<?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-8837520258786143327</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:42:21.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>~*~Andreas Blog~*~</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-1349742601079219738</id><published>2007-07-11T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T10:16:15.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Small things that matter...............</title><content type='html'>Woke up this morning, barely.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sooooo&lt;/span&gt; tired.  Never staying out until 1100 on a work night again.  No, not partying-babysitting.  Pam called me around 8, asking if I could go to her house and help the babysitter.  The girl was in a panic, b/c Tyler &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; stop crying.  I love Tyler, but when that kid losses his mind.......watch out!!!  When I got there, she had the kids outside, and they were all fine.....sort of.  I felt bad for the girl.  She was only 13, and had no idea what she was doing.  She paled at the thought of changing a diaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At any rate, I stayed until Pam, Rob, Kim and Keith got home.  Lucky bastards; not having to work the next day.  Poor me.  Up at quarter after 5.  Well, I actually slept in-a whopping 15 minuets.  Did it make a difference?  Hell no.  I am a complete Zombie today.  Wonderful.  I wont even be in bed all that early tonight, either.  Baseball tonight.  Thankfully, it is not a late game.  6:15pm.  Home by 8......let Paris out, and straight to bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up James this morning. as I do every morning.  Usually a nice back rub, or I lay on top if him, until her throws me off.  In my more strange moods, I put the cat on him, and lately, I put Paris on his back and let her go to town on licking his face.  Ain't I great?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I woke him up and asked him if he could get up a bit early to let Paris out a little longer then he usually does (seeing as how we lost 15 min already).  No worries.  I went and finished getting ready, and then snuggled down on the bed in my hubbies arms.  He is truly wonderful.  I was being held close, and in total relaxation mode.  ( I could have stayed there all day)  Just as I was about to get up and get out the door, James speaks....."You are so beautiful".  Just that, just out of the blue.  It didn't wake me up at all, but damn, did it ever make me feel good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 2 years of marriage, he still makes me tingle inside, and feel amazing.  I often wonder how people can spend their lives with the wrong person, and always seem envious of us who are with the "right" person.  Thankfully, I found my "Mr. Right", and just at the right time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you, babe.........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-1349742601079219738?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/1349742601079219738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=1349742601079219738&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/1349742601079219738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/1349742601079219738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/07/small-things-that-matter.html' title='The Small things that matter...............'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-7378233281926572746</id><published>2007-06-27T10:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T10:05:53.959-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant, Anniversary, Facebook and more crap....</title><content type='html'>I am really starting to miss my blogging! Note to self-blog more. It actually makes me feel better. Plus, I have documented proof of my craziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I have said it a million times, and I will one day do it. I need to compose my letter to People magazine, and submit the pictures with it. Hopefully, they will accept me, and my next picture posting of myself will be the cover of the magazine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question going around right now (and yes, I am guilty of saying it) how are you NOT on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. I happen to love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Crackbook&lt;/span&gt;. Yes, more appropriate. The guy who designed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Crackbook&lt;/span&gt; is a now a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;multimillionaire&lt;/span&gt; who started it for an Ivy League school. The bastard is making money off my addiction. Well, I can't really call it an addiction. I can live a few days without going on. I check it like I check my email. When I feel like it. It is amazing the people that you find, and that find you. James has had quite a few old friends find him, as have I. I'm not on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Nexopia&lt;/span&gt; or my space...I think making up a name is a little silly. Besides, how do you find anyone? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Crackbook&lt;/span&gt; is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; easier for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How crazy can I really be?  I was talking to one of my co-workers, Amy, about craziness.  Amy just got back from her maternity leave and suffers from &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Baby Brain&lt;/span&gt;.  To be 100% honest, I don't remember how we got on the subject of craziness.  Maybe she witnessed one of my outbursts and rage towards the phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just suffer from &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I-hate-stupid-people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; crazy.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;It gets bad on Tuesday and worse on Wednesday....&lt;br /&gt;Monday: not bad-just had time off&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;grrr&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;stoopid&lt;/span&gt; people&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: I WANT TO REACH &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;THRU&lt;/span&gt; THEN PHONE AND KILL SOMEONE!&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: defeat. realizing i can no longer deal with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;stoopid&lt;/span&gt; people. Is it Friday yet?&lt;br /&gt;Friday: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Ahhhh&lt;/span&gt;. my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;fav&lt;/span&gt; day! Knowing i wont have to deal with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;stoopid&lt;/span&gt; people for 2 days relaxes me and makes me happy.......&lt;br /&gt;See?  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;time line&lt;/span&gt; makes perfect &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;sense&lt;/span&gt;!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Wooo&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;But in really--I never thought I would say this in my life:  I HATE the phone.  Parents with teenage daughters: if you kid is on the phone too much, get her a job as a receptionist.  Problem solved.  Over indulge, and the bad habit goes away.  I understand why people who serve coffee all day want to scream when they see it at home.  And why male &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;gyno's&lt;/span&gt; tend to be single-or have a sexless marriage.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;annimaversarie&lt;/span&gt; to Sandy and Len!!!!!!!  Ya old farts!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I love you both so much, and I hope you had a wonderful day.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Am I done ranting?  Never.....but for now........&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;AHHHHHHHHHHHHH&lt;/span&gt;!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And the phone rang 29 times while I was typing.  That's right, I kept track.  Now who's crazy??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-7378233281926572746?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/7378233281926572746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=7378233281926572746&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7378233281926572746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7378233281926572746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/06/rant-anniversary-facebook-and-more-crap.html' title='Rant, Anniversary, Facebook and more crap....'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-8315868172118906508</id><published>2007-06-18T15:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T08:39:05.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Before and After!</title><content type='html'>I did it! I made lifetime! Before and after pics are located at the bototm of the blog.&lt;br /&gt;Total pounds down: 104.4&lt;br /&gt;Started Weight Watchers: April 15, 2007&lt;br /&gt;Reached Goal: May 5, 2007&lt;br /&gt;Reached Lifetime: June 16, 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only have to weigh in once a month now. I am sleeping in this Saturday!!!! When I started WW, I was still working at Petersen Pontiac, so I worked every other Saturday. For 1 year and 2 months, I have not slept in on a Saturday. If I wake up @ 6:30am this Saturday.....so help me God....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Cheers~&lt;br /&gt;AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-8315868172118906508?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/8315868172118906508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=8315868172118906508&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/8315868172118906508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/8315868172118906508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/06/before-and-after.html' title='Before and After!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-225722269531418977</id><published>2007-06-12T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:46:22.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppy Tails!!!</title><content type='html'>Here are some pics of Paris and her "cousin" Sheeva. Thanks to Nik for the pics (and for the play date!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076415829877391186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RnMNTSAC_1I/AAAAAAAAACE/VReU8CPWBXI/s200/paris1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cutie! Nik put her in a drawer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RnMNfSAC_2I/AAAAAAAAACM/bdOvV7bMMSM/s1600-h/Paris2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076416036035821410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RnMNfSAC_2I/AAAAAAAAACM/bdOvV7bMMSM/s200/Paris2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paris ready to play!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RnMNvCAC_3I/AAAAAAAAACU/VLUfECwiSMc/s1600-h/P&amp;S1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076416306618761074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RnMNvCAC_3I/AAAAAAAAACU/VLUfECwiSMc/s200/P%26S1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RnMNvCAC_3I/AAAAAAAAACU/VLUfECwiSMc/s1600-h/P&amp;S1.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RnMNvCAC_3I/AAAAAAAAACU/VLUfECwiSMc/s1600-h/P&amp;S1.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Sheeva and Paris posing for the Camera!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-225722269531418977?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/225722269531418977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=225722269531418977&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/225722269531418977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/225722269531418977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/06/puppy-tails.html' title='Puppy Tails!!!