay attention to the changes I must make. I will keep them in the front of my mind. I will not ignore them...or pretend to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today I will face the lonliness of making these changes. I will except that even with support, ultimately it is up to me. I will stand up to myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I will stand up for myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today is the day I change my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'm afraid. But today I will not let fear defeat me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today I will not be lazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today I will not hide from people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today I am writing this down so that when tomorrow is today, I can read it, and remember what I have to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Today I will tell my inner voices of temptation to go screw themselves. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'm in charge today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/12769815-113923716813049882?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113923716813049882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113923716813049882' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113923716813049882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113923716813049882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/february-6th-today.html' title='February 6th ~ Today'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113882615996778641</id><published>2006-02-01T10:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:33.839-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 31st ~ The Crookedest Road and the Hungriest Teen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/Img_0283resized.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/400/Img_0283resized.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;We had such a great time with our newly teenaged son in SF last weekend. :) It was really fun spending time with JUST him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;How often does a kid get the full attention of BOTH parents for an extended period of time?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We let him choose anything he wanted to do for the day. We went to a couple of museums first...one of which was the MOMA. (The first museum was fun but relatively uneventful.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He'd never been there before.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well......we all know that art is subjective, right? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And, you know what you are getting when you see Matisse or Picasso..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;However, a few of the other exhibits were....well......more adult oriented. lol &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;One in particular: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Peter Sarkisian's Dusted (installation view), 1998 Mixed media and video:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dusted uses a five-channel video projection to animate a white cube so that it appears to be a glass container entrapping two naked figures. There also appears to be a lint-like film on the glass cube you are looking through....and as the moving figures "inside" the cube brush body parts against the inside of the cube...the lint is cleared away making your view of them more clear. Like using your hand to wipe off a foggy mirror... The sound of voices whispering the names of men and women make you feel as though you are looking at something secret...something you aren't supposed to be walking in on... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ok...so the room with this piece was completely dark....except for the cube in the middle of the room. We walked into it completely unaware of what was in there. And although we could hear the whispering....you couldn't make out what they were saying very easily. You had to strain to understand the voices.... and in the same way...it was hard to know what was in the cube. At first it appeared to just be shadows....and shapes. As you looked though, the nude bodies could clearly be seen. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So.... realizing that this was likely making our son uncomfortable, and feeling equally that if I was in there alone or just with hubby, I'd probably have stayed and watched that cube for hours on end, I made a hasty exit, son following with a look of stunned surprise.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Well, THAT was interesting," he said in a baffled voice.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I laughed. "Sorry, I didn't know we were in the sex-ed wing of the Museum!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The next exhibit was equally wild... in part, depicting life-sized wax female nude sculptures, including some with unusual things protruding from their bums. hmmmm&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So we quickly went to the other, tamer, floors of the museum. lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Chuck Close self-portraits were amazing!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anyway, it was pouring rain (as you can probably tell by the photo of the crookedest Street above) ALL day. That didn't deter our fun though. We walked and walked...umbrella-less....drenched.....but happy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We spent a couple of hours in the Metreon. Father and son played in the arcade....I was so bone tired from all of the walking we'd done that I watched them from the sports bar inside the arcade. A Corona light recharged my batteries. lol IT has amazing recharge qualities. I noticed a few other mom's recovering in the same way. lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We then proceeded to China Town. It was festive (the night before Chinese New Year) and fun. Mr. Teen bought some fun Chinese tchatchkis and then we had dinner in a spectacular Chinese restaurant. We ordered some unusual things he hadn't tried before. Wonderful. (sigh) He kept eating and eating. lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We got home really late..exhausted....but relaxed and happy about the success of the day.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Our next son is counting the month's until HIS 13th birthday. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14 months to go for him. :) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/12769815-113882615996778641?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113882615996778641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113882615996778641' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113882615996778641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113882615996778641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/02/january-31st-crookedest-road-and_01.html' title='January 31st ~ The Crookedest Road and the Hungriest Teen'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113830881691577440</id><published>2006-01-26T12:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:33.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 26th ~ Teen Angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My oldest turns 13 today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in mushy mommy mode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is it possible that 13 years have gone by so quickly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is such a wonderful kid. We are very blessed. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This weekend we are taking him alone (sans siblings) to spend the day in SF....exploring things HE wants to explore, doing whatever HE wants to do, and having dinner in China Town. Both parents to himself for the day....a good gift. :) My parents did that for me....and I still remember it like it was yesterday. The kids always have to share us. It'll be fun having one-on-one time with each of them on their 13th birthdays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a different topic....I need a good book to read for my bookclub. (Its my turn to suggest the book we'll read.) I'm not having luck finding one (probably because I read a lot....and our bookclub has already read many of the best sellers). Maybe something 5 or 10 years old. Any suggestions?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113830881691577440?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113830881691577440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113830881691577440' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113830881691577440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113830881691577440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/01/january-26th-teen-angel.html' title='January 26th ~ Teen Angel'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113821735110579900</id><published>2006-01-25T10:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:33.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 25th  ~ Self-tagged</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;Idea stolen from BostonPopple's page (I decided to tag myself after reading her post because this might get me out of my blog rut! lol)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4 jobs I've had&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;1. Lifeguard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2. Costumed Character (specifically Chuck E. Cheese ~ yeah yeah    yeah...bite me lol) :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;3. Bank Manager&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;4. Mom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 places I've lived:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;1. California&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2. California&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;3. California&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;4. California  hmmmm  I guess I don't get out much lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4 movies I'd watch again:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;1. Pretty Woman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2. Pride and Prejudice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;3. Meet the Fockers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;4. The Wizard of Oz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;5. Yentl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;6. The Jazz Singer (the Neil Diamond one)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 television shows I love to watch:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;1. The West Wing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2. American Idol (after they choose the contestants....I don't like the humiliating of people lacking talent portion at all)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;3. Commander and Chief (it gives me hope)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;4. Antiques Road Show&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 favorite foods:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;. Chinese&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2. Chocolate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;3. BBQ'd steak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;4. Lobster &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 places I'd rather be right now:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;1. In a jacuzzi tub-for-two with hubby...with champagne...bubbles.....(sigh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2. At the coast enjoying the crashing waves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;3. Reading a good book without anything else to do...my mind free of any other thoughts. (Is that even possible?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;4. Starring in my own unfilmed.....never-to-be-filmed.....version of an afternoon reenacting moments of 9 1/2 weeks in the privacy of our own home..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 albums I cannot live without:  (ok..well....there are not any that I can't live without....but I enjoy these:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;1. Abba Gold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2. Enya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;3. Shania&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;4. Sting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4 Tags: (unless you've already done this....I'm behind in my reading)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;1. Gina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;2. Sarah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;3. Inger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;4. STB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;You're it! :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113821735110579900?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113821735110579900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113821735110579900' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113821735110579900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113821735110579900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/01/january-25th-self-tagged.html' title='January 25th  ~ Self-tagged'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113814737655741726</id><published>2006-01-24T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:33.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 24th ~ Blogger's block</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;For some reason I can't seem to blog lately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;My words just aren't flowing.....I feel sort of pent up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Hard to explain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;Hopefully this is temporary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;I am reading you, my blog pals......but even my reply fingers feel stiffled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;I probably just need a series of earth-shattering orgasms in rapid succession for some elongated amount of time. ("Elongated" just feels right in that sentence....lol) It might be like electric shock treatment......sorta :)&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/12769815-113814737655741726?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113814737655741726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113814737655741726' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113814737655741726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113814737655741726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/01/january-24th-bloggers-block.html' title='January 24th ~ Blogger&apos;s block'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113727822836867935</id><published>2006-01-14T14:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:33.355-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 14th ~ Mazel Tov and my angels</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Ok ~ I've been pouting....because I thought no one was reading my blog anymore.. (sigh)....I didn't know I'd come to depend on an audience. lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;For some reason Blogger isn't notifying me of your comments in my email anymore.... arghhhhhh But at least I got smart and noticed that some replies were made. Yippeeeee! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Anyway, so today we went to my very first Bat Mitzvah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;HOLY MOLY....(is that sacrilegious? lol) It was SOOOOOO neat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;We didn't bring MissM with us....because she didn't think she'd be able to sit still that long...(good decision!)...but the boys did great and they loved it too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I love religions. I've mentioned that before. I like knowing about all of them. The chants and songs in Hebrew were so neat....and we tried to follow along as best we could. Where the pronounciations were spelled out, we made a good attempt to sing along. And where they weren't spelled out, I really enjoyed just listening. (Ok...and I admit I felt a little jealous that I couldn't folloow along there. lol) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The Rabbi (a young woman) did a great job of explaining to us what was happening throughout...and the young lady who was being bat mitzvah'd was soo cute and so excited. Glowing. :) She had to give a sermon at the end to show that she understood all that was happening during the service....and that she understood the readings that she was saying in Hebrew. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;What a sense of humor she had. She had the whole group of us laughing at her very sweet, sometimes pointed, and very wise observations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Ok...I'm going to try again to post a pic of my snow angels. A friend shrunk the size of the file for me....maybe that will be the trick. Here goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Drats...one more time.....or maybe I can't have any type already in the post... hmmm.... I'll make a new blank page.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113727822836867935?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113727822836867935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113727822836867935' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113727822836867935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113727822836867935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/01/january-14th-mazel-tov-and-my-angels.html' title='January 14th ~ Mazel Tov and my angels'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113717501061112611</id><published>2006-01-13T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:33.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday January 13th ~ Dawn of the Dead</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ok...I'm completely wetting my pants over this hysterical website I came across today. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.deadbodyguy.com/top10.aspx"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://www.deadbodyguy.com/top10.aspx&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;This guy wants to be a "dead body" on film or TV. He's a married, bald, father of 6....and dreams that he can play a dead guy role....somewhere......somehow.   It's his dream.  It really is.   Check out his very very veryyyyyyyy funny website. Especially the "reasons&lt;/span&gt;" and the "pictures". The picture under the sheet made me wet my pants. My kind of humor. The bathtub one is good too. lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO! What the heck am I doing blogging!?! Arghhhhhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(kicking my butt back to my chores)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113717501061112611?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113717501061112611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113717501061112611' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113717501061112611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113717501061112611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/01/friday-january-13th-dawn-of-dead.html' title='Friday January 13th ~ Dawn of the Dead'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113678834220869511</id><published>2006-01-08T22:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:33.195-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 8th ~ Snow angels</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I've been trying for the past half an hour or so to post a cute pic of my munchkins in the snow on this blog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Maybe the file is too big....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;maybe it's not meant to be...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;but they look soo cute in this picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;New Years was spent with my In-laws.....whom I love immeasurably. But it was a long trip...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;and I felt like we stayed a day too long...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;and I don't what to sound whiney...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Not that my In-laws would complain....but their house is tiny.....and it was very wet rainy rather than snowy.......and they live far from town......so we all felt somewhat cooped up I think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'm cranky right now....so I think I'll go to bed rather than try to type....because I think it will come out as a rant if I keep trying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Not that a good rant isn't entertaining to read now and then......but sometimes it's hard to actually admit to the irrational cranky thoughts that pop into my head. I'd rather delude myself that I'm a sweet, nice person who never gets bugged.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;(polishing my rose colored glasses)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;la la la la la la LA LA &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;LA LA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; LA LAAAAAAA!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#000099;"&gt;(ever just feel like screaming at everyone for no good reason?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113678834220869511?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113678834220869511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113678834220869511' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113678834220869511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113678834220869511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/01/january-8th-snow-angels.html' title='January 8th ~ Snow angels'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113673992437311928</id><published>2006-01-08T09:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:33.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 7th ~ arghhh</title><content type='html'>Arggggggggggggggggh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK so I had this whole LOOOOOOOOONG blog post typed in yesterday....and this morning I tried to edit it....and I deleted the whole thing!  ARGH ARGH ARGH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I'll try to retype it later.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113673992437311928?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113673992437311928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113673992437311928' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113673992437311928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113673992437311928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2006/01/january-7th-arghhh.html' title='January 7th ~ arghhh'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113588248090654746</id><published>2005-12-29T10:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 31st (ok 29th but soon to be 31st) Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/200/Peace.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wish all of you a wonderful and peaceful 2006.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Peace on earth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Peace and calm within our hearts&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Peace amongst the chaos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy New Year :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113588248090654746?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113588248090654746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113588248090654746' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113588248090654746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113588248090654746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/12/january-31st-ok-29th-but-soon-to-be.html' title='January 31st (ok 29th but soon to be 31st) Happy New Year'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113536455549632351</id><published>2005-12-23T10:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.888-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 23rd ~ Blind faith and Tidings of comfort and joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This was a reply I made to Inger earlier this month, but I feel like sharing my favorite Christmas tradition with all of you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ever since I was a little girl (perhaps since birth) my family would go to my blind Aunt Edie's and deaf Uncle Johnny's house on Christmas Eve. (Aunt Edie is now 87...Uncle Johnny passed away about 10 years ago ~ but we are still doing this.) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aunt Edie plays the organ and we all sit in a circle in her tiny living room, eating salami and cheese and crackers, drinking "tiddlies" (burbon and 7up) (the kids just drink the 7up lol) and singing Christmas carols. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We have specific songs that we read off of very old song sheets. We start with something merry like Deck the Halls...in the middle we get more serious with Silent Night...and our last song is ALWAYS The 12 Days of Christmas...with each of us taking a different part. I love listening to Aunt Edie sing. She is usually the only one on key....and her voice is so sweet. It makes me think of the stories she has told over the years of singing and harmonizing on the beach in Santa Cruz with her sisters. Very Annette Funicello. :) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;After an hour or so of singing and snacking, we pile into multiple cars. Someone stops and picks up vats of take out Chinese food from a litle hole-in-the-wall Chinese food restaurant. The rest of us drive around looking at Christmas lights and sucking on Candy Canes with Aunt Edie....who squeals excitedly over their beauty even though she can't see. We then proceed to my Mom and Dad's home for the take out Chinese feast. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The kids all eat in the family room....and the adults all sit together in the kitchen laughing, and raving over this year's usually spectacular tasting Chinese food menu items. When none of us can eat another bite...at the adult table we pass around the fortune cookies...and read them outloud to each other, ending each fortune with the words "In Bed" which cracks everyone up. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There are three generations of family gathered at the adult table. The 4th generation has just as much fun with each other in the "kid room" eating and watching movies and enjoying each other.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;It's my favorite tradiotion of all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Merry Christmas and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays and Peace on Earth to everyone. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113536455549632351?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113536455549632351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113536455549632351' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113536455549632351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113536455549632351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/12/december-23rd-blind-faith-and-tidings.html' title='December 23rd ~ Blind faith and Tidings of comfort and joy'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113501734319363400</id><published>2005-12-19T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.806-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 19th ~ Uh...could someone pass me the manual?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Parenting is not an easy job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;There is no way to really prepare for it, because the personalities involved differ drastically and change a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;So far, I feel like we've been doing a good job. Our three are happy, wonderful, people. I'm proud of them....and proud of us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;With each we have had to overcome unexpected, stressful, medical issues, but nothing compared to what other families have had to cope with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Our oldest is about to turn 13.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;He is a really great kid, cares a lot about other people, is sensitive, observant of all things going on around him, and he is self-inflicted perfectionist. When he was in kindergarden, his teacher recognized that trait, and encouraged us to be cognizant of the pressure he places on himself...and to celebrate his work that isn't perfect and to not OVER-celebrate ever "A" grade. She explained that he is already putting enough pressure on himself, and that we should work to help him find success and happiness in a job well done...regardless of the grade. Her words were right on. She pegged him perfectly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"A" is now entering his teen years. We still struggle with helping him relax, helping him express stress. And it is intensifying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I feel unprepared. Like I'm not sure how to parent him. I'm not sure how to help him manage his stress levels. I'm not sure of how to keep an open dialog going when he shuts me off. I'm not sure if I need to push him to open up, or allow him to "suppress it" (as he calls it). Last night he told me that he can't tell me how he is feeling when he's angry because that always makes it worse. I'm a "talk it out" kind of person. My husband tells me I'm difficult to argue with, because the angrier I get, the more facts I have to make my point with. And he doesn't generally have "points" in his mind at the ready to argue back with. I suspect that is the same with "A". But when your teenager doesn't listen, and ignores you, and you have to repeat yourself 12 times to get a response.....who wouldn't get irked? And his response to that is what I'm not used to dealing with. The sullen, closed off silence...or tearful "I'm so stresssed..leave me alone" responses fluctuate. And I KNOW he IS stressed. And I spend a lot of time trying to help him cope with it....finding ways for him to relax......or helping him with homework....or simply trying to help him manage his time so that he doesn't drown in school work by getting behind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Where is the manual??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113501734319363400?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113501734319363400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113501734319363400' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113501734319363400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113501734319363400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/12/december-19th-uhcould-someone-pass-me.html' title='December 19th ~ Uh...could someone pass me the manual?'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113470405474317931</id><published>2005-12-15T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.719-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 15th ~ Dear Santa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/DearSanta.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/200/DearSanta.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I hope he comes down my chimney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113470405474317931?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113470405474317931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113470405474317931' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113470405474317931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113470405474317931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/12/december-15th-dear-santa.html' title='December 15th ~ Dear Santa'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113442444850913517</id><published>2005-12-12T13:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 12th ~ Merry Mazel tov Mubarak</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Those of you who have peeked into my blog lately have probably seen the cartoon from my last post.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have been feeling frustrated by the "You can't say Christmas" messages for years....but this year it's really getting to me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is the United States of America, for Godssakes. Opppps I said "god"....I meant for Christssakes. Shoot...that's worse. Uh.....for Oxygenssakes!! That should be safe.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We are supposed to be a melting pot. We are supposed to celebrate individual beliefs. We are supposed to be open to all. What the heck is wrong with being Christian?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I heard someone of the "Christmas isn't PC" ilk recently say that Christmas decorations looked too much like a "carnival." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uh. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ok. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So what? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's a celebration! Does that same person stomp past carnivals complaining about the lights? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't want to "push Christmas" on anyone. It's simply a numbers thing. The ratio of Christians in this country is simply larger than the other religions. Who cares?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm not some Jerry Farwell following bible thumping far right wing conservative Republican. I'm a middle of the road registered Democrat who believes in freedom of religious expression.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Menorah isn't just a bunch of candles.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Muslim Hajj is not just a long walk.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why can't we celebrate our differences....instead of pointing at them as though those differences are evil? I love learning about the beliefs of other people. I love understanding their ceremonies and celebrations. And I am always struck by the similarities in both Eastern and Western religions. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And you have the right to not believe any of it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I feel so fortunate to live in a very diverse community...religiously....culturally. I wish everyone had the opportunity to get to know so many different groups of people. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish my Jewish friends "L'shana tova" at Rosh Hashanah.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish my Muslim friends "Eid Mubarak" at the end of Romandan.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I wish all the citizens of this earth Peace....ongoing....and on all levels...always.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And, frankly, I think that the percentage of people who are offended by religious expression is pretty small.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But please do not tell me I can't have cake at my birthday party because you don't like frosting. Feel free to have whatever you want at your party...and I'd love an invitation to attend. I promise to be there to celebrate with you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Merry Christmas&lt;/strong&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/12769815-113442444850913517?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113442444850913517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113442444850913517' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113442444850913517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113442444850913517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/12/december-12th-merry-mazel-tov-mubarak_12.html' title='December 12th ~ Merry Mazel tov Mubarak'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113390706699355589</id><published>2005-12-06T14:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 6th ~ The "C" word</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/Kindathe.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Kindathe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113390706699355589?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113390706699355589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113390706699355589' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113390706699355589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113390706699355589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/12/december-6th-c-word.html' title='December 6th ~ The &quot;C&quot; word'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113344854049570644</id><published>2005-12-01T06:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.412-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 1st ~ ::mushy sigh::</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/romancekiss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/romancekiss.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;I love my husband.....  (sigh)    :)&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/12769815-113344854049570644?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113344854049570644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113344854049570644' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113344854049570644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113344854049570644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/12/december-1st-mushy-sigh.html' title='December 1st ~ ::mushy sigh::'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113337796397068736</id><published>2005-11-30T11:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.334-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 30th ~ Uniform Appeal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;WARNING:  THIS is a fluff piece.  Don't read if you're in the mood for meaty subject matter :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Many of you who read this blog are writers in one form or another. This is such a freeing forum. I love reading your individual styles....and expressions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;I was thinking about a conversation I had semi-recently with a dear friend of mine who is a writer and has just finished her first novel. I love the way she writes, and she was complimenting my style....and I told her confidentially that the only fiction I've ever written is pornographic. So far I haven't posted it anywhere. lol &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;What made me think about this conversation was seeing a particular a woman leaving Starbucks yesterday. She was about 50, had her shoulder length reddish hair in two pigtails, was wearing white knee-socks and black mary-janes. She had on a very short plaid skirt and white blouse.....that smacked of a Catholic School Uniform...and over the top of that she was wearing a short, shiney, red, rain slicker. She walked out of Starbucks with her coffee...glanced at me....and I instantly recognized the sexual game she was playing. And she knew I knew. It was either roleplay, or she is in a BDSM relationship of some form...but it brought a smile to my face. Her bravery for wearing this outfit in public appealed to me. I think it was the "fun" of it that got to me. What a day she must be having. How non-mundane! lol &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;It made me feel like writing her story. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;I just may do that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Hubby is a very private person, so our intimate moments and expressions are kept behind closed doors (although I do have a publically erotic sense of humor that he enjoys)....but I wonder if we were in a community where no one knew us.....would we take our erotic forms of play into a more semi-public, but still relatively private arena? Would we want to? I suspect I would....and he wouldn't....but he surprises me constantly ...and overwhelms my senses often and when I least expect it...so who knows? :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113337796397068736?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113337796397068736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113337796397068736' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113337796397068736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113337796397068736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/11/november-30th-uniform-appeal.html' title='November 30th ~ Uniform Appeal'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113289265486558363</id><published>2005-11-24T19:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.252-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 24th ~ Gobble Gobble putt putt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/HappyTDay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/HappyTDay.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I love Thanksgiving.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;It has always been one of my favorite holidays.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;The gathering together of family for a traditional meal brings back memories of my childhood and mixes with the traditions we are trying to pass on to our own children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;I woke up this morning thinking of the many Thanksgivings I spent as a kid with my family at my paternal grandparent's house. My grandfather passed away a couple of years ago. My grandmother passed away at the beginning of this year. I found myself really missing both of them today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;They weren't easy people. But they were characters and lovable in their own unique ways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Our Thanksgiving trip to Grandma's house was like a trip to the country. They thought of us as "city people". The small town they lived in always smelled of burning leaves at this time of year....a smell I love to this day. Their house was always a little too hot and had a little too much dog hair on the couch, but it was welcoming and smelled of almond press cookies and roasting turkey and bacon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;My grandfather was missing some fingers from a machine accident when he was a young man. He loved to eat what he called "The Pope's Nose" (aka the tailbone) of the turkey. After the entire family participated in saying a sweet, sometimes emotional, always touching, prayer of thanks ~ we could looked to the head of the table and see my grandfather enjoying the "Pope's Nose". His finger nubs covered with grease, turkey butt in his mouth, false teeth barely fitting, he'd begin his annual retelling of "God DAMN Black and Decker!" Suddenly we felt like "city people". lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Apparently, Black and Decker didn't send him a rebate on a power tool many, many, years ago. He carried the grudge to his grave. Although, I think that the annual retelling of that story may have been for our benefit more than a true grudge he held. We would all get hysterical with laughter at his tirade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;I miss him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;My grandmother was one of those people who would say whatever was on her mind. "Wow you sure have gotten fat, havent you?"  And she could never remember the names of our spouses when we grandkids got married. But she was full of life. She loved to swim and go places and do things and she was wild for my Mom's macaroni salad. Grandma was still getting in her car and driving the 4 hours to visit us into her 80's. She had a remarkable zest for life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;When visiting us, Grandma would sit down to eat and proclaim "Num Num Num Num!" loudly before digging into her meal. Her false teeth weren't a good fit either...so between the "Num num nums" and the teeth clacking, it was hard to not get the giggles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;I miss her too, especially today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;As kids, a big tradition after the Thanksgiving meal was to go on a "fart walk." We'd walk, laugh and "rip 'em"...trying to outdo each other. Tonight we had a wonderful Thanksgiving with my side of the family. We all gathered at my brother's house. After dinner the dads took all of the kids on a "fart walk". My brother's house was so peaceful with all of our kids gone! The adults who stayed cleaned up the dishes and talked. I finally realized why we'd gone on fart walks as kids! It got all of us loud, active, children out of Grandma's house for a little while so the adults could enjoy a moment of peacfulness. lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Happy Thanksgiving :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/12769815-113289265486558363?