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RnMNTSAC_1I/AAAAAAAAACE/VReU8CPWBXI/s72-c/paris1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-785733310103568713</id><published>2007-06-11T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:46:22.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Indroducing Paris!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you get when you cross an American Eskimo with a Chihuahua? An &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ameskihauhau&lt;/span&gt;! The sweetest little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bundle&lt;/span&gt; of fluffy cuteness you could ever imagine!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074860351636569922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/Rm2GmiAC_0I/AAAAAAAAAB8/OXM75cov8dw/s200/paris.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Our newest Family member is Paris!!  As much as I despise Paris Hilton, i have to admit that the name suits her all to well.  I went out and bought her a pink collar with "rhinestones" on it.  She is quite bright, and yet, very dumb!  Viper has had to put her in her place quite a few times!  Oh, well!  best way for her to learn who is the boss, and what is right and wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I will post more pics later this week...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;~Cheers!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;AH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-785733310103568713?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/785733310103568713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=785733310103568713&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/785733310103568713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/785733310103568713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/06/indroducing-paris.html' title='Indroducing Paris!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/Rm2GmiAC_0I/AAAAAAAAAB8/OXM75cov8dw/s72-c/paris.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-6179333623459594279</id><published>2007-06-07T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:46:23.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ringing Those Horseshoes</title><content type='html'>My husband has a horseshoe up his ass. He was hit my a fully loaded cement truck on his way home from work, on June 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. All he got was a small cut on his arm. WHEW!!! The doctor fixed him up with a boo-boo sticker. My heart actually stopped beating when I got there. He called me at work told me what happened, and that he was okay. But, when I got there, and saw the Jeep before him....well, I thought my love had fibbed.....he didn't, and I was just happy to see that he really was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. I love you, babe! Don't you EVER scare me like that again!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RmiKUSAC_xI/AAAAAAAAABk/Esm78PprHBI/s1600-h/Jeep02.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073457061266915090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="148" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RmiKUSAC_xI/AAAAAAAAABk/Esm78PprHBI/s200/Jeep02.JPG" width="196" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In this pic, you see the cement truck, and the half ton he was sandwiched in between.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; red Jeep is in the middle....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RmiKpCAC_yI/AAAAAAAAABs/TMmvhOxmSM8/s1600-h/Jeep03.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073457417749200674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RmiKpCAC_yI/AAAAAAAAABs/TMmvhOxmSM8/s200/Jeep03.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A better pic of the Sandwich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RmiK2iAC_zI/AAAAAAAAAB0/z0UeflBZ9IY/s1600-h/Jeep10.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073457649677434674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RmiK2iAC_zI/AAAAAAAAAB0/z0UeflBZ9IY/s200/Jeep10.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Jeep after they pulled the cement truck out of the passenger seat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see all the pics, and what James had to say about the accident visit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="http://members.shaw.ca/wowwulfen/Jeep.html" href="http://members.shaw.ca/wowwulfen/Jeep.html"&gt;http://members.shaw.ca/wowwulfen/Jeep.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;br /&gt;~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-6179333623459594279?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/6179333623459594279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=6179333623459594279&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/6179333623459594279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/6179333623459594279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/06/ringing-those-horseshoes.html' title='Ringing Those Horseshoes'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RmiKUSAC_xI/AAAAAAAAABk/Esm78PprHBI/s72-c/Jeep02.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-1296614846716402689</id><published>2007-06-07T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T10:57:11.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Poem Ever!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;enough money within her control to move out and rent a place of her own, even if she never wants to or needs to...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;something perfect to wear if the employer,  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a youth she's content to leave behind.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a past juicy enough that she's looking forward toretelling it in her old age....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a set of screwdrivers, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a cordless drill, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and a black lace bra... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;one friend who always makes her laugh... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and one who lets  her cry...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;eight matching plates, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;wine glasses with stems, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and a recipe for a meal,  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that will make her guests feel honored... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a feeling of control over her destiny... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;how to fall in love without losing herself.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;how to quit a job,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;break up with a lover, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and confront a friend;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; without ruining the friendship... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;when to try harder... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and WHEN TO WALK AWAY...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that she can't change the length of her calves, the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that her childhood may not have been perfect...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but its over...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;what she would and wouldn't do for love or more... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;how to live alone... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;even if she doesn't like it... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;whom she can trust,whom she can't,and why she shouldn't take it personally... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;where to go...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;be it to her best friend's kitchen table...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;or a charming inn in the woods...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;when her soul needs soothing... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;what she can and can't accomplish in a day...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a month...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and a year...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-1296614846716402689?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/1296614846716402689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=1296614846716402689&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/1296614846716402689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/1296614846716402689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/06/best-poem-ever.html' title='Best Poem Ever!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-5768395383350339973</id><published>2007-06-05T14:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T15:24:28.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You are never to young to start lying about your age....</title><content type='html'>Happy Birthday to me! Happy&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt; 26&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; birthday to me! That's right. Another year of being 26. How will I ever &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;survive&lt;/span&gt;? I hope that being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;almost&lt;/span&gt; an hour late for work is not going to be a premonition about the year to come. This past year has been pretty great. I just hate the thought of getting older! My neighbour actually thought James had a new wife! They really didn't see me all winter (sitting on the deck when it is -25 is NOT my idea of a good time), so I guess losing 104 pounds makes one look different! And younger! I bought a scratchy the other day and got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ID'd&lt;/span&gt;! SWEET! They lady was really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt;. I thanked her. And told her I loved her. Was that overdoing it? I don't understand something...maybe I am crazy. When I was younger, i couldn't wait to look older, and BE older. Now I AM older....I want to be younger! I know the old saying...you are only as old as you feel. Well, at the age i feel, it makes James a pedophile.........&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I use Oil of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Olay&lt;/span&gt;. I use the night gel around my eyes. I was noticing that I am getting wrinkles. Made the mistake of telling James that. Now he teases me about it.&lt;br /&gt;I pulled a grey hair yesterday. That was bad. Even worse, it wasn't my first. I found my first one January 2003. Is it sad that I remember that? Not really. I was helping Jill plan her wedding, and it was just before James and I got together. A weekend I will not forget.&lt;br /&gt;I know that aging is part of life, and there is nothing I can do about it. I also know that Since losing the weight I look years younger. But it still hurts to add another candle on my cake. I look at what I have....a wonderful marriage, we own a nice little house, have a demon cat.....we are quite the family. But.....I feel my biological clock ticking...tick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tock&lt;/span&gt;, tick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;tock&lt;/span&gt;. Yes, you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;heard&lt;/span&gt; it, I really want a baby. I lost the weight to have a safe and healthy pregnancy. It just feels like the right time, doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;Should I call it women's intuition? Should I call it psychosis? Should I call it shut-up-and-quit-your-complaining-or-do-something-about-it?&lt;br /&gt;I think I will............&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;heeeeeeeere&lt;/span&gt; Jamesy-Jamesy-Jamesy-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Jamsey&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;~Cheers&lt;br /&gt;AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-5768395383350339973?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/5768395383350339973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=5768395383350339973&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5768395383350339973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5768395383350339973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/06/you-are-never-to-young-to-start-lying.html' title='You are never to young to start lying about your age....'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-5542826702627239734</id><published>2007-06-04T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:46:23.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I were a cartoon character, I would be.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RmSTtSAC_wI/AAAAAAAAABc/ZuOoCYgFhlw/s1600-h/180px-Shrek_donkey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072341486461452034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RmSTtSAC_wI/AAAAAAAAABc/ZuOoCYgFhlw/s200/180px-Shrek_donkey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;YUP!!! My carachter is Donkey!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, I wonder why? Maybe because just like Donkey, I don't shut up? I remember when I went and saw the first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Shrek&lt;/span&gt; movie, my younger sister told me that Donkey reminds her of me. Esp the part when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Shrek&lt;/span&gt; covers Donkey's mouth, and he keeps on talking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Donkey, I think we are both misunderstood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-5542826702627239734?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/5542826702627239734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=5542826702627239734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5542826702627239734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5542826702627239734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/06/if-i-were-cartoon-carachter-i-would-be.html' title='If I were a cartoon character, I would be.......'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RmSTtSAC_wI/AAAAAAAAABc/ZuOoCYgFhlw/s72-c/180px-Shrek_donkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-6409239747298753879</id><published>2007-06-04T13:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T13:56:10.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Sunburn, Icky things, Dirty Girl!</title><content type='html'>Oh, what a weekend! In a nutshell: I'm burnt, screamed like a girl, flashed the hubby and got filthy. Had enough? Need more info.....here we go.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went and weighed in Saturday morning. Down 1.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; pounds. Total of 104!!!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Woot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;! I still would like to lose another 6 pounds, and have 10 pounds to "play" with. I wore a sundress on Saturday, one that I wore about 8-9 years ago. Fit pretty good! James liked it! And Sandy was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; impressed. After I got home from WW, I cooked breakfast for James and I (ain't I a good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;' wife?), had some veg time (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ahhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!) and got ready to go for coffee with Sandy. Saturday was a GORGEOUS DAY (28 degrees C)so, James and I took the top off the jeep. It takes the 2 of to carry the f-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; hard top. So we put it in the shed, and I bend over to walk out under it. I'm almost out of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; shed, and James says "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, don't look". Well, duh. So what do I do? I freaking looked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;interrupt&lt;/span&gt; my story here, and jump back &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; time.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;About a month ago, I went to the shed to get some round up, and grass seed to touch up the lawn. I opened the shed and realized that just piling crap in there all winter was a bad idea. So I got pissed off, and cleared everything out, and NICELY put everything back in. Now there is a place for everything and everything in it's place. As I was putting down the grass seed, and killing the weeds, I noticed 2 small holes going under the shed.......yup, mice holes. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Blech&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So I looked. There it be. A dead mouse. Not only is the nasty thing dead, but SQUASHED!!! We moved some boxes around to support the weight of the hard top. Yes, I squashed a mouse!! NASTY!!!! So I see the dead flat mouse, realize what I did, and run screaming out of the shed! I am not a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; screamer, but I screeched my head off. James had never seen that side of me before. He was quite entertained! My strong manly husband used a shovel to dispose of the body. Whew!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So, we head down to Denny's to meet Sandy, and scoot over to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Jax&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; for coffee. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Soooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; nice out! Spent the afternoon drinking coffee and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;scaring&lt;/span&gt; James. He is going to skip coffee next week. To much talk about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; things. Poor James. He really should be used to it by now, right Sandy? what a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;wimp&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;James and I were going to drive around for a little but, but saw some heavy rain clouds coming in. So we get home, and grab the damn top out of the shed. James and I have developed quite the technique to getting this thing on and off. Putting it on is pretty easy. We carry it back to the back of the jeep, and slide it on until James just has to support it while I just to the door and hop inside and pull it towards me. As it gets closer, I squat down and adjust it while he pushes. Usually works great. Not Saturday. I learned a very important lesson. One should not do this while wearing a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; short little sundress. James got quite the show. He said he really didn't mind, tho........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Last weekend I sat out on the deck for an hour and burnt my chest. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt;, I didn't learn my lesson. Maybe I thought that b/c it was hotter this weekend, I might be immune? Nope!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I decided to weed out my weed garden, and get it ready to be a flower garden. How hard could it be? DAMN HARD!!!! The morons that we bought our house from did not do a thing for the lawn or garden. When we moved in last year, we had about 3 blades of grass and the rest was dandelions. 3 bottles of Weed and Feed did the trick! The garden was a mess, too. Last year, all I did was PULL the weeds. This time.....I dug. I spent about 4 hours digging and pulling. I ended up taking off my shoes, and just sitting and kneeling in the dirt. By the time I was done, James &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;literally&lt;/span&gt; had to carry me to the bathroom. I was FILTHY!!! My shower poof is kinda dark and stained from the amount of dirt i scrubbed off. Oh well, at least I got most of the weeds out! Plus, all the rusty nails, screws and thumbtacks are gone (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;??). 4 hours in the hot sun playing in the dirt. Ya, burnt to a crisp! Way worse then my front. Hopefully this will go into a nice tan. And then I will match!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Note to self, by sunscreen. And don't let James take it to the roof of some skyscraper downtown. At least whoever else goes up there won't get burnt!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cheers to Paris! Hopefully Big Bertha makes you her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;bi-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;atch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; while you are in the clink. Use you head, its that giant thing 3 feet above your ass.....don't drink and drive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;~That's Hot&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;~AH ;p&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-6409239747298753879?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/6409239747298753879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=6409239747298753879&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/6409239747298753879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/6409239747298753879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/06/more-sunburn-icky-things-dirty-girl.html' title='More Sunburn, Icky things, Dirty Girl!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-5605598138442818820</id><published>2007-06-01T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T10:58:05.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF!!! and a MacT</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ahhhh&lt;/span&gt;. Thank God it's Friday! What a long (read: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;looooooong&lt;/span&gt;) week! So very tired. James flew to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kelowna&lt;/span&gt; on Monday, and got back (late) last night. So in 2 weeks, I have seen my husband for 5 days. Not even 5 full days. looking forward to getting a decent nights sleep. I have sleeping issues when James isn't home. I tend to think the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Boogeyman&lt;/span&gt; is coming to get me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. I think i just have gotten so used to sleeping next to a WARM body!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I woke up James when I was ready to leave for work, just for a quick cuddle and hugs! He sprung the news that he had a present for me! Well, I just love presents! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;YAY&lt;/span&gt;! So James ran out to the Jeep and brought in his laptop case. I asked if I was getting a used laptop case....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had to tell me the story that went along with the present.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James was standing in the airport, waiting to get on his flight. He was looking around and saw a familiar face. Walks up to the guy and says: "Excuse me, aren't you Kevin Lowe?" The man looks at James and says: "No, I'm &lt;a href="javascript:void(0);/*1178143777143*/"&gt;Craig &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;MacTavish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;" -Now something like this would only happen to my James!&lt;br /&gt;So, after talking for a little bit, James let him know that I am a HUGE hockey fan---so much that I turned him into one. James asked if he could get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;MacT's&lt;/span&gt; autograph for me, and he agrees. So James starts looking for something for him to write on, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;MacT&lt;/span&gt; tells him not to worry-he has some pictures. You have to laugh at that one.....carries around pictures of himself. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. Really, a good idea! I know have an 8"x10" picture signed........&lt;br /&gt;"To Andrea, All the Best, Craig &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;MacTavish&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No offence, but, I already have the best...........&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Baby-and it's not even my birthday yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Cheers~&lt;br /&gt;AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-5605598138442818820?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/5605598138442818820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=5605598138442818820&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5605598138442818820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5605598138442818820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/06/tgif.html' title='TGIF!!! and a MacT'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-3531845710240510583</id><published>2007-05-28T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T08:11:41.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Party (!!),a sunburn and a good weigh in!</title><content type='html'>A hoy hoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my weigh in on Saturday May 19th was sooo not cool. I was cocky, and gained 1.8. EEP!!! I didn't track, and I was stoopid about what I ate. Doh. So, this past week, i got me arse into gear! Yes, I will admit on Monday, i wasn't 100% good. I drove James to Jasper on Monday (hurrah for Long Weekends!) as he had to work there for a week (lucky). We hit A &amp; W on our way out of Sherwood Park. MMMmmm. It was nummy! And very not good for me! Although, I do order my Sausage and Egger with no cheese. That does make a difference, believe it or not! Anyway, so we made it to Jasper with out &lt;em&gt;to&lt;/em&gt; many problems ( I saw a moose "sleeping" on the side of the road, covered in "ketchup". I think he wasn't very comfortable when he first laid down, so he took off his head)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to Jasper, took a LONG deep breath of the fresh mountain air, and drove the town for a bit. then we headed south to one of our favorite places in Jasper, the Athabasca Falls. So beautiful there! We staked out a good spot, and settled in for a picnic. Now, anyone who has been to a party at my house, knows that I overdo the food. ya, we had enough for about 5 more people. We had a nice lunch: Pitas, LOTS of veggies and "low fat" potato salad. Then we parked on one end of the main drag, and walked ALL the way down, and ALL the way back. That was about 1.5 hours of walking! SWEET! For the rest of the week, I was super good, and it paid off! Lost 3 pounds this week! Total down is now: 102.8!  Sweeeeet!  Still wanting to lose another 7.2 pounds....security.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After weigh in on Saturday, I cooked a yummy breakbast for James and I, and did a little work around the house.  I decided to take advantage of the GORGEOUS weather, and sit outside with a book.  Threw on some shorts and a halter top, and went out to bake!  I tried to read, really, I did, but the sun was so soothing, I ended up dozing.  James would come out and check on me every once in a while, to make sure I wasn't burning.....no burn, no burn, no burn........uh, I think you might be getting a little pink.  By this time it was too late.  I have the funkiest tan line.  I was wearing a regular bra with my halter top, so my shoulders look funny, but the best part is my chest.  I was wearing a necklace.  I now have the chain and the heart charm shaped on me.  Cute.  Makes for a good conversation starter.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was!  Went to Cindy's parents house out by Devon to celebrate her birthday, and had a blast!  I swear, I have more fun, and entertain more people when I am sober.  I have no inibitions, and really don't care if I look like an idiot.  I look like one if I try to be, or not.  lol&lt;br /&gt;The only bad things about the party......the dope smokers (James and I were sitting down wind) and the awkwardness from being around 2 certian people.  Hmmm I wonder who I am talking about..............&lt;br /&gt;My sunburn was one "hot" topic that night!  Everyone had a good laugh over it.  It was such a beautiful night, and when sitting by the fire, there were no bugs.  Kudos to James for playing guitar and keeping us entertained.  You did a great job, baby!  Next time we go camping, we need to make sure you bring it along..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-3531845710240510583?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/3531845710240510583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=3531845710240510583&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/3531845710240510583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/3531845710240510583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/05/party-sunburn-and-good-weigh-in.html' title='Party (!!),a sunburn and a good weigh in!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-2919306979783223573</id><published>2007-05-23T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:56:08.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evil people deserve Evil things to happen to them....</title><content type='html'>I have to send this out to all the Jackass's out there. One in particular....For my own safety, I would like to state that this is not directed at James (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;, I love you, babe), but someone else. You know who you are.......in fact, we all know who you are..........&lt;br /&gt;Vows are not meant to be broken. (However, there are exceptions to the rule)You took a vow to love and honor this person. Sleeping with someone else BEFORE you marry him/her, is not honoring them. Neither is sleeping with a different person after you get married. Yes, you read that right. One affair BEFORE the wedding, and a different one AFTER!! Perhaps you need to reread the bible....."Do not commit adultery".&lt;br /&gt;You were married in a church, and though I am not a religious person, I do believe that if you are married in a church, you had best be following the rules of that church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I offer this ancient Navajo curse:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;May you, stark naked, take a flying leap at a woman and hit a large cactus instead.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-2919306979783223573?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/2919306979783223573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=2919306979783223573&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2919306979783223573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2919306979783223573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/05/evil-people-deserve-evil-things-to.html' title='Evil people deserve Evil things to happen to them....'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-2996077511179306817</id><published>2007-05-22T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:57:04.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrics..........</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;I had to copy these lyrics onto my page. Cheesy, I know, but I first heard this song right after I saw how good my sister looked after she hit Lifetime at Weight Watchers. It made me realize how bad i wanted it, too, and how hard I needed to work.................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Her face is a map of the world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is a map of the world &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can see she's a beautiful girl &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She's a beautiful girl &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And everything around her is a silver pool of light &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The people who surround her feel the benefit of it &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It makes you calm &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She holds you captivated in her palm &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suddenly I see &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is what I wanna be &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suddenly I see &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why the hell it means so much to me &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suddenly I see&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is what I wanna be &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suddenly I see &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why the hell it means so much to me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I feel like walking the world &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like walking the world &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can hear she's a beautiful girl &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She's a beautiful girl &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She fills up every corner like she's born in black and white &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Makes you feel warmer when you're trying to remember &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What you heard &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She likes to leave you hanging on a wire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Suddenly I see &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;This is what I wanna be&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/8837520258786143327-2996077511179306817?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/2996077511179306817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=2996077511179306817&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2996077511179306817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2996077511179306817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/05/lyrics.html' title='Lyrics..........'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-1734820451667318207</id><published>2007-05-22T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T10:05:49.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is with 10 years?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I am super addicted to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;.  I have no issues admitting this.  It's a fun way to kill time-FAST!!!  I love looking around, checking out other peoples pics, what they are up to.  The whole kit and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;kebang&lt;/span&gt;.  I also signed James up on it.  Goodness knows he would never do something like that.  He has strange issues about stuff like that.  Anyway, rarely does he log on, and check to see whats going on.  As the good (read nosy...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;) wife I am, I check his site for him, and let him know what is going on.  So, on Sunday night, I pop onto his site for him.  *WOW* A new friend request!  In the past, the friend requests have been for old school chums.  Not this time.  Her name was Jodi something-something.  I look at James and ask him who this is.  I have never seen someones eyes almost fall out of their head.  I am talking eyes as open as Homer's mouth when he is going for a double &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Krusty&lt;/span&gt; burger.  Now my curiosity is peaked.  I ask James who this is.  Well.....(insert suspenseful music here) Jodi is one of his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ex's&lt;/span&gt;.  In fact, she is 3 of them.  Remember my post on his crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ex's&lt;/span&gt;????  