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113289265486558363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113289265486558363' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113289265486558363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113289265486558363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/11/november-24th-gobble-gobble-putt-putt.html' title='November 24th ~ Gobble Gobble putt putt'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113233503433932631</id><published>2005-11-18T09:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 18th ~ Flipped Off</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;So, I've been trying to change my lifestyle to include a regular does of daily exercise. (AKA the "e" word)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I have defective knees, so my options are limited. I thought about prostitution for fitness.....because...well, hey, I'm quite graceful on my back and I can get a good workout in that way.... But then I started to think about the next PTA meeting....(sigh) How would I explain?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Anyway....so I walk....but not all that consistently...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;My dear friend, D, who is VERY fit and VERY active and walks at a rate of about 300mph, has been bugging me to try this pool where she swims laps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;It's expensive.....and even though I love swimming...I went with her the first time mostly just to get her off of my back. I didn't expect to fall in love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I used to be a lifeguard and a swim instructor when I was in my teens, but I'm out of shape and it's been a LONG time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I slipped into the pool, looked up at the sky, and began swimming. I was hooked! After that first swim with D, I went home discovered an unexpected pay bonus in my mailbox. It must have been meant to be. This bonus will pay for 6 months worth of swimming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I've been swimming about 4 days per week....until this week. This week I had appointments that I couldn't change with the kids' doctors on Monday and Tuesday. (There are limited swim hours each day.) So I finally made it to the pool on Wednesday. I did my laps....and felt stronger than I had the week before so I pushed myself a little. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And THEN I noticed this woman next to me swimming so gracefully and doing underwater flip turns at the end of each lap....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Well.........sheeeeeesh.....I can do that. Right? I've never been on a swim team...but I used to be a strong swimmer....what's a little flip turn?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Hmmmm I couldn't do it correctly. I tried about 20 times. Oh well...I gave up for now figuring I could practice again next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I showered, left the pool facility, and went shopping at Target and found myself frozen in place in the middle of the store due to sudden, severe, lower back pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;ARGGGGGH!! I limped and whimpered my way back to the car, dragged myself into the seat tried to drive home without crying. I've been on Motrin and muscle relaxers and the occasional vicoden ever since! But at least I know what caused it. No flip turns for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;At least not until I build up my strength. I guess I'll put off the high dive for awhile too....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113233503433932631?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113233503433932631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113233503433932631' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113233503433932631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113233503433932631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/11/november-18th-flipped-off.html' title='November 18th ~ Flipped Off'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113163229260343203</id><published>2005-11-10T06:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 10th ~ It's so big!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/Men"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/400/Men%27sRoom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;(grin)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Someone sent me this pic of new wallpaper in a men's room.  It just makes me happy. lol  Thought I'd share it with you.  I keep trying to think of what the wallpaper would look like in the Woman's Room at this establishment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113163229260343203?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113163229260343203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113163229260343203' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113163229260343203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113163229260343203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/11/november-10th-its-so-big.html' title='November 10th ~ It&apos;s so big!'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113155047825928600</id><published>2005-11-09T07:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:32.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 9th ~ Happy Birthday Gina</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy Birthday Gina!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/birthday-cake%20O-net%20year1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/400/birthday-cake%20O-net%20year1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I don't know why this printed twice LOL and I can't erase the second picture because the normal ways don't work! LOL SO Happy B-Day again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/birthday-cake%20O-net%20year1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/400/birthday-cake%20O-net%20year1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113155047825928600?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113155047825928600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113155047825928600' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113155047825928600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113155047825928600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/11/november-9th-happy-birthday-gina.html' title='November 9th ~ Happy Birthday Gina'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113111455631740304</id><published>2005-11-04T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 4th ~ Along Came a Spider</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font face="georgia" color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;It's funny, I haven't posted for awhile mostly because I have too much to say....and on different topics....so I couldn't think of a way to organize it. And then I realized: This is a BLOG, dammit! I can do whatever I want! Organized, Schmorganized!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;First, let me take you back to Halloween:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;(blurry screen fade........return picture to a dark street of 16 houses lit with jack-o-lanterns)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;NO NO NO....before that!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;(blurry screen fade......return picture to 7:25am October 31st)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"I decided I want to wear a costume to school, Mom," said my 7th grader. (Note: I'm going to look like a push-over in this next section, but really I'm not.  I just try to let them have a little creative freedom .  Unfortunately, with freedom of expression comes chaos. lol)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"But your ride will be here in 5 minutes! What are you going to be?"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"Can you just do my face with make-up?" he asks.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"Ok..but let's hurry!!!!"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;So I frantically make him scary looking........he leaves....hasn't had breakfast....arghh.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;7:40am Calling out to my 6 yr old daughter, "Do you have your Dorothy costume on?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"No, I want to be a lamb!" (The lamb costume is a lamb furry type thing we've had in the dress-up box since she was about 2)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"But honey, Dorothy is such a great costume and next year those ruby slippers won't fit you!"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"Mom PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE..I don't want to be Dorothy! I want to be a cute lamb! Can you make my face all white like a lamb?"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;sigh&gt;"Ok....."&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;She looks in the mirror and bursts into tears. "I look like a clown! I look scary!"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;Wipe-off wipe-off wipe-off wipe-off ...white make-up now all over me.... "Ok, how about just a black nose and pink lips and sparkles on your cheeks?"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"Ok, Mommy."&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;7:55am My 6th Grader: "Mom, I can't wear this mask to school...it'll be too hot! Can you do my face instead?"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;We have to leave in 5 minutes.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;Suddenly I feel the need to breathe into a paper bag...&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"Ok...if we do it quickly! Get your shoes on! MissM put your lunch in your backpack!... Ok..Now what am I making you up as?"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"A dead kid."&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"A dead kid?"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"Yeah."&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"Isn't that kind of digusting?"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"Mom! It's Halloween!"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;"Arrrrgh ok...."&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;So he wore normal clothes....and I made his face ashen...with blue-ish lips.... He looked horrible. He loved it.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;(blurry screen fade.............return picture to 4:00pma warm and inviting kitchen filled with12-14 adult friends and the smell of spicy comfort foods...and their kids in costumes streaming in and out, laughing, playing and eating.)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;My friend LisRay has this wonderful, annual, "pre-trick-or-treating" dinner party. Everyone gathers in the late afternoon, eats wonderful food, and leaves shortly after dark. She always thinks that this is the last year she is doing it...because I'm sure it's a ton of work. Not only all of the wonderful food she prepares, and getting her house ready...but she makes fun, interesting, gift bags for each family to take home with them. So LisRay, we'll be there next year! :) Just you TRY getting out of it. :) lol It's as fun as your Mardi Gras party!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;(Blurry screen fade............back to that dark street of 16 houses lit with jack-o-lanterns)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;And now we return to the focus of my blog brewing of the last few days...&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;My neighbor across the street has the hots for my hubby. L is happily married, but she had recently lost a lot of weight, and she is a big flirt. This doesn't bother me. I'm flirty with friends whom I feel safe with...and who FULLY know I'm all playful talk (except with hubby..lol)....I'd never take it further than that. Plus I talk in general flirt terms referring to moments with hubby. I never direct it to desire for another man. My husband, R, is fun to flirt with because he get flustered, or speechless fairly easily. I think he enjoys her attentions. She flirts with me too. It's fine. It's funny. However.....oddly enough....on Halloween strange things happen.... my "comfort level" gets pushed.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;L LOVES halloween. Her entire house is decked out. She spends a huge amount of money on costumes for herself and her kids. Her husband just helps her decorate and watches events unfold indulgently. Anyway, when L was heavier, her costumes were more Renaissance or Goth in nature. Last year she was an extremely sexy French Maid, dusting the concrete steps of my front porch whenever she thought my hubby might be near. I laughed. It was cute and funny.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;THIS YEAR, she dressed as Little Miss Muffett....and OH what a tuffett! The top portion of her short pink gingham dress was like a thin white peasant blouse....she wore no bra. The petticoats poofed the skirt out so provacatively that all she had to do was cough, and her little ruffled panties were exposed. As soon as we drove up from the dinner party, she called R over to her front yard to show him. Her husband was there. This was all out in the open....but her flirting was outrageous...very "directed" at R. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;Anyway, I played it normally. But it was hard to not stare at her nipples even for me. lol I think R was a little taken aback. He could feel the shift from &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;light-hearted, racy, flirting, to full-blown "I want to give you a blow job right here on the lawn in front of my husband" flirting. R left with the kids to take them Trick-or-treating....and I stayed home passing out candy to 250 kids (not exaggerating)...and visited with L in the middle of the street between mobs of kids at our door. As I watched her aim her do-me-now-you-know-you-want-me focus at every unsuspecting father out with his kids that passed by.....I began to relax.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font color="#000099"&gt;But even now...my eyes are open a little wider....just in case I need to be that spider who frightens Miss Muffett away.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113111455631740304?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113111455631740304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113111455631740304' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113111455631740304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113111455631740304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/11/november-4th-along-came-spider.html' title='November 4th ~ Along Came a Spider'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113076853167816970</id><published>2005-10-31T06:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 31st ~ Happy Halloween!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/1600/Pumpkin.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/200/Pumpkin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Good Morning Blog Pumpkins!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Happy Halloween to all of you. :)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113076853167816970?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113076853167816970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113076853167816970' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113076853167816970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113076853167816970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/10/october-31st-happy-halloween.html' title='October 31st ~ Happy Halloween!'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113034311239500683</id><published>2005-10-26T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.764-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 26th ~ Wanted: Raving Lunatic</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;I just called hubby at work and demanded a big raise.  I wasn't friendly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Was that bitchy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Don't get me wrong, I love being a stay at home Mom....and I do have my part time job (5 hours per week) working for the non-profit....but sometimes I think I deserve a week-long spa treatment each month just for surviving the daily morning chaos in this house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;All three of them need to be at school at different times. We plan the night before...clothes, homework etc...I give them 90 minutes to get ready because I know they don't like to be rushed (they aren't "morning people")....I try to remain pleasant......I do....I really try.....but when after warning them that we have 30 minutes until we have to leave.....5 minutes ......  2 minutes....leaving now!....they look at me and say, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;(kid 3)"Do you know where my socks are"     I swear...I lose it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"They were just on your feet!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"I know, but I stepped in water."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;(kid 2) "Have you seen my report?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"I told you last night to put it in your backpack"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"I did!" (Sobbing, crying, completely put out that I'm accusing him of not following instructions when he always does what he's told and he can't help it if outside forces come in and undo work he's done!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"Did you have breakfast?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;(kid 1) "No, there wasn't time and I didn't know what to have"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"You couldn't have eaten the cereal and toast and juice I set out for you?" (smoke billowing from my skull)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I think I deserve a raise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Or a Mai Tai.....or two.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113034311239500683?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113034311239500683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113034311239500683' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113034311239500683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113034311239500683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/10/october-26th-wanted-raving-lunatic.html' title='October 26th ~ Wanted: Raving Lunatic'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-113000060475192129</id><published>2005-10-22T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 22 ~ 9th time's the charm</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;"Believe you can...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;and you will."  Those were the words on the card that my Weight Watcher's leader mailed to me the last time I missed a few meetings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I've gotten a lot of those cards.  I'm surprised they don't stamp a postage and handling fee on my butt whenever they see me coming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I re- joined WW for the 9th time since 2001 this morning.  I'm feeling very proud of myself and am trying not to celebrate my vast inner strength and superior will-power with a donut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Have any of you ever seen Dr. Oz on Oprah?  He's the doc who brings in cadaver organs and shows the audience what healthy looks like...and what diseased looks like.  I love this guy.  I swear he has the hots for Oprah...look out Stedman...but I digress...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I love this guy because nothing is bloody....and I hate bloody. (Shooting scenes on Little House in the Pararie are too much for me.)  It all looks sterile...and scientific....and interesting. He's charming and warm and matter-of-fact and he makes me want to live a healthier lifestyle.  You don't get the feeling that he is critcizing people for how they live, but rather encouraging everyone to live differently by explaining why it matters in a way that is clear and easy to grasp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Opps ~ I just realized that my pedometer fell off the waistband of my pants.  I'm trying to hit 10000 steps per day.  I wonder if it fell off when I laid down to think about making my bed.  I'd go look...but I'm afraid of the "force"....if I see the bed...it might force me to test it for comfort.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I realize this sounds like I'm not taking my desire to lose weight seriously.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Actually, I am.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Screw the pedometer.  I took step one and rejoined WW.  The biggest step is always the first one.  I can count the rest of my steps anytime....so long as I continue putting one foot in front of the other.....and spraying windex on leftovers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-113000060475192129?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/113000060475192129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=113000060475192129' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113000060475192129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/113000060475192129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/10/october-22-9th-times-charm.html' title='October 22 ~ 9th time&apos;s the charm'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112951225279286299</id><published>2005-10-16T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 17th ~ 7 Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7 Things I Plan to do Before I Die: (Format gleefully stolen from Inger's blog) ~ grin ~&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Get this stupid excess weight off of my bones..because really...I'm sick of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;* Follow my long-held-always-put-off dream and become a voice-over personality for radio and TV commercials.&lt;br /&gt;* Swim with dolphins.&lt;br /&gt;* Travel to Ireland with hubby and the kids.&lt;br /&gt;* See my children become happy, successful adults and know my grandchildren.&lt;br /&gt;* Become more organized.&lt;br /&gt;* Continue to make sure hubby always knows how wonderfully in love with him I am. I plan to be having an affair with him until the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7 things I cannot do:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I can't enjoy shopping...unless it's for presents for people or something wickedly X-rated. lol Or I suppose if I won the Lottery....I could enjoy shopping without thought to cost! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;* Tolerate bickering. They always need "yard duty" help at the kids' school. NO WAY would I put myself in that position. I couldn't handle it.&lt;br /&gt;* I can't help being over-emotional. Happy? I cry. Sad? I cry. Completely pissed off? I cry. In the throes of an earth-shattering orgasm? I cry.&lt;br /&gt;* I will never enjoy house cleaning. I wish I could.&lt;br /&gt;* Laugh quietly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;* I can't tolerate racism or racist humor. I love a good joke....but not in that subject area.&lt;br /&gt;* Understand algebra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7 things that attract me to the opposite sex:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;* Integrity: Someone who does the right thing...even if no one else is doing it.&lt;br /&gt;* Brains: I love to be kept on my toes....and intellect turns me on.&lt;br /&gt;* Wit: Fun, verbal sparring, with laughter...what's not to like?&lt;br /&gt;* Kindness :)&lt;br /&gt;* Insight: Someone who sees what is inside of all people....and not just their outsides.&lt;br /&gt;* A creative, erotic, active, so-hot-for-me-he-can't-walk, sex-drive&lt;br /&gt;* Love of children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7 things that I say most often:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;* I love you&lt;br /&gt;* Please just let me think my own thoughts for a minute! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;* Oh God....yesssssss ohhhhh god...yeeeeeeesssssssssssssssss&lt;br /&gt;* Did you brush your teeth and put on deodorant?&lt;br /&gt;* Could you guys please help me for a minute?&lt;br /&gt;* Stuff it in, cram it in, I'm never buying it again (a phrase brought to life by my Mother-In-Law)&lt;br /&gt;* Ask Dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;7 celebrity crushes :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Patrick Stewart: I'd "make it so" for him any time!&lt;br /&gt;* Gene Wilder: I have always loved him ~ ever since he made Charlie's dreams come true.&lt;br /&gt;* Conin O'Brien: He's such a riot...and I love his Irishy-boyish-looks&lt;br /&gt;* Chris Noth: He'd be great in bed&lt;br /&gt;* The Rock: This needs an explanation? I think knot (g)&lt;br /&gt;* Robin Williams: Ok...he would be exhausting to know.....but oh so worth it&lt;br /&gt;* Alan Rickman: Oh my ...ohhhhh my........yes...ohhhhhh yeeeeeeesssssss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;7 People I wish to do this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;All of you. Please! Even you non-bloggers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112951225279286299?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112951225279286299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112951225279286299' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112951225279286299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112951225279286299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/10/october-17th-7-things.html' title='October 17th ~ 7 Things'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112929780562895222</id><published>2005-10-14T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 14 ~ Stay tuned</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hello sweet peoples. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sorry I haven't posted for awhile...or had the chance to read your blogs. It's been a rough couple of weeks. I replied to your replies in my last post so check it out. But for a quick general note: my Mom is having a remarkable recovery from her Radical Hysterectomy. And she LOVED her Oncologist. Even told the nurse she thought he looked like a rock star! lol He does! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And you know how when you have abdominal surgery, the docs and nurses wait anxiously for you to begin....uh.....rippin em? (aka...passing gas) ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So...a Resident came in to check on my Mom on Day 3 of her Hospital stay:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Have you passed gas yet, Mrs. M?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;To which my Mom replied, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Pull my finger."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MOM! Sheeeeeesh lol Mom only LAUGHS at jokes like that....NEVER makes them! Must have been the Morphine. &lt;g&gt;(Except she was no longer on Morphine)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I hope all of you, my fellow bloginisters, are doing well. I'll catch up on my reading of your lives today and tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thank you all for your kind thoughts and words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&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/12769815-112929780562895222?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112929780562895222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112929780562895222' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112929780562895222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112929780562895222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/10/october-14-stay-tuned.html' title='October 14 ~ Stay tuned'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112852018283840824</id><published>2005-10-05T05:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.304-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 5th ~ Fee Fi Foe Fum</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;I'm cracking up right now as I type the title of this post, because I'm thinking of giving my sister the link to this blog....and she is so going to kick my ass for that title! LOL Keeeeeeeest!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;(blurry screen fades to scene in the waiting room of the hospital)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So, two of my 3 brothers, my sister, and I, all arranged to wait with my Dad in the waiting room at the hospital while Mom went in for her Totally Radical surgery. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;We're a close family, so this wasn't unusal, and we all knew that Dad was stressed and worried. My other brother would have been there too, but was unable to get out of work for the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;What IS unusal though, is the height of my family. I'm the shrimp at 5'6", the rest of them, including my sister, all hover around 6'3". Yes...6'3". Well, except for Mom. She's 5'8". I always thought she was 5'10". (I'm measuring her when she gets home from the hosiptal because she may be trying to escape the giants. ) My sister is gorgeous, strikingly so, looks like a model. I must admit, sometimes I feel like I'm left out of the "mile high club".....although...I'd happily join the "other" version of the mile high club if someone could just provide hubby and I with a plane ticket somewhere..... anywhere...oh yessssssss!.....YES!.......oh yesssss!..... but I digress..... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Where was I? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Oh yeah...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Whenever my family goes anywhere as a group, heads turn. "Who are those giants? They look nice, but hide the kids, honey!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It's probably the same for the Harlem Globe Trotters or NFL players.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I consider myself one of the giants. I may be their dwarfy side kick...but I'm still one of them....so when I refer to the giants.....please include me in your head. Gracias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So, in the hospital waiting room, we sat in a corner against the back wall. My brothers moved furniture to make it more cozy. No excepting the status quo with this bunch. Giants moving furniture....just imagine. lol This gave us a place to visit, and gave room to the rest of those waiting. But I forgot to mention something...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Besides being giants, we all have rather active (and not above the gutter) senses of humor.....and we all use humor as a defense mechanism against stress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;We were REALLY stressed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So......um.....we became REALLY funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It was sort of like being at the Tonight Show. The giants in the corner were laughing until tears were spewing from their eyes....and the rest of those in the waiting room were looking at their feet, trying not to laugh....but you could see their smiles. Our wait for Mom, including surgery delays etc. was about 3 and a half hours. Some of the others waiting had already been there for longer than that and had many more hours to go in waiting for their loved ones. I think, although perhaps a little obnoxious, I THINK that we giants provided a bit of comic relief. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Admittedly, a few times when my youngest brother stood to tell a story, and used full body language along with his impossible-to-lower-the-volume booming voice, I glanced around nervously thinking, "We're going to get thrown out. We must be bugging the hell out of these people." And one sweet little woman did leave and to go the other very quiet waiting room. However, most people had on those hidden smiles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Have you ever noticed that when you wait for a long time with a group of strangers, you always want to ask:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"So who are you waiting for and what's wrong with them?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But you don't......because......well that would be rude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So the giants provided an alternative distraction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I must say though, when the surgeon was ready to speak to the family.......we all became instantly sober. We were lead into this tiny little room and told to sit down. My poor Dad's face went whiter that a sheet. The doc asked if we were all family.....and the rest of us went whiter than sheets too. Quicky realizing that an entire tiny room full of giants were about to faint (which, btw, is a family trait ~we're fainters) the oncologist reassured us all that mom was fine and the surgery went really well. The news was wonderful. We all cheered!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Upon exiting the news room, those still in the waiting room looked up with big smiles at us. They must have heard us cheering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"Good news?" they asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"Yes!" we announced in relieved unison. "Starbucks anyone?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112852018283840824?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112852018283840824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112852018283840824' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112852018283840824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112852018283840824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/10/october-5th-fee-fi-foe-fum.html' title='October 5th ~ Fee Fi Foe Fum'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112844348335621235</id><published>2005-10-04T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 4th ~ Mom made it through the Rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom;s surgery went well.  My deepest thanks to all of you for your thoughts and prayers and good vibes!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;More later....back to the hospital for me..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112844348335621235?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112844348335621235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112844348335621235' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112844348335621235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112844348335621235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/10/october-4th-mom-made-it-through-rain.html' title='October 4th ~ Mom made it through the Rain'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112834661659869054</id><published>2005-10-03T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.155-08:00</updated><title type='text'>October 3rd ~ Totally Radical</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Today's the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Mom's birthday....and the date of her radical hysterectomy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I hope they get everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'm trying not to freak out.  It's hard to keep morbid thoughts out of my brain when I'm worried. :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;They take everything......uterus, ovaries, tubes, lymph nodes, cervix, other things and biopsy surrounding areas.  Have you ever cooked a frozen turkey and had to shake out the guts first?  Like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My sister told Mom, "Just don't let them take your G-Spot!"  Mom cracked up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;See why I love my sister?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112834661659869054?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112834661659869054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112834661659869054' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112834661659869054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112834661659869054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/10/october-3rd-totally-radical.html' title='October 3rd ~ Totally Radical'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112792447985492520</id><published>2005-09-28T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.085-08:00</updated><title type='text'>September 28th ~ Barf-O-Rama</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Come one!  Come all! To the newest West Coast Sensation! The event that eclipses the sun peeking through the windows of our home!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Of what, dear people, do I speak of?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why it's Barf-O-Rama 2005!!!  Don't miss it!  Front row seats still available!  Bring towels!  Bring Lysol!  Bring me plane tickets out of this hell hole!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(please)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So...it began with Lil Miss M. last Thursday....a flu that topped all flus. It lasted 6 days.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(Only 12 hours of throwing up...but days and days and days of the rest of the symptoms and fever and pain. ) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt; I sterilized, I sprayed, I mopped, I prayed, "Please God, Let it be only one who suffers from this germ plague."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well, my prayers were answered in mysterious ways.  Yesterday afternoon Lil Miss M was finally starting to feel better...and my oldest son slams his body, faster than the speed of light, through the front door, after school, whimper/yelling at me, "Mom! Move! I'm sick!"&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;em&gt;(&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bathroom door slam&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;....)&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uh oh.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(grimace)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;  As my sweet A Man is doubled over, trying desperately to live until the next minute, I look over at Z Man.  He looks pale.  But maybe it's because he has too much homework.  That's possible, right?  6th Grade = Homework, right? But I kind of think to myself, "Please God, if Z Man is going to get this too.....please let it be tonight so that I can get them both through it at once...."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My prayers were answered almost instantaneously!  Z Man double over a couple of hours later and earned the honor of having his picture listed in Webster's next to the word "Projectile".  It made me sort of miss the days of infant spit-up.  I guess even vomit grows up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;(sigh) Crap! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;No, wait....that's another story!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112792447985492520?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112792447985492520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112792447985492520' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112792447985492520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112792447985492520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/09/september-28th-barf-o-rama.html' title='September 28th ~ Barf-O-Rama'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112778927651635289</id><published>2005-09-26T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:31.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>September 26th ~ A yuck yick yuck yuck</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;(This one's for you Gina...lol)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;What's the difference between Roast Beef and Pea Soup?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Anyone can roast beef. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112778927651635289?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112778927651635289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112778927651635289' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112778927651635289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112778927651635289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/09/september-26th-yuck-yick-yuck-yuck.html' title='September 26th ~ A yuck yick yuck yuck'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112724496124783452</id><published>2005-09-20T12:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>September 20th ~ Refrigerator Stew</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You've all made refrigerator stew right? That creation you whip up when there is no food in the house..but lots of random ingredients? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So....that's what this post is: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;random ingredients + no recipe = outcome of    hmmm .... (shrug) ...something FANTASTIC and seemingly-well-thought-out, obviously! lol &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;If not, nothing was wasted anyway....lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Refrigerator Stew&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;1 cup of Rita....simmered down to nothing ...let us pray. Maybe if we all focus our thoughts, Rita will fall apart in the Gulf. I'm focusing hard. How about you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;2 Tablespoons of my part-time job. Do not melt ....Do not sift.....Keep whole. Do not allow distractions like posting on your blog while you are supposed to be working ,you foolish woman, you! (Sorry...had to spank myself. Hmm maybe I should videotape that for hubby. No! No! No more distractions....finish this and back to work, wench! ~sigh~ )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;1 quart of health conscious behavior poured in slowly. Yeah, like that needs explanation. Arrrrrgh. Maybe I'll make that a gallon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Coat pan with melted Medusa... No....I don't need to comb the snakes outta my hair. (Well, I should probably do that too...but it wasn't what I meant.) I was thinking of the look of pure glee on the faces of my sons when they got off of their very first, very big-time, roller coaster ride a couple of weeks ago. They were sooooo worried about getting on.... By the time the ride was over, a whole new world had opened up for them both. They then dragged us to every MAJOR rollercoaster in the park. Yes, EVEN the ones that there is NO WAY you would go on! It was really fun watching them evolve before out eyes. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Bake at slightly breezy/ slightly cloudly/very pleasant until everything smells deliciously right. :)&lt;/span&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/12769815-112724496124783452?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112724496124783452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112724496124783452' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112724496124783452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112724496124783452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/09/september-20th-refrigerator-stew.html' title='September 20th ~ Refrigerator Stew'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112705888392599245</id><published>2005-09-18T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.852-08:00</updated><title type='text'>September 18th ~ Doing The Uterus Boogey</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Mom got back the results from her CT-Scan yesterday and was told that the cancer hasn't spread past her uterus!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Yippeeeeeee!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;She still has to meet with the oncologist on the 23rd and they'll schedule the surgery shortly after that..but what good news, huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Thanks to all of you blog readers for all of your prayers and good thoughts. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112705888392599245?