Well, Jodi is her birth name.  Depending on the day and the tide, she could also be Cassandra or Lucy.  Ironically, it has been 10 years since they parted ways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 years after breaking up with Samantha (well she was moved away from him), she showed up at his parents house.  She scared the be-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;jeebers&lt;/span&gt; out of his family.  Trust me, this is not an easy task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 years after breaking up with Mel, she calls.  She had to explain to James why she treated him so "funny" after they broke up.  Her new boyfriend (turned into husband-turned ex husband) was saying bad things about him, and she believed it.  And told other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 years after Jodi.....she found him on face book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to ask who's next.  I don't get mad at this (except Sam....whole other story).  As a matter of  fact, I think it's funny.  All the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ex's&lt;/span&gt; show up, and see how well he is doing with his life.  All the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ex's&lt;/span&gt; that he told that he would never get married, and never have children.  Well, I broke him of one bad saying.  Working on the other one.  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....Who's Next?  Sounds like a game show.  I should start betting some cash. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one thing that has queered out both James and I: Jodi has 2 friends on her friends list that James knows......his ex best friend Monica and his ex Lisa.  I wonder if they have ever compared notes on him....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;rotflmao&lt;/span&gt;.  Monica is.....well.....from what I gather, a different person.  I met her when James and I first started dating.  I think it was a five minuet meeting.  If that.  James was very adamant about us not meeting.  She meets his girlfriends, and becomes their best buddy, and if any problems arise, Monica takes the girls side.  Incidentally, she is also an ex of one of the band members....and she HATES the band.  Thinks Cindy is sleeping with every one.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Riiiiight&lt;/span&gt;.  Tell me ALL about it, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Cin&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, James and Lisa broke up ALMOST 10 years ago.  When will the day come?  I guess Lisa will let us know.  The bets thing about all of this......his last relationship before me ended about 2 months before we started dating.  (Emotionally, it was over when it began.  He stopped liking her when he got to know her).  So, James and I have been together for 4 and a half years.  5 and a half to go, baby, and you are home free!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least none of the girls can feel alone in this.....they have all done it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Cheers~&lt;br /&gt;AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-1734820451667318207?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/1734820451667318207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=1734820451667318207&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/1734820451667318207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/1734820451667318207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/05/what-is-with-10-years.html' title='What is with 10 years?'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-470700299482933730</id><published>2007-05-16T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T10:16:48.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What an athlete......</title><content type='html'>Go me.  I am the best athlete in the world.  I should be going to the Olympics!&lt;br /&gt;Riiiight.&lt;br /&gt;I joined the company softball team.  Nice little extra bit of exercise, plus alot of fun.  I played softball alot when I was younger, so, I figure it would all come back to me.  Ya, but no.  First of all, I throw like a girl now.  What's up with that?????  I also swing the bat like a girl.  I never used to be "scared" of the ball.....I'm not "scared" now.....HOWEVER (!!!!) What if?  What if I am playing short stop and go for a grounder, and get whacked in the face.  Receptionist with a black eye.  Cute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up sucks!  Being a kid, I wasn't scared of getting hit with a ball.  Oh well if i was hurt.  Maybe i would be able to miss some school...sweet.  But, being a grown-up, I realize if I get hurt, and I can't work, bills don't get paid, responsibilities don't get taken care of.  Or I suck it up and come to work hurt.....like today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya, I yoinked BOTH my quad muscles yesterday.  Like I said, I am the ultimate athlete.  I got to the diamond a little late, so I just started stretching my COLD muscles.  Great.  Note to self....arrive at field EARLY to do quick run, and stretch the WARM muscles.  Stretching cold muscles is the worst thing you can do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned my lesson... I have a moderately sore right leg, and a dead left leg.  If i need to move my leg while sitting down, the good old arms pick up the dead leg and move it.  Standing up?  That's fun.  Picture a 90 year old women who is 9 months pregnant, trying to stand up.  Thank God I have armrests on my chair.  I am just so happy I sit all day.  Score one for my bum!  It is getting its full use today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My lesson of the day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Growing old is mandatory.  Growing up is optional.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;~~I am stuck right between them.  Talk about a being in between a pickle and a hard place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~Cheers~~&lt;br /&gt;AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-470700299482933730?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/470700299482933730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=470700299482933730&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/470700299482933730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/470700299482933730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/05/what-athlete.html' title='What an athlete......'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-7309337422163593834</id><published>2007-05-08T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T08:43:24.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Steak Dinner, Roses, Rainbows.  What an anniversary!</title><content type='html'>What an amazing day, yesterday!&lt;br /&gt;I was edgy all day; just wanted to go home and spend the night with my husband of 2 years!!!!  Finally the clock moved to 5, and I bolted out the door.  I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sobey's&lt;/span&gt; to pick up the final fixings for a BBQ steak dinner, and raced home to get the BBQ going.  I got inside the house, and was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;greeted&lt;/span&gt; with an enormous hug, and a big kiss!  As if that wasn't enough.....the kitchen was clean, and so was the living room.  James told me to look at the kitchen table.  There they were:  One Dozen Long Stemmed Baby Pink Roses.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ahhh&lt;/span&gt; Heavenly!&lt;br /&gt; Yesterday was by far the best BBQ day of the year.  Out of of all the BBQ steaks I have done (and there are lots!!)  This one was by far the best.  James and I ate and ate and ate.  The best compliment he gave me:  "This was and $80 restaurant quality meal"  --I think he married me for my BBQ skills!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Dinner, we started &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tidying&lt;/span&gt; up the kitchen, and I noticed the rain had started.  Went outside, and saw the rainbow--and then rainbows!  We had a double rainbow; the main one was so brilliant that you literally could see EVERY color.  Standing on our deck, we could see it end to end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an amazing anniversary!  So far the best we've had.  Cheers, baby, to this and MANY more to come.  I love you, forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-7309337422163593834?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/7309337422163593834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=7309337422163593834&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7309337422163593834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7309337422163593834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/05/steak-dinner-roses-rainbows-what.html' title='Steak Dinner, Roses, Rainbows.  What an anniversary!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-1119656997405696571</id><published>2007-05-07T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:46:23.917-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Look at all the Dylans!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/Rj9HAUge7YI/AAAAAAAAABU/qatOZRDB8A4/s1600-h/Feb+2007+156.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061842577018252674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/Rj9HAUge7YI/AAAAAAAAABU/qatOZRDB8A4/s200/Feb+2007+156.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have to share the FUNNIEST story! Mom took Pam and I shopping on Saturday, to celebrate both of us reaching our goal weight. ( We've lost 168 pounds between the two of us)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I go over to the mall, and find them in Rickie's/Bootlegger. Dad (poor guy) was sitting outside with Tyler, looking bored to death. Dylan spent his time running back and forth, looking for us, seeing what we were trying on, and running to Dad to get some chicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at one point, Dylan came running in, asking where his mom was. I told him that she was trying on some clothes, and showed him where she was. Well, right in between the 2 dressing rooms, was a mirror. It was a 3 piece mirror, angled to show you every side. So Dylan looks at it, goes up close, and says--in awe-- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yaya&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; me) look at all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dylans&lt;/span&gt;!  It's amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;proceeded&lt;/span&gt; for the next 5 min to look at himself, and count all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Dylans&lt;/span&gt;.  If that wasn't funny enough......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked to his right, and saw another Dylan, looking right at him (GASP!).  He told that Dylan to quit looking at him.  Then he told that Dylan to quit talking to him.  have you ever seen a 3 (almost 4) year old fight with himself in a mirror?  I just about died laughing!  I even added a few snorts for good measure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, Dylan?  You will NEVER win an argument with a 3 year old.  I know, I've tried!  You're the best kiddo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-1119656997405696571?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/1119656997405696571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=1119656997405696571&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/1119656997405696571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/1119656997405696571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/05/look-at-all-dylans.html' title='Look at all the Dylans!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/Rj9HAUge7YI/AAAAAAAAABU/qatOZRDB8A4/s72-c/Feb+2007+156.