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112705888392599245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112705888392599245' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112705888392599245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112705888392599245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/09/september-18th-doing-uterus-boogey.html' title='September 18th ~ Doing The Uterus Boogey'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112671205788356122</id><published>2005-09-14T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>September 14th ~ Thrown a Curve</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My daughter came into my room this morning to give me some morning cuddles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;She's 6.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;We played our usual "How much do you love me" game...where we take turns thinking of crazy amounts of love for each other. Like, "I love you all the way to Jupiter, around the sun 3 times and back." "Well, I love YOU around the world forwards and backwards 5 gazillion times and back!" This goes on and on for about 5 minutes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Her final one to me this morning was, "Well, I love YOU to God and back! You can't go farther than that, Mom."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;She had me there. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And so with a tender smile I watched her skip away down the hallway in her underwear ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;and noticed that her little body is changing too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;She has a waist....and her legs have feminine curves.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Dear God, where are the breaks? Time is traveling too fast again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112671205788356122?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112671205788356122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112671205788356122' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112671205788356122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112671205788356122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/09/september-14th-thrown-curve.html' title='September 14th ~ Thrown a Curve'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112632475715744361</id><published>2005-09-09T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.681-08:00</updated><title type='text'>September 9th ~ Uncertainty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I got a call from Mom today around noon....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;She sounded afraid. She was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;She'd seen her doc this morning and after not good results from a new blood test they have canceled, Monday's surgery, scheduled a C-T scan for Wed, and have set her up with an oncology surgeon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The blood test results indicate that it MAY have spread. It may not have. I hope it hasn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I asked if she wanted me to come over until Dad got home. She said she was fine and that I didn't need to do that....until I asked her if she'd had any lunch and she burst into tears. My Mom isn't normally emotional in that way. I got there as fast as I could. She lives about an hour away. One of my brothers and my sister showed up too. We talked, listened, prayed, laughed, and generally calmed her down. I think we all felt better about it, especially Mom, by the time we left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The white noise is back in my head.&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/12769815-112632475715744361?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112632475715744361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112632475715744361' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112632475715744361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112632475715744361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/09/september-9th-uncertainty.html' title='September 9th ~ Uncertainty'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112620160935469649</id><published>2005-09-08T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.600-08:00</updated><title type='text'>September 8th ~</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;My mom has cancer.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;She just called me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It is in her uterine lining.  Surgery is scheduled for Monday.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;All I can hear is white noise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112620160935469649?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112620160935469649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112620160935469649' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112620160935469649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112620160935469649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/09/september-8th.html' title='September 8th ~'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112593966749085948</id><published>2005-09-05T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>September 5 ~ Impressions Count</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Its a good thing we have blogs.... really.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because all of this anger we feel would probably be venting in worse ways if we didn't have an outlet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't the "powers that be" know that "impressions count"? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;* Why did it take Bush until Wednesday to "cut his vacation short by a couple of days"? (I don't care if it was a working vacation.....he has taken more time than any other President on our history...and IMPRESSIONS COUNT!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;* How can Condi Rice attend social gatherings and Broadways Plays and be seen shopping for shoes? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;The powers that be....regardless of party affiliation....should be at their desks.....behind closed doors......working 20 hour days when a disaster of this magnitude is approaching....and moreso when it arrives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;And there very well may not have been a lack of regard for the poor and the African-American communities in this disaster.....but don't the powers that be realize that IMPRESSIONS COUNT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to be honest, if those states affected were high income, high voter population states, I DO think the pre-planning would have been better....and the response would have been faster. If you don't agree with me, it's ok. But I believe that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Then again, it may have become my opinion simply because IMPRESSIONS COUNT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart broke and I was moved to tears as I watched the reaction of Senator Mary Landrieu when speaking to the press. Here is a copy of an article describing it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, Sept. 4, 2005 10:06 a.m. EDT&lt;br /&gt;Mary Landrieu: I'll Punch Bush, 'Literally'&lt;br /&gt;Sen. Mary Landrieu threatened the president of the United States with physical violence on Sunday, saying that if he or any other government official criticizes New Orleans police for failing to keep civil order in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina - "I might likely have to punch him - literally.""If one person criticizes [our sheriffs], or says one more thing, including the president of the United States, he will hear from me - one more word about it after this show airs and I - I might likely have to punch him - literally," Landrieu railed on "ABC's "This Week."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IMPRESSIONS COUNT. I will never forget this Senator...the lioness. (Perhaps I'll hold him for her as she does it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My prayers and support remain with the victims, regardless of why they became victims. They have to be helped. The "why" can be figured out later....and by God this had better never happen again. Maybe we can't plan for everything....but this disaster was known about....models had been tested....response SHOULD have been quicker.....prevention measures should have been taken. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Blame is everywhere....but compassion must overtake everything else for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112593966749085948?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112593966749085948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112593966749085948' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112593966749085948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112593966749085948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/09/september-5-impressions-count.html' title='September 5 ~ Impressions Count'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112586130592995297</id><published>2005-09-04T12:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.457-08:00</updated><title type='text'>September 4th ~ A hero</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;I have been unable to post since Katrina. I can't seem to do anything but watch the news...and wish I lived closer so I could help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Sending money just doesn't feel like enough. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;All of those people.... it just breaks my heart. I wish I could scoop up a family and take them into our home or something.....but Calif is so far from the disaster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I decided to read a few of my favorite blogs today......and I came across a hero. I'm not asking him if I can post this link to his blog ..... hopefully he'll tell me if I shouldn't have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Read his post of a couple of days ago called "Briefing for Decent into Hell" &lt;a href="http://sttropezbutlersays.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://sttropezbutlersays.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Thank you STB.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And thank you Houston. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"Houston we have a problem" ~ Historically the land of heros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112586130592995297?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112586130592995297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112586130592995297' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112586130592995297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112586130592995297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/09/september-4th-hero.html' title='September 4th ~ A hero'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112549520615510979</id><published>2005-08-31T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>August 31st ~ Girl Interrupted (Ok, I mean "woman"  ~ bite me lol)</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330099;"&gt;For those of you who replied to my &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;brain drain &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;post, I responded to all of you in the replies.  I noticed a couple of other bloggers doing that, and I like that conversational element. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#330099;"&gt;Today is the first day back to school for my munchkins...and it's an insane day for me. I'll add a real post here later today. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112549520615510979?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112549520615510979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112549520615510979' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112549520615510979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112549520615510979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/08/august-31st-girl-interrupted-ok-i-mean.html' title='August 31st ~ Girl Interrupted (Ok, I mean &quot;woman&quot;  ~ bite me lol)'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112490022095687265</id><published>2005-08-24T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>August 24 ~ The brain drain is mainly insane</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ok, so I've been a stay-at-home-Mom for the past 12 years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I can multi-task the best of you under the table. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But I didn't realize that the "non-mommy" parts of my brain were shriveling into hard rocks of dried matter due to lack of use.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Holy Crap. No wonder they tell older people to do crossword puzzles. The brain IS a muscle that needs exercise!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So, I may have mentioned here before that I got myself a little part-time job. It's supposed to be 5 hours per week....but for the first few months it will be more. Partly due to the tasks that need my attention and partly due to my learning curve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I decided to take a class in San Francisco to learn the computer program that I'm trying to use. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I took BART into the City, which was a big deal for me, as I'd never taken it alone before. I'm waiting on the platform for my train having anxiety attacks over the bombings in the London subway. We live in a very diverse community: all ages, races, sexes (yes, I meant to say that), religions. That is why I LOVE living here and bringing our kids up here. Yet, I found myself secretly doing "racial profiling" as I waited for my train. "Do you think he has a bomb attached to his body?" I asked myself at least once. Isn't that terrible? I bitch-slapped myself internally as soon as I realized I was doing it.....but still! (shudder) I can't even believe I'm admitting to it here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So, after recovering from the bitch-slap, I opened a piece of newspaper and strolled onto the train as if I do this everyday. I faked being a commuter. (proud smug look)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;When I got off the train and rode the escalator up to the street all I could see was bright morning blue sky (no fog, can you believe it?) and the stark white tops of skyscrapers. It was GORGEOUS! I suddenly morphed into a Sex And The City character.....or maybe That Girl. (Except I didn't have a cute little hat to throw...dammit.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I had to stand on the street for a few minutes to get my bearings, so I just breathed it all in. (I was in jeans and tennis shoes...but I faked sexy spikey, strappy, shoes and hottie clothes in my mind.) After figuring out where I was, I began walking to my class. I passed a Starbucks and fancy deli's and elegant little shops, museums, and realized I could go into any of them. This might not seem like a big deal to you, but I'm out of practice being by myself. Being alone in the grocery store is just NOT the same thing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;At my class, they served hot coffee, had clean bathrooms, icey water. Damn, it was heaven! :) lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The volume of information I learned was overwhelming. My shriveled-like-jerky-brain was absorbing information as fast as possible, but it couldn't keep up with the flow. By the end of the day, my brain was dripping like an over-watered houseplant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The instructor asked if I had any questions, and I asked for a moment of silence so that my brain could catch up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Hey, I get funny when nervous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112490022095687265?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112490022095687265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112490022095687265' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112490022095687265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112490022095687265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/08/august-24-brain-drain-is-mainly-insane.html' title='August 24 ~ The brain drain is mainly insane'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112387944078821916</id><published>2005-08-12T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>August 12 ~ It Takes One To Know One</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Growing up, I always thought I was wise and mature for my age. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I thought I was always right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I thought I had all of the answers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Not that I'd brag about my great wisdom.   ~ Mostly I kept it to myself, because heaven forbid I'd come across like a bragger, or a know-it-all, or some other schmuckity-ass-brained type of person whom no one could stand to be around. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But internally, I was a superior, all-knowing, being of insight and wisdom.  ~ If people would only ask for my advice.....the world would be a better place.        No one asked. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But hey, not my fault.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Somewhere along the way, I woke up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I can't pinpoint it.  ~ Maybe sometime in my mid-late 20's.... DEFINITELY by the time I'd had kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I used to cringe when I'd see an angry faced mother holding her screaming faced child by the arm in the grocery store. My thinking would waiver from a prim: "If she were consistent in her disciplinary techniques this wouldn't happen"  ~ to a mortified: "That poor child. What an awful parent!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;That was until I experienced what it feels like first hand to have a child go (&lt;em&gt;for &lt;strong&gt;NO&lt;/strong&gt; reason, mind you&lt;/em&gt;) LOUDLY and insanely ballistic in a public place. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Reasoning with the unreasonable doesn't work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;All you can do is leave the location as quickly as possible...at which time the screaming monster becomes boneless...or rigid...or alternates between the two so that lifting him/her looks like a lesson in wrestling.        And the only other problem with leaving.... is that sometimes that is exactly what the little monster wants. You leave: Monster wins. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;If they win once.......they want to win EVERY time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And so it begins... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You find yourself gritting your teeth, trying not to look visibly crazed (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Have you ever felt your pulse in your eyeballs?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), as you drag the screaming monster through that grocery store (&lt;em&gt;which you've put off doing for two weeks due to the dread of this moment&lt;/em&gt;) until you get at least the minimum amount of groceries into the cart...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And then&lt;/strong&gt; try to not burst into tears yourself as you see the cold, condenscending, expressions of the "not yet parents but we'll be so much better at it than you" and the "my kids would never have done that in my day" and the " hasn't had kids, won't be having kids" sets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Oddly enough, after burning 800 calories in sweat while shopping, you get the monster securely locked back into the car seat (&lt;em&gt;which, can be a WHOLE new war zone!!&lt;/em&gt;) and, as you drive home, you look through your rearview mirror at that little monster face now sleeping from tantrum exhaustion.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;all you can do is smile...and wonder to yourself if noon is too early for a glass of wine. (g)&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/12769815-112387944078821916?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112387944078821916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112387944078821916' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112387944078821916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112387944078821916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/08/august-12-it-takes-one-to-know-one.html' title='August 12 ~ It Takes One To Know One'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112367973058959239</id><published>2005-08-10T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>August 10th ~ Stubborn is as stubborn does...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;My middle son can be found in Webster's Dictionary under the word "stubborn".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love him dearly. He is a brilliant, over-emotional, very competitive, pre-teen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what I'm doing. Repeatedly bashing my head against the wall is starting to sound like a good option. Wait....I think I already do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how there are glass half-full and glass half-empty people? How does a glass half-full mom reach a glass half-empty kid? He's not an unhappy kid....he's just cynical and sees the negative before the positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself snapping at him angrily when he digs his heels in and becomes unreasonably stubborn over every small thing in life. This is of course after first trying to lighten him up. I guess I probably become more angry with myself for being unable to reach him than I actually am with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has a wonderful sense of humor, loves all body parts that make noise, has the biggest smile and best laugh (when he is relaxed and not fighting me over something). He's a spectacular student, and well behaved at the homes of our family and his friends (unless he knows the adult REALLY well....then he feel comfortable pushing them into a state of insanity with his stubbornness too).