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-6986014968205853664</id><published>2007-05-05T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T13:02:24.058-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I did it, I did it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>I DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it's true. I hit my goal weight.&lt;br /&gt;Total pounds down...101&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to EVERYONE for all the support thru this LOOOOONG journey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started April 15, 2006&lt;br /&gt;Finished May 5, 2007&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-6986014968205853664?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/6986014968205853664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=6986014968205853664&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/6986014968205853664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/6986014968205853664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-did-it-i-did-it.html' title='I did it, I did it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-2425142931835831863</id><published>2007-05-01T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T13:18:59.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Do NOT Have The Right To Stink!</title><content type='html'>This is a public service post, brought to you by ME!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the first face you see when you walk into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;AMEC&lt;/span&gt;. I get up at 5:30 every morning, have a shower, do my hair and makeup, brush my teeth and dress nicely. I remember to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;deodorize&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;every&lt;/span&gt; morning, and spray on a light dusting of perfume. I am ready to go. i look good (I hope) I smell good, and i have fresh minty breath.  Just in case my breath might get stinky later in the day, i always have gum.  I have a pack in my purse, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;pack&lt;/span&gt; in my desk and one in the car.  I'm prepared!  i also carry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;deodorant&lt;/span&gt; in my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so I manage to smell good, and make sure my breath is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.  I know most of my friends do, too.  So what is up with the rest of the world???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, a delivery man came in to the office.  I swear, the guy must have pooped in his pants.  He REEKED!!!!!!  I had to hide my gagging--something that is NOT that easy, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;btw&lt;/span&gt;.  I also get the "old man" smell quite often, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;extreme&lt;/span&gt; B.O case, and the "I haven't brushed my teeth in a hundred years" person.  Come on.  Personal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;hygiene&lt;/span&gt; is not that hard.  I admit, that on occasion, I have been fairly smelly.  This is when I am sicker then a dog, but I will drag my ass into the tub, and clean myself.  As a plus, a steamy bubble bath makes me feel better.  Again, when I had mono, and the back of my throat was black and white (not kidding on this one) i had nasty breath, and not even the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;strongest&lt;/span&gt; gum would kill it.  Couldn't be helped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends ex was a stinker.  She literally had to scream at him to shower.  And she is the cleanest person i know.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt; he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;stained&lt;/span&gt; the mattress.  Buddy, have some respect for others around you.  maybe you can't smell yourself, but we sure can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lesson to all men....women have a better sense of smell then men.  Did you know that?  Showering is a turn on.  So is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;deodorant&lt;/span&gt;, cologne, minty breath and nice finger/toenails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah...Another rant.  ONLY women look good with long finger nails.  Long toenails on ANYONE is just nasty!  If you can climb a tree with those toe-claws, cut 'em down!  I'm not saying all men have to get a manicure (it would be nice), just trim them down!  And by trimming, I mean use a nail clipper, not your teeth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, please, please pass this along to anyone who smells.  There is nothing worse then a stinky person with even &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;stinkier&lt;/span&gt; breath leaning over the counter to get in your face while talking to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if someone backs away from you, take the hint!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smell ya Later&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-2425142931835831863?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/2425142931835831863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=2425142931835831863&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2425142931835831863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2425142931835831863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/05/you-do-not-have-right-to-stink.html' title='You Do NOT Have The Right To Stink!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-8044177983648966513</id><published>2007-04-28T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:46:24.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Pic!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RjPK9Ege7XI/AAAAAAAAABM/QaCnZwIg4eQ/s1600-h/IMG_1410.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058609956998016370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RjPK9Ege7XI/AAAAAAAAABM/QaCnZwIg4eQ/s200/IMG_1410.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;James and I  after his April 21st show.  I was down 96.2 pounds here!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As of April 28th, I am down 98.6!!!!!!!!  I have 1.4 pounds to goal.........I &lt;strong&gt;WILL&lt;/strong&gt; get it next weekend!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-8044177983648966513?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/8044177983648966513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=8044177983648966513&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/8044177983648966513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/8044177983648966513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/04/new-pic.html' title='New Pic!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RjPK9Ege7XI/AAAAAAAAABM/QaCnZwIg4eQ/s72-c/IMG_1410.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-7425504762701761998</id><published>2007-04-18T13:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T13:11:57.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sitting and pouting only works if you are two...</title><content type='html'>Ok, if you REALLY hate your job, hate your working conditions and feel you deserve more money, what do most people do?  QUIT!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Common sense, right?  I have HATED some jobs before.  When I was working at Denny's, I hated it.  Well, only at the end.  I hated getting up to go to work, I hated being there, I hated talking about it, and most of all, I was starting to hate myself.  I stuck it our for the last 6 months, and quit.  Why did I suffer that long you ask?  Well, I was getting married and wanted my holiday pay.  A month after I got back from the Wedding and Honeymoon, I took great pleasure in handing in my 2 weeks.  That was the second best day of my life.  (Second to marrying my soul mate)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Analogy:&lt;br /&gt;You are dating someone and really don't like them, they treat you like crap and don't reciprocate what you do for them.  Do you dump them?  HELL YA!!!!!  Well, unless you are so insecure that you put up with it for a while, and just bitch about it to everyone but the significant other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, James and I were at West Ed on Sunday.  As we were leaving, we crossed the picket line into the Casino.  That's right, we are Scabs.  And damn proud of it, too.  So we crossed, got some mild harassment, and went in.  Walked the Casino, talked about playing the VLT's and decided not.  I have the worst luck in the world, so why bother.  As we were leaving, we noticed the sign posted just inside the Casino.  Very nice little message stating that the Casino apologizes for any inconvenience we may have while crossing the picket line....yadi yadi yada.  It also says that not all of the picketers are casino employees.  some are support staff from the UFCW.  Also, that the striking workers are NOT allowed to have any physical contact, and if the harassment goes to far to notify security.  Hmmmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we are leaving this nasty hippie guy gets in my face and tells me next time to support the workers.  Why should I?  Give me one reason why I should!  It is Alberta for crying out loud.  Find another job.  I'm sure that You didn't go to school to become a Blackjack Dealer, or a VLT cleaner.  lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very much against unions.  I will never be a part of one.  I do have empathy for those who go to University, spend thousands of dollars to get their degree, and are in a position where being in a union is not a choice.  Well, you can refuse to join the union, but you aren't able to work, and have just wasted a couple of years and a whole lot of money.  My younger sister is a LPN.  She spent years in school to achieve her dream, and I am damn proud of her for that.  So should she give up her dream just because of the union BS?  NO!  My brother in-law is also in a Union.  Can he just up an quit?  Nope.  He has a family.  Plus, he isn't making minimum wage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when you work at Safeway, the Casino and any other place that requires you to only have a firm grasp of the English Language and be able to count to 10 without using your fingers or toes, you can quit and find another job.  I think 85% of the stores in West Ed had a Help Wanted sign in their window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have supported those on strike before.  To an extent.  Nurses have gone on strike.  Well, I would like to be taken care of by a happy nurse, rather then a bitchy one who has the tools to kill (or severely harm me).  What about you?  I would like to be taught by a teacher who enjoys their job, rather then be flunked by one who is trying to prove a point-teachers are over worked under paid.  Students flunk when this happens.  --THATS WHAT MUST HAVE HAPPENED!!&lt;br /&gt;I noed that i was smrter than dat!  lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I finish my rant, I would like to point out that there is no right or wrong on this side.  However, this is MY blog.  So I'm right.  lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quitting is for Quitters.  I would rather be a quitter then sit outside my job and pout about not getting my way.&lt;br /&gt;~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-7425504762701761998?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/7425504762701761998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=7425504762701761998&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7425504762701761998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7425504762701761998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/04/sitting-and-pouting-only-works-if-you.html' title='Sitting and pouting only works if you are two...'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-5183747402238674335</id><published>2007-04-18T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:46:24.315-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More pics....told ya I would get 'em up.  Now I need some NEW ones!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RiYpt_g50MI/AAAAAAAAABE/-_bfY12325w/s1600-h/edmontontrip2006019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054773501890252994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RiYpt_g50MI/AAAAAAAAABE/-_bfY12325w/s200/edmontontrip2006019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another Yucky pic! This was taken by my MIL November 4th, 2006. She came to visit from Pittsburgh. I can't wait to see her again, and show her whats left of me....lol.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was down 44.6 lbs here&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-5183747402238674335?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/5183747402238674335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=5183747402238674335&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5183747402238674335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5183747402238674335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/04/more-picstold-ya-i-would-get-em-up-now.html' title='More pics....told ya I would get &apos;em up.  Now I need some NEW ones!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RiYpt_g50MI/AAAAAAAAABE/-_bfY12325w/s72-c/edmontontrip2006019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-5690863359498157905</id><published>2007-04-16T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:46:24.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some pics.........</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RiOZv6HWWfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/zUuPccNGozM/s1600-h/IMG_0487.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RiOYg6HWWeI/AAAAAAAAAAU/csC-B-HhjNI/s1600-h/December+2006+061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054050897963145698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RiOYg6HWWeI/AAAAAAAAAAU/csC-B-HhjNI/s200/December+2006+061.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;--------- Ok here's a Pic, from the begining of December, 2006. I was down 53.6 pounds. Note the cubby cheeks, and the double chin.... (You can see half of my hubby's face, my dad in the back, and Tyler is the shorty reaching for the balloon. Celebrating his first birthday) &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is 27.6 pounds diff here. Personally, couldn't see the difference&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RiOapKHWWhI/AAAAAAAAAAs/tVa_VcunaxA/s1600-h/IMG_0487.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054053238720322066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RiOapKHWWhI/AAAAAAAAAAs/tVa_VcunaxA/s200/IMG_0487.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                    ---------&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is From Dylans birthday, back in August. I was down about 26 pounds. Felt good until I saw this pics. You can't really see much of me here (hubby blocking me...whew!) At this point I avoided cameras. I knew I was losing, but was still depressed about my weight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***More Pics to come****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-5690863359498157905?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/5690863359498157905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=5690863359498157905&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5690863359498157905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5690863359498157905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/04/some-pics.html' title='Some pics.........'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RiOYg6HWWeI/AAAAAAAAAAU/csC-B-HhjNI/s72-c/December+2006+061.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-4485992689236996682</id><published>2007-04-16T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T18:52:50.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, What Shall my Title be?  So Many to Chose From......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, so my last post was on Wednesday. Where do I begin? Thursday....I'm at work, same old same old. UNTIL (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;suspenseful&lt;/span&gt; muzak, please) a client walks in the door. We look at each other...I know I know him, he knows he knows me. But from where?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!!!!! Mr. Reeves! I was best friends with his daughter from the time we were 2 until we were about 14&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Blast from the past. Told me to Check Kim's website out. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ooooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. She lives in Australia and got married in Hawaii. So gorgeous. Don't get me wrong, I loved my wedding. But to have a beach wedding.....so bee-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;yoo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-ti-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday....oh! James and I went to the Trade Show @ &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Millennium&lt;/span&gt; Place. Surprised at how HUGE it was. Also, I think we were supposed to pay to get in. Oops. Well, I was just about beaned in the head with a small football. Yes, allowing 13 year old boys to play catch right were people walk is the BEST idea. I hope I have kids just like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we did the walk, checked out the booths. Walked past the booth for Camp &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Maskepetoon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;! Saw my first crush. *Sigh*. i think I blushed! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. James and I kept on going looking here and there, me getting a lolly from the nice Police Man (thanks, sweetie for opening it for me). &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Tra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; la la. I was in my own little world (as I usually am), and suddenly James says " Well, there is a face I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; seen in a while". Hey! It's Jamie and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Raffi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;! Back from the Land of Oz! Jamie &amp;amp; James became friends back in High School, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Raffi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is her husband. They met in Aussie, and have been gone since January. Missed most of OUR winter, and got MOST of their summer. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;....Could I be more jealous??? YES!!!!!!!!! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday. Weigh in day. (Add ominous music here) YEA!!!!!!!!! Down 2.2 pounds. Less then 5 to go!!! The subject of this weeks meeting: Fear. What is your fear of Weight loss? The most obvious ones came up first...Will I be able to keep off the weight? Stuff like that. Well, mine is "Will I ever LOOK skinny in my own eyes?" Yes and no. With my clothes on, I think i look pretty good! Hell, I've lost &lt;strong&gt;95.2 pounds in a year&lt;/strong&gt;. I better look good. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, clothes on, GOOD! Clothes off.....well, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; another story. I have a little bit of extra skin hanging around. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, a LOT of skin! Best way to describe it...have you ever blown up a balloon and deflated it right away? Does it ever go back to it's original shape? There you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday. James and I went SHOPPING!!!!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;YAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; for shopping. An d we were good, too! He bought some new shirts, I bought some new shirts. I am very proud to say that I bought 3 new shirts. All the same size. MEDIUM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That right! I wear a medium!!!! I found one shirt that I really liked at Bootlegger for $10. Showed James. He told me to try it on. I fought saying it wouldn't fit. He made me try it on. I slowly come out of the room.....not only does it but, but it looks pretty good, too! A medium! I don't remember the last time I was a medium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I figure about 2 more weeks of Weight Watchers, and then Goal. I just put some pics up, not the best, as I am hiding in most of them. i became the camera &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;avoider&lt;/span&gt; for a while.... I know I have some from when Darlene (my MIL) was up in November, so I will post more later.&lt;br /&gt;Until we meet again....or until I find the urge to babble.&lt;br /&gt;AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-4485992689236996682?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/4485992689236996682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=4485992689236996682&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/4485992689236996682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/4485992689236996682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/04/oh-what-shall-my-title-be-so-many-to.html' title='Oh, What Shall my Title be?  So Many to Chose From......'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-4614659980419270092</id><published>2007-04-11T05:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T02:46:24.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RhzYvKHWWdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tKO6Ji5g4N8/s1600-h/marilyn+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052151186683484626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RhzYvKHWWdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tKO6Ji5g4N8/s200/marilyn+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now This is an Idol to keep. I love the body image.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-4614659980419270092?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/4614659980419270092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=4614659980419270092&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/4614659980419270092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/4614659980419270092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/04/now-this-is-idol-to-keep.html' title=''/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z61vFjyf7LA/RhzYvKHWWdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/tKO6Ji5g4N8/s72-c/marilyn+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-5313172940957722697</id><published>2007-04-10T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T05:44:34.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy?  I was Crazy once.  They put me in a rubber room.  There were Rats there.  Rats?  I hate rats!  They make me Crazy!  Crazy?  I was....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Crazy! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. I took a sanity test at work today. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Doo&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dah&lt;/span&gt;. Didn't go so well. Who knew that randomly making animal noises makes you crazy! At least it scares off Seagulls.....right Jill? &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;BACAW!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;! My poor Jamesy-poo! Has he ever been with anyone that is SANE?!??!?!?! Let's see.....the girl with 3 personalities (how COOL is that?) The one that was never happy around him, &lt;strong&gt;and&lt;/strong&gt; changed her personality to match his, the Bulimic-Suicidal Head Case,-- and who can forget the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Mohawk&lt;/span&gt; girl who "liked" me but thought I was to "Vanilla". Couldn't believe that one! James told me that, and I was all "I'm not VANILLA!! I'm Rocky Road!!!" Note to self-think before you speak. James thought that I meant....well..... that I liked her back. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Riiiiiight&lt;/span&gt;. I think Mohawks, piercings on the bridge of your nose, and the back of your neck, are just so damn sexy. oh baby oh baby. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;. Could someone PLEASE hold me back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to me, and my crazy self. I took the Crazy Test&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="http://www.selectsmart.com/FREE/select.php?client=" href="http://www.selectsmart.com/FREE/select.php?client=howcrazyru"&gt;http://www.selectsmart.com/FREE/select.php?client=howcrazyru&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I found out, that yes, I am Crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Your Results:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Your prediction for you Nutty - You're very random and very mad.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ahhhh&lt;/span&gt;, wonderful. At least I get to wear a jacket that will allow me to hug myself ALL day, and be in a special room with bouncy walls. I can't hurt myself there. Added bonus, free hairdressing. They'll hook me up to one of those fancy thingies, and it will make my hair stick straight out. Score. I will save a fortune living there. Maybe I will make some new friends!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;challenge&lt;/span&gt; you to find out how crazy you are! Maybe I will see you there! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone else think I have to much time on my hands?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and more last thing.... Dear god, when you finish your lane change, turn OFF your F-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; signal light. I appreciate that you used it in the first place. I really do. I like the 0.5 second notice that you are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;about&lt;/span&gt; to cut me off. so, you have cut me off, and now I have to stare at your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;blinky&lt;/span&gt; light???? I wonder how I got so crazy? Perhaps driving in Edmonton??? Watch out for the potholes. They are full of Gremlins...&lt;br /&gt;TA!&lt;br /&gt;ah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-5313172940957722697?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/5313172940957722697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=5313172940957722697&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5313172940957722697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5313172940957722697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/04/crazy-i-was-crazy-once-they-put-me-in.html' title='Crazy?  I was Crazy once.  They put me in a rubber room.  There were Rats there.  Rats?  I hate rats!  They make me Crazy!  Crazy?  I was....'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-2831333298122331076</id><published>2007-04-10T09:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T09:35:08.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sinful Bunnies, and other bad things...........</title><content type='html'>Damn Stupid Crappy Sweet Sinfully Delicious Turkey Dinner.&lt;br /&gt;7 pounds to go.  Yes, I only lost 1 pound this week.  I had made Turkey Dinner Friday night (Gracias to my Sioux Chefs...)  Mmmmm.  Nummy Nummy.  Mom brought my favorite bottle of Wine.  That was Nummy, too.  Pam brought Fruit Pizza.  Les Sigh.  HOW DID I NOT GAIN??????????  Lol.  Love the pound I lost.  Never wanna see it again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My WW birthday is coming up!  1 Year this Saturday!  I was hoping to be at goal by then.  At least I managed to get myself into my healthy weight range by then.  There is light at the end of the tunnel....I can see the light!  It's getting brighter!  Hmmmm, starting to sound a little scary!  Eeep!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-2831333298122331076?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/2831333298122331076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=2831333298122331076&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2831333298122331076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2831333298122331076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/04/sinful-bunnies-and-other-bad-things.html' title='Sinful Bunnies, and other bad things...........'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-8587625660694118875</id><published>2007-04-04T13:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T13:26:41.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Get out of the way, Dad, I'm cute!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;! Just had to post this story!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad, James and I were in Totem on Saturday picking up all the stuff we needed to put up the gutters on the house. So we had this push cart thingy (lo-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ove&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; my terminology) full of Ten foot gutters, downspouts and some other expensive junk. So, as I am attempting to navigate this thing without killing anyone, and destroying the store. i look up and the BIGGEST black man. No kidding, almost 7 feet tall, and about 400 lbs of muscle. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Eep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I looked at Dad and James and said "Well, wouldn't want to piss him off in a dark back alley, would ya?" Dad turns around, looks at the guy and says Holy Crap! So, we're navigating this thing, and suddenly the guy is right behind Dad. Tells Dad to get out of his way (but it was in a nice tone....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;). Looks at me and says that I'm cute, I can stay. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. After he was gone, I looked at James and said to him "Well, aren't you going to defend my honor??? Go hit him or something". &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Riiiiiiight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Any one remember Bear from the movie Armageddon? Ya, there you go! (check the pic of him @ this link....&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;www.ucmovie.com/images/cast/duncan-cast.jpg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;By far the funniest thing that happened this weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And James still hasn't punched out the Giant for saying that. What a "bad" husband. I love you, baby! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;xox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**~~**AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-8587625660694118875?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/8587625660694118875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=8587625660694118875&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/8587625660694118875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/8587625660694118875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/04/get-out-of-way-dad-im-cute.html' title='Get out of the way, Dad, I&apos;m cute!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-8274680271064485775</id><published>2007-04-04T07:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:46:01.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Skin and Bones</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;. Jill and I went out on Friday night (yes, same night that I ran into someone--read prev. post) I get to her mom's house to pick her up. She says to me: "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ooo&lt;/span&gt;, you gotta come upstairs so I can show my dad how good you look." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hmmmmm&lt;/span&gt;. We all agreed that that wasn't the best choice of words. Poor Jill. We need to get her some more friends that are OVER the age of 4. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;. But we did come up with some kick-ass new nicknames. Anyone who knows Jill, knows that she is super skinny. God works in mysterious ways. The girl eats junk food like no tomorrow....And the cheese! She should be fat and stinky! But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nooooooo&lt;/span&gt;, she's skinny-and smells......&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. Just kidding. She smells fine. (Gonna get my ass kicked for that one...) Anyway, a while back I had shown her my abundance of extra skin. We were talking about that, and she made some joke, so I turned and called her bones. History has been made, folks. We are now known as "Skin and Bones".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I made Blueberry Muffins Sunday night. Turned out pretty good. I could have sworn I had the Muffins and More cookbook. So, I hop on the net, and Google ( I love Google) Blueberry Muffins. Holy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Jebus&lt;/span&gt;! 6 BAZILLION &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;recipes&lt;/span&gt;! So, I took the first one. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Cuz&lt;/span&gt; it looked the easiest. And had the least amount of ingredients. Now, I DID read some of the other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;recipes&lt;/span&gt;. They all said to add the blueberries just before you put them in the oven. I learned why. I'm standing in the kitchen mixing away, and I add the blueberries to the batter-like the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;recipe&lt;/span&gt; said too. Oh, dear god. I am talking BLUE! I called James in, and he laughed at them-and me. Thankfully the blueness went down as they baked, and ended up tasting really good. Whew! Crisis averted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silly BAD Mom. I sent her an email yesterday, asking her if I can swing by their house and pick up the Turkey Roaster pan thingy around 6. Will she be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; with this??? She emails back-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, i will be home. So I get off work, drive home &lt;strong&gt;PUT ON MY WRANGLERS (!!!!!!) --YEA!!!! &lt;/strong&gt;I accomplished my personal goal!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Hondy&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;tonk&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Badonk&lt;/span&gt;-a-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;donk&lt;/span&gt;! Ahem-I digress. Anyway, so I get all the way out to Fort Saskatchewan. It's 6pm on the nose. I don't have a key to the new house, so I ring the doorbell. No answer. I pull the car up to the driveway and stand on the bumper. No SUV in the garage. So, I call mom on her cell. I ask her where she is is. She tells me she's at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Southgate&lt;/span&gt; Mall, and asks where I am. Then she pauses...."oh, no". She suddenly remembers. That's right. She FORGOT ME!!!!!!!! Humph. What if I was being chased by rabid dogs, or the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Boogeyman&lt;/span&gt;? Dude, I could have DIED! It was scary. So, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;toodled&lt;/span&gt; over to Safeway, did my Easter dinner shopping, then hopped over to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Reitmans&lt;/span&gt; and check out what they had. I found some pants that I liked, but, why bother? They will probably be too big in a few weeks. I still had a G/C left over from Christmas, so I figured I might as well use it. I got 3 pairs of socks, 3 pairs of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;earrings&lt;/span&gt; and a necklace. i called James after I left and told him everything that I bought....of course I had to tease him. I played the bad wife, sounding &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;remorseful&lt