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's a power play....a form of manipulation.....a way of asserting that he is different from his barely older, older brother. (They share a LOT of interests, friends and activities.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to find him his own thing to excel in. I'm sure that would help. Perhaps if he just had his own space to shine in.....where no siblings are in his way to compete with......something that he discovers he loves doing.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck finding it. I'm open to suggestions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112367973058959239?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112367973058959239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112367973058959239' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112367973058959239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112367973058959239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/08/august-10th-stubborn-is-as-stubborn.html' title='August 10th ~ Stubborn is as stubborn does...'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112360138289744411</id><published>2005-08-09T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:30.075-08:00</updated><title type='text'>August 9th ~ Clickity Clack Tickity Tock</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ok .... Is it just me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I noticed that the sound of my bones clicking in my ankles, knees and shoulder as walk in the mornings puts me in a medatative state.  It's very Zen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Some people prefer birds chirping....or the "OHM" sound....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;but me.......clickity clackity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112360138289744411?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112360138289744411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112360138289744411' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112360138289744411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112360138289744411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/08/august-9th-clickity-clack-tickity-tock.html' title='August 9th ~ Clickity Clack Tickity Tock'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112336073335208708</id><published>2005-08-06T13:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>August 6th ~ Mind Over Matters</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Turning 40 was rough for me. (I'm 42 now....or maybe 43.....no...42....jeez I can't add. Yeah 42.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I was really hung up about about not being able to say: "I'm in my 30's"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I could remember my Dad's 40th Bday party, fergawdsakes!  I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;t freaked me out completely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But, with age comes wisdom....right? Right!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So, now I'm discovering some exciting things about myself and I realized that THIS is what makes aging rather fun, and what makes me crazy about some of the people in my life. They have already discovered the magic. They know how to use it. I'm still learning, but getting better at it every day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The magic involves the following:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You stop caring about what other people think of you ~ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;instead, you become comfy within yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You learn to say "no" gently, mean it firmly, and can resist the guilt that wants to make you say "yes".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You know your limits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You have confidence in your abilities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You are able to express your sexuality...(sly grin) (Yeah, ok, so I'm sorta enjoying being in seductress mode. lol)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You have developed friendships of the heart that matter...and don't worry so much about those that don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You have forgiven your parents for not being perfect and have come to terms with your own imperfections.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The list goes on..but you get the gist of it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So, I was thinking, if the 40's are this good.....wow....the 50's will be phenomenal! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112336073335208708?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112336073335208708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112336073335208708' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112336073335208708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112336073335208708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/08/august-6th-mind-over-matters.html' title='August 6th ~ Mind Over Matters'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112300065482701969</id><published>2005-08-02T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'>August 2nd ~ Mind if I moon you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;OK...Check this out! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://moon.google.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;http://moon.google.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Another reason to like google! And make sure you zoom all the way in before you leave the site. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112300065482701969?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112300065482701969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112300065482701969' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112300065482701969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112300065482701969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/08/august-2nd-mind-if-i-moon-you.html' title='August 2nd ~ Mind if I moon you?'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112284106209147823</id><published>2005-07-31T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.857-08:00</updated><title type='text'>July 31st ~ Copy Catter meow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I saw a list of personal info on Clandestine's Blog....I liked it....so I'm doing it too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So much for being original....but I'm still nekkid! &lt;g&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I have many nicknames. I love them all. It took me a long time to love my real name.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My hair is long, wavy, brunette with the occasional silver strand, and I tend to wear it in the style my daughter refers to as "princess hair" : pulled back with a pretty headband. I need a haircut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I drink alcohol occasionally. Love good wines, make a killer Mai Tai, and sometimes a cold beer just sounds so good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I can't stand telemarketers or sales people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I can never find anything in my house. I lose my keys every 15 minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'm disorganized....but I'm a self-inflicted perfectionist....Yeah, it's hard for me to understand too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I love email and the computer, occasionally go into "chat rooms," and I think the internet is one of the greatest inventions of all time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I love water....drinking it.......swimming in it......hearing it......seeing it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My house is messy.....but not dirty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'm honest to a fault and believe in "what goes around comes around" and in making your own good karma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I believe in God and think He believes in me and I do not believe that any "religion" is the right one or the only real one or the best one. To me all are different variations of the same thing. Different expressions of spirituality all focusing on good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I am a great cook.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I am loyal and faithful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My kids are my greatest accomplishment, and my biggest source of stress and worry, and my greatest joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I LOVE sex. (Not just because I'm nekkid) I really really do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I love bawdy humor and hate racist humor or humor at someone else's expense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I laugh loudly, cheerfully, happily&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'm over-sensitive and and my worry button doesn't always shut off when it should.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I cry easily....when happy, sad or angry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I love passionately. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112284106209147823?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112284106209147823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112284106209147823' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112284106209147823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112284106209147823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/07/july-31st-copy-catter-meow.html' title='July 31st ~ Copy Catter meow'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112248308196727496</id><published>2005-07-27T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>July 27 ~ So I'm nekkid on a horse...what of it? :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Hi again. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;After my whine of yesterday....I decided I needed to add a little cheese...so to speak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I've noticed that many bloggers have spectacular blog pages.....with links and pictures and movies and bells and whistles...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'm obviously still a novice.. lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So I was thinking I needed a picture for my profile....and I didn't want a "mommy" picture...because.....well.....frankly I'm so often in "mommy mode".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And I DO have a sexy, quiet, bawdy, xrated, submissive, dominating, I'll swallow, no please yes,  blushing side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It occured to me after reading a wild little list of wants on another blog....that I need to let this side of me escape more.  THIS is where I was out of balance.  lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Hubby is going to be a lucky lucky man .... &lt;g&gt;    Sometimes life's big questions have light-hearted easy answers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112248308196727496?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112248308196727496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112248308196727496' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112248308196727496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112248308196727496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/07/july-27-so-im-nekkid-on-horsewhat-of.html' title='July 27 ~ So I&apos;m nekkid on a horse...what of it? :)'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112239098748502355</id><published>2005-07-26T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.614-08:00</updated><title type='text'>July 26th - I've popped my cork; whine anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Someone please tell me this is just hormonal......the onset of menopause.....something......ANYthing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I don't know if it's all me or if it's hubby too. We're like oil and water lately....which is very unusual for us. An occasional disagreement is one thing....but for the past week or three every time we speak to each other there is a misunderstanding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He says it's me.....and angrily declared that I "need help" this morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Maybe it is.....maybe I do......I have no idea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Last week we went camping with the kids to Lake Tahoe. It was incredible on many levels. The weather was perfect....we did many fun things....and that particular place on earth relaxes me like no other. Literally, I get out of the car, breathe in the scented air, and feel calm. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But even there we were nashing at each other. Not over everything....but much more than normal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I did not want to come home. I tried to convince the family that we should stay one more day. The thought of coming back to the ratrace of home, with tackling Mount Washmore, and Karate lessons, and bills to pay without money to pay them, and the part time job I'm doing that I'm still low on the learning curve on, etc etc etc...... I just wasnt ready to come back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But everyone else was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So instead of just accepting that fact....I made them all suffer. Not intentionally.....but I was suffering internally over it. I felt almost desperate to not return to real life....and so my eyes kept welling up with tears....and I felt snappy towards everyone that whole last day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I was reading Ro's blog the other day, looking at them all swimming with dolphins and thinking about how that has always been a dream of mine. In fact, in 8 years..when I turn 50....that is what I'm asking for for my birthday. I'm planning it now so we can save. But what occured to me as I was reading and looking at the pics, was that she has found balance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I think that might be my problem. For some reason I'm out of balance in some part of life....and I can't seem to find a footing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The trouble with that theory is....I don't know where I'm out of balance. I stay home with the kids, I only work part time, we do fun, affordable things as often as possible, I take off one weekend a year and escape with my gal pals, I'm in a bookclub I love, our kids are funny smart wonderful people, I have the world's best husband, I'm spiritual...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;so what is wrong with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;help...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112239098748502355?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112239098748502355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112239098748502355' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112239098748502355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112239098748502355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/07/july-26th-ive-popped-my-cork-whine.html' title='July 26th - I&apos;ve popped my cork; whine anyone?'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112161090329428909</id><published>2005-07-17T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.535-08:00</updated><title type='text'>July 17th ~ Procrastination Queen</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You know that ABBA song, Dancing Queen? I need to rewrite the words for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Procrastination Queen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Mind not clean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; (A good subject for another post :) )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Way over seventeen....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;etc etc... lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;You see, the thing is, I got myself a job. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It's part time. ~ 5 hours a week to not be in "Mommy Mode".... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;This is a good thing (spoken in my best Martha Stewart voice lol) .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But I work from home... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;DO you hear me??? I WORK FROM HOME!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And that measly 5 hours needs my FULL concentration...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ok.....for those of you who are channeling Martha.....you may not understand this........but HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT GET DISTRACTED?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I sit down at the computer, cup of hot coffee in my hand, smiling to myself over what I'm about to accomplish.....and &lt;em&gt;voila&lt;/em&gt; ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The phone rings....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So I don't answer it, wait til it stops ringing, sign onto the computer so that my phone is busy and I won't get any calls.....and &lt;em&gt;voila&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I begin wondering about things I can look up on the web....or I see a friend I feel like instant messaging....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So I turn off my computer sounds, and go back into the field I need to be working in........and &lt;em&gt;voila&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;What's that smell? Did I accidentally leave a load of laundry in the washer? Shit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So I redo the laundry, sit back down at the computer (my coffee is cold but I try to ignore that).......and &lt;em&gt;voila&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The doorbell rings. It's the kindergarten crew looking for my daughter.....I know it....so I don't answer the door. They'll go away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;DING DONG &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;DING DONG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; DING DONG DING DONG &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Good Lord......so I answer the door, give them a band-aid, explain where my daughter is, let them use the bathroom, give them a cup of water, let them borrow our 4-square ball, AND SHUT THE DOOR after they promise to not knock for two hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;DING DONG&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"What?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"But will she be HOME in 2 hours? Do you have a napkin? We're getting a new dog. I saw Free Willy last night! My sister had McDonalds."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;How is anyone supposed to work? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I need a nap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112161090329428909?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112161090329428909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112161090329428909' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112161090329428909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112161090329428909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/07/july-17th-procrastination-queen.html' title='July 17th ~ Procrastination Queen'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112135743211943820</id><published>2005-07-14T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>July 14th Again ~ The Longest Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My boys are away at Scout Camp this week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Sunday (I hope they didn't forget anything! "Pants" wasn't on the packing list. We discovered that 5 minutes before they left. They hadn't packed any pants...), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Monday (I wrote to them),&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Tuesday (I mailed them gluey, red crayon colored hearts from their sister),&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;(I was doing ok til this point)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Wednesday...(arggh the "Missing Them" factor began kicking in...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Thursday....(JEEEZ how many more days until Saturday are there??)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'm SURE they are having a blast...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;and don't need me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;That's good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Mostly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Time is going too damn fast! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Except for this week....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112135743211943820?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112135743211943820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112135743211943820' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112135743211943820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112135743211943820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/07/july-14th-again-longest-week.html' title='July 14th Again ~ The Longest Week'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112040183260181185</id><published>2005-07-03T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'>July 1 ~ A Groovy Love :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We met at a video dating service.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It wasn't that we couldn't get a date.  It was a tactical decision for both of us....for different reasons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I was at the dating service location viewing the videotapes and profiles of those who had "selected" me....and viewing the tapes and profiles of those I wanted to "select."  The annonymity of the process made asking someone out, or being asked out so much less stressful.  You could select, accept, or reject, without ever seeing each other.  The attention was so flattering and so non-threatening ~ it was great.  I'm sure most of the members felt the same way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;As I walked back to my car that day, I heard a voice behind me calling my name.  I looked back, but didn't recognize the man.  It was R. It took me a minute.  I realized I'd just "accepted" a date request from him, so I laughed at my inability to recognize a face and we talked in the parking lot for a few minutes tentatively setting up a date for the next weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;When I got in my car to drive away, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the sensation that I really wanted to date this person. I can't really explain it.  It was this weirdly intense feeling that came out of the blue. He was following behind me in his car as we wove our way towards the freeway going to our respective homes.  When we came to a red light, I decided I had to let him know that I was looking forward to our upcoming date.  I jumped out of my car, walked back to his, and said, "Will Sunday work for you?" And his surprised face smiled and said, "Yeah. How about a picnic?"  I said ok ~ and he said he'd call me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He decided to take me to San Francisco for the picnic.  As we drove into the city I found myself laughing the entire time.  He was charming, seemed VERY smart, and so nice.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I was thinking  to myself, "He's so funny!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He was thinking ,"I can't believe she's laughing at these jokes I've known since the 4th Grade!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Little did he know, I'm a sucker for stupid jokes and 4th grade humor.  I still am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Before finding a picnic location, he took me on one of those 1 hour bay cruises that go under the Golden Gate Bridge.  We stood on the top deck, leaned against the railing, looking at the city and the bridge, both covered in August fog, and talked.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And talked...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And talked.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The more we talked, the more ....(jeez what would the right word for this be?).....overcome.... with the sensation that I need to know this person I became.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;We had sooooo many things in common.  Big things. HUGE things. It was a connection that there are really no words for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Later, we tried to weave our way into Golden Gate Park for our picnic.  He was looking for the little lake where people row boats.  (Looking back on this now....knowing how he loves SF, but hates to drive in it....I can't believe we even went there. lol)  We never found the lake, but did find a beautiful grassy clearing, surrounded by trees.  As he set up the picnic he'd brought,  I was stunned.  Not only was there wine and glasses, but he'd brought gourmet baby grapes, and all of these fancy cheeses, cracker, etc etc etc....  It was the sort of picnic basket Oprah or Martha Stewart would do.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;NOT at all what I expected.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He told me later that he wanted to impress me.  Why? I don't know...but he knocked my socks off with that one.  I'm the kind of person who's happy in a ponytail, comfy clothes, enjoys a deli sandwhich, shops at Target....and probably would even if I were wealthy.  He is very similar to me in that regard, I sensed that from the beginning.....so it was obvious he'd put extra thought and effort into this.  I was feeling almost giddy at this point. lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He drove me home, left me at the door of my apartment with a promise to call.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I ran to the phone to call my sister, my mom, anyone.....I was bursting with excitement from this date.....I had to tell someone right that minute.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But as soon as the phone was picked up on the other end, I heard a knocking on my screen door.  I looked around the wall and saw R standing there.  I threw the phone down with a breathlessly yelped, "Call ya back!" and tried to calmly go open the screen door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"I forgot something," he said as he walked in the door and kissed me soundly on the mouth...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"I'll call you," he said as he walked back out the door....and I stood there dumbstruck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ok...it was just a kiss, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Except my entire body felt like it'd been struck by lightening. My legs began shaking......my body began trembling......my brain went fuzzy.....  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I had to go lie down.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I am not the "Southern Belle" type!  lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;As soon as I got my head screwed back on, I rushed to the phone to call my Mom.  I had to tell someone this story!  My brother informed me that she and Dad were out for dinner, so I asked what restaurant.....hopped in my car and drove there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Slipping into the booth with them, I said, "Hi!  I just want you both to know that I've just met the man I'm going to marry."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;They laughed.  I'm sure they thought I was just excited and being dramatic...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I was never as sure of anything in my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And I was smart enough to know better than to tell R of my revelation.....because I knew he'd have to figure it out on his own.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He did.  :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Happy 16th Anniversary, Dearly.  You still give me cobwebs. &lt;happy&gt; Growing old with you is the greatest journey of my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I love you. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112040183260181185?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112040183260181185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112040183260181185' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112040183260181185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112040183260181185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/07/july-1-groovy-love.html' title='July 1 ~ A Groovy Love :)'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-112018010241891947</id><published>2005-06-30T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>June 30 ~ Just Breathe</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'm what people think of as a postive person. I usually work hard to make sure everyone is happy, having fun, conflict free...yaddity yaddity ya....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;What's happening to me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Maybe it's an age thing. Have I become an old woman? Is 42 old? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My patience has lessened, my tolerance for ignorance has gone out the window, I'm cranky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;arghhhhhhhhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Maybe it's just been a rough week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Did you know that if you decide to donate the organs of your loved one, they take the body away while still warm, breathing and hooked up to machines? You don't get to hear the last breath?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Not that I'm knocking organ donations. I can't imagine a more loving gift. But .... &lt;shudder&gt;I just can't imagine....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;so maybe that's why I'm cranky. My mind won't shut up. I keep imagining the things I can't imagine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I had my 3 beautiful nieces staying with me for a few days. They are the same ages as my kids...and the 6 of them really love each other. However, after 3 or 4 days together 24/7..they all turn into lunatics. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"You said you wouldn't fight my guy! &lt;sob&gt;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Uh, they are playing Game Cube.....isn't that what the game is all about? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"Time for everyone to go outside! You all need some air. Here are the bikes. Here is the basketball."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"We're bored."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;flopping&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;They're gone now. Think it's bad that a glass of wine while sitting under a waterfall sounds good? I don't have a waterfall. I wonder if the neighbors would talk if I set a chair out on the lawn and turned the sprinklers on myself.......sipping wine.....gazing at the tree. la la la. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I bet I'll be one of those very, very old women who chews on her shawl while rocking in front of the window.... day dreaming about the waterfall...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-112018010241891947?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/112018010241891947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=112018010241891947' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112018010241891947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/112018010241891947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/06/june-30-just-breathe.html' title='June 30 ~ Just Breathe'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111971461969920361</id><published>2005-06-25T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'>June 25 ~ Jonathan :(</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Baby Jonathan isn't going to make it :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I got the call late yesterday...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;apparently his heart stopped for a few minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;and after they revived him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;the other side of his brain began swelling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;eventually cutting off all bloodflow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;There is no chance of survival.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;His family is devastated...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;there was so much hope even though he hadn't yet come out of the coma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Life is so fragile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Hug your kids&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Hug those you love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Thanks to all of you who have kept him in your thoughts and to those who've sent me messages. (hugs to each of you) Your thoughts and prayers have and will continue to support the family as they go through this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111971461969920361?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111971461969920361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111971461969920361' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111971461969920361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111971461969920361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/06/june-25-jonathan.html' title='June 25 ~ Jonathan :('/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111962794894838652</id><published>2005-06-24T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:29.037-08:00</updated><title type='text'>June 24th ~ Barf boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;I wonder if it's a reaction to the vacinnes he got yesterday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My 11 year old was up all night with a fever and throwing up.  His arms are killing him from the injections.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Poor kid :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It's kind of weird though, when one of the kids are sick, I notice that there is an unexpected silver lining:  Those middle-of-the-night conversations.... one on one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Even though he was moaning and feeling lousy....he talked to me, you know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Without interruption of an older brother or younger sister....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;nice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Hopefully it's just the flu...and not a reaction.  I'm crossing my fingers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He needs some barf-free sleep time.  So do I actually... lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111962794894838652?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111962794894838652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111962794894838652' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111962794894838652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111962794894838652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/06/june-24th-barf-boy.html' title='June 24th ~ Barf boy'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111953995163682225</id><published>2005-06-23T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>June 23 ~ Jonathan update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On Sunday, they were told he wouldn't survive. Doctors should never underestimate the power of a dickens.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;When Mom talks, his blood pressure goes up...his feet wiggle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;When Dad lightly tickles his belly, a little wisp of smile crosses his face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And yesterday, when the neurologist flashed the pen light into Jonathan's eyes he turned and said to the family, "He's in there.  He'll make it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;:) :) :) He may have a long road of therapy to recover, he'll have to relearn to walk and talk, they don't know the extent of his brain damage...but he's in there.  He will make it!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And for anyone who has seen those gorgeous long eyelashes, barely concealing the visible superhero who thrives inside of that kid.....there is no doubt!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Thanks to all of you for your good thoughts and prayers :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111953995163682225?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111953995163682225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111953995163682225' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111953995163682225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111953995163682225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/06/june-23-jonathan-update.html' title='June 23 ~ Jonathan update'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111941431526533814</id><published>2005-06-21T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>June 21 ~ Jonathan</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He's only 18 months old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;One of those adorable, big doe eyed, little terrors who thinks he can keep up with his 3 older brothers...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Anything they can do, he can do better...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;His parents watch him like a hawk, but he slips out of their sight now and then for a moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;We all know the type....he'll have a few scraps and stitches and broken bones before he's grown.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;On Sunday Jonathan tried to climb a backyard play structure. He was on the bottom wrung of the ladder, slipped and fell backwards onto the grass. It wasn't soft plush grass...more dirt with a sprinkling of green weeds. He landed on the back of his head. He'd had stitches in that same area of his head a few months ago when he fell off of a table he'd climbed on. When he fell on Sunday he screamed loudly and by the time his Dad ran the 7 steps it took to reach him, Jonathan was unconscious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;A blood clot in his brain ruptured.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He's had brain surgery. He is in a top-notch children's hospital. He's supposed to wake up. He hasn't. PLEASE pray for him, or send him positive thoughts and good wishes, long distance Reiki, or anything you believe in... Thank you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111941431526533814?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111941431526533814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111941431526533814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111941431526533814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111941431526533814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/06/june-21-jonathan.html' title='June 21 ~ Jonathan'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111834752076905391</id><published>2005-06-09T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>June 9th ~ That's Entertainment!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I have that "mooshy mommy" look stuck on my face right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Today was the kids' Talent Show at school. This is the only year that the three of them will be at the same school together...so they did a "group act"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Sing? Dance? Instrument? you ask.......lol &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Oh no....not my munchkins. A skit of course! Comedy or bust! lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My kindergardener's best friend did it with them. It was a comedy act where the person standing in front has the arms of the person behind them. So the set of girls and the set of boys put on a hysterical 2 minute show....including putting on lipstick in the end. It was a riot. My daughter said, "and now I'm going to put on makeup!" The girls did it daintily, even with the arms restriction....My oldest son then said "Make up is for girls!" and then "No!! No!!!! Noooooo!!" as his arms (my middle son) put lipstick all over his protesting face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The kids in the audience loved it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So did I. :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;( I can't spell...and can barely form a complete sentence for some reason today....so ignore my typos, por favor!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111834752076905391?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111834752076905391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111834752076905391' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111834752076905391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111834752076905391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/06/june-9th-thats-entertainment.html' title='June 9th ~ That&apos;s Entertainment!'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111807062408091644</id><published>2005-06-06T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>June 6 ~ Temptation, Frustration</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Yesterday was my 42nd Bday. Mom sent me a card that said "Happy Birthday 2 year old!" She'd sharpie'd a "4" in front of the 2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Cute :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I wonder how I'll feel when my oldest is 42. Or 16 for that matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I keep looking at my post of June 2nd and thinking that everything else I feel like writing about pales in importance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It's true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'll keep that family tightly in my prayers, and hope for a miracle for them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;and I'll keep writing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;42 made me think of the promises I made to myself at 41....40....39... etc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"By this time next year I'll....."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The promise is always the same, or has been for the past 18 years or so:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;"By this time next year I'll have gotten a handle on my weight."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;In the past week, two of my relatives have had gastric bypasses done. They are sisters. They are excited about their new beginning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I keep thinking "Won't they mourn their food?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I would. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;In a couple of months I'll be the "fastest one" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;That sounds mean. It isn't...it's true. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The sisters tell me that too in an effort to encourage me to take their journey with them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I can't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The risk is too high. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Even though the mortality rates have gotten better, how would our kids deal with "Mommy died because she wanted to lose weight"?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;They'd be screwed up permanently I think. It's hard enough to not screw them up just by being a parent. I don't want to add to the chances.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Besides, I need to do this the "right way"...eat less ~ move more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I hate eating less and moving more. That's why I struggle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Weight Watchers and I have an intimate knowledge of each other. I wish instead of "points" and "core" plans, Weight Watchers could get into my head with the "unwarping" plan. They try. I've joined....oh..maybe 9 times. I keep rejoining because I KNOW their plan will work for me....if I could just unwarp myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Burger King has a poster hung on the outside of their drive thru window that says something like, "You deserve: burgers the way you like it, extra mayo, that sleepy feeling you get after being full of our crap" Ok..that isn't an exact quote....but it is VERY close. If you see the poster, you'll see what I mean. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And it's that line about the sleepy feeling that really irks me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Because I think that's my whole problem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;That sleepy feeling from over-eating, or too many carbs, or whatever causes it, is like a drug! If I'm stressed, or over-emotional....I can get that sleepy,relaxed "i need a nap" feeling. If I'm wound up.....I can get that feeling from fast food, a box of crackers, or extra cookies....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So.....my goal this year is to break myself of the sleepy feeling from my too much food drug. I need to find some other coping mechanisms. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;They've got to be out there. I just need to be awake enough in my life so I can see them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And no more drive thrus... Bite me BK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111807062408091644?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111807062408091644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111807062408091644' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111807062408091644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111807062408091644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/06/june-6-temptation-frustration.html' title='June 6 ~ Temptation, Frustration'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111772103176359946</id><published>2005-06-02T06:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.601-08:00</updated><title type='text'>June 2nd - Glaring Perspective</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I've been reading updates on a blog that tells of a happy little 2 yr old boy who fell into a pool and hasn't regained consciousness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;His family is praying and hoping for a miracle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;So am I. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;There are moments in our lives where something happens in the world, or in the news, or to a family you've read about, and we become forever changed. Forever touched.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Maybe it's because in those moments our perspective is suddenly clear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;We are glaringly reminded of what we have, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;who we love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;who loves us,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;and the things that are truly important in our lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;And the burden of stress or anxiety that we have been living under, and feeling so overwhelmed by, seems almost glaringly self-imposed, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;pointless,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;unimportant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;My thoughts and prayers go to little Josh and his family. They need a miracle. He needs to wake up and throw more oranges. His mommy needs to see him smile at her. Please send him your best thoughts and strongest prayers too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111772103176359946?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111772103176359946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111772103176359946' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111772103176359946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111772103176359946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/06/june-2nd-glaring-perspective.html' title='June 2nd - Glaring Perspective'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111763747003815549</id><published>2005-06-01T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.521-08:00</updated><title type='text'>June 1st ~ Wicked ....arrrrrgh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One of my most favorite books in recent years was "Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West" by Gregory Maguire. I'll never look at The Wizard Of Oz in quite the same way again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we took the kids to the East Coast last October (for our first big family vacation that wasn't in a campground lol) I SOOOO wanted to see Wicked on Broadway! But that would have been a little selfish of me! lol For the kids' first live play we saw The Lion King....which was wonderful! (Except for the Ticket Master disaster!!...which I'll have to write about here one day after I calm down in 4 to 5 years!) It was the right choice for the family. But for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arrrrrghhhhhhhh I still wanted to see Wicked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was so excited because finally it is coming to San Francisco BUT only for 6 weeks! Jeeeez. Don't they know the whole world wants to see it? I called a couple of friends who also loved the book. We figured we'd go on a "date night" with our spouses and see it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARGHHHHHHHHHHH SOOOOooo.... I've been trying to get tickets in the "cheap seats" which aren't very cheap. They're 40.00 a ticket! &lt;groan&gt;I didn't realize that I should have tried on the first day they went on sale. Now the ONLY seats that are left in that section are in the CORNER of the VERY BACK ROW in the highest nosebleed balcony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully it will come back....or they'll add more dates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't feel like spending $80.00 plus Ticket Master's "pillage the public fees" for the worst seats possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monika has a friend who works near the Orpheum Theatre in SF. We thought maybe she'd have better luck going directly to the box office. HA! It was a good thought and worth a try anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me cranky tho. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well....it'll be back....or I'll win the lottery! LOL (Except, I've gotta remember to play that!lol )&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111763747003815549?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111763747003815549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111763747003815549' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111763747003815549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111763747003815549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/06/june-1st-wicked-arrrrrgh.html' title='June 1st ~ Wicked ....arrrrrgh'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111751304495197300</id><published>2005-05-30T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'>May 30th ~ Overwhelmingly Mommy</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was warned that girls can be difficult as they enter their teen years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think everyone forgot to tell me that boys become emotional hormonal maniacs too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I'm complaining .....exactly.... its just that there are days when I collapse from the physically emotional strain of trying to keep everyone on an even keel. It's damn exhausting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our 12 year old son tries to hold everything inside of him.....doesn't want anyone to see when he's upset.....tries to always keep everyone happy.....even if doing that makes him unhappy. And no matter what I say, he can't seem to help himself. He does seem to see the glass as half full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our 11 year old son holds over-reacts to all things. If he stubs his toe, he thinks he has broken his leg. If he gets a splinter, he thinks his finger has to be amputated. He fights back in all things...even if things are going his way. Yet he is warm and loving with kids younger than himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our daughter falls somewhere in between. It'll be interesting to see how she is when she is their age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to buy stock in Tylenol. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All three are brilliant, wonderful, loving, people..... We are lucky to have them. It's just hard to not worry that something we say or don't say as parents may not be the right thing. Logically, I know we're not perfect, and we are doing the best that we can, and that we are good parents. I want so much for them to grow up as happy, healthy people. To know that love and family mean more than any material success. If they have that.....they have it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that means I already have it all. :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111751304495197300?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111751304495197300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111751304495197300' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111751304495197300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111751304495197300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/05/may-30th-overwhelmingly-mommy.html' title='May 30th ~ Overwhelmingly Mommy'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111662195006966168</id><published>2005-05-20T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>May 20th ~ Closing my eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm not really closing my eyes...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;but oh how I want to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I want to let myself believe that Americans would never harm prisoners&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;That we will always be the knights in shinning armour&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;That'll we'll lead other countries in civil and human rights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But every time I open the paper.....or turn on the computer.....or catch a glimpse of TV news&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;my eyes are pried back open.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The majority of US citizens are loving people filled with compassion and humanity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But we aren't being viewed by the world in that way. It breaks my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;We need to do more as a country to bridge the divide ~ to get to the root of our own flaws and fix them. We need to find our commonality with the rest of the world and celebrate it, enhance it, build on it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;and work together not against.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Remember the golden rule? Do unto others.... Have those in power forgotton?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111662195006966168?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111662195006966168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111662195006966168' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111662195006966168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111662195006966168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/05/may-20th-closing-my-eyes.html' title='May 20th ~ Closing my eyes'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111626868050105996</id><published>2005-05-16T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.239-08:00</updated><title type='text'>May 16th ~ Tom Tom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I admit it...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I love reality TV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;NOT ALL of it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;but Survivor, Amazing Race, The Apprentice, Extreme Make-over Home Edition&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;happy&gt;It's bubblegum for the brain. I can watch, enjoy, be moved, effortlessly. Plus, as soon as I feel "too hooked" the show ends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It's a short term commitment. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But what the heck was Tom (on Survivor) thinking? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Don't get me wrong. I'm glad he won. I wanted him to win. He deserved to win.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;HOWEVER.....How could he manipulate Ian so pointedly, that he'd cause Ian to give up a million dollars JUST to regain Tom's respect? They are in a GAME fergawdsakes and NO ONE was without fault. Everyone was guilty of misleading someone at one point or another. Ian may have been thinking of voting Tom off.....but he never wrote Tom's name down. He never actually betrayed Tom. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It's a GAME..how could ANY of them NOT be thinking of all possible scenarios? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;They are there to try to win a million dollars. They all know that going in. I'm sure Tom thought of the same scenarios as Ian.....but either he didn't speak it out loud or the camera didn't show it to us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Tom KNEW he could beat Katie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;He knew it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It would have been a MUCH tougher win against Ian, although, he probably still would have won. I'm just really bugged that he would be so warped that he would not only guilt Ian into feeling so badly for his THOUGHTS but that Tom would even accept the offer of bowing out from Ian. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Sheeeeesh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Tom ~ you were good on Survivor. I was pulling for both you and Stephanie from the start....but you were certainly no saint and your behavior in the end left a very bad taste in my mouth. While I could understand your anger and disappointment with Ian, you profess to being so honorable. Where is the honor in stooping to such a low level of twisted manipulation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Tsk Tsk Tom Tom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111626868050105996?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111626868050105996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111626868050105996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111626868050105996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111626868050105996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/05/may-16th-tom-tom.html' title='May 16th ~ Tom Tom'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111599572715777725</id><published>2005-05-13T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>May 13th ~ Cruelty</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It's odd to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I was reading a couple of popular blogs online this morning and found the volume&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;of vociferous cruelty in people's comments to be deafening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;The same things happens in online chat, I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It's as if the veil of anonymity somehow gives people a desire, and even permission, to say things they would never say to anyone in public. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It's vicious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Is it that anonymity shows a person's true colors? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Or does that anonymity allow some people to "try out" what it feels like to be evil and cruel without any social repercussion?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Or, (even worse to imagine) are there simply a lot of dog kickers out there, hiding behind minty breath and bleached smiley teeth?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'm a glass half full chick. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Always. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I'm going to believe that it's option number two. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But it still pisses me off. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;LOL....this sounds like a cranky Friday the 13th. Time to go cuddle the munchkins and recharge me. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111599572715777725?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111599572715777725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111599572715777725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111599572715777725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111599572715777725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/05/may-13th-cruelty.html' title='May 13th ~ Cruelty'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111586175915842486</id><published>2005-05-11T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.102-08:00</updated><title type='text'>May 11th ~ Science Projects (AKA Urban HELL)</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"&gt;Arrrrrrrrghhhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It's "Science Project Season" here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I don't know how our house survives the trauma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Both boys have been calculating what their year-end Science grade might be if they get an "F" on their Science Projects (for deciding to not turn anything in). They figured that they could still earn a "B" for the year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;They agreed it was worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I put on my responsible mommy hat and made them do their projects anyway. Mean, huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Both projects look good to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;It clearly states in the instructions that the project will be marked down if it looks like a parent helped. You'd think that would take some of the stress off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Instead it makes it worse ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;because of COURSE the parents are going to help.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;at least in some small way.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;at least with advice or suggestions....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt; then you have the added element of: "OMG don't make it look THAT good!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;(sigh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Luckily, when you walk around the school gym, and see your childrens' science projects along with all of the others on display.....a sense of wonder and pride softens the extra wrinkles... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;and eases the migraine hangover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12769815-111586175915842486?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111586175915842486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111586175915842486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111586175915842486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111586175915842486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/05/may-11th-science-projects-aka-urban.html' title='May 11th ~ Science Projects (AKA Urban HELL)'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12769815.post-111573649054823240</id><published>2005-05-10T07:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:30:28.018-08:00</updated><title type='text'>May 10th ~ Ok, so how'd you find me and how do I find you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ok, so I know how to Google celeb blogs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Rosie is my fav. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;She turns off her comments sometimes, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;probably because Blogland can suck you in if you're not careful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Just a guess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I plan to avoid that suckage vortex too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I can do it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am strong. I am invinsible.&lt;/strong&gt; (You're singing now aren't you? &lt;g&gt; )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;But how do I find other blogs? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;How do other bloggers find me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Any why, oh why, would they want to? lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;This is a little like being in outer space and not knowing how to navigate my ship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Houston we have a problem. Houston? &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh Houuuuuston&lt;/span&gt;?? San Francisco? Seattle? New York? &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyone? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hello? &lt;/strong&gt;hello? hello? (ok, is there an echo in here?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&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/12769815-111573649054823240?l=theinediblejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/111573649054823240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12769815&amp;postID=111573649054823240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111573649054823240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12769815/posts/default/111573649054823240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theinediblejourney.blogspot.com/2005/05/may-10th-ok-so-howd-you-find-me-and.html' title='May 10th ~ Ok, so how&apos;d you find me and how do I find you?'/><author><name>Trudy Booty Scooty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15160987292885415937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4641/1097/320/Img_1057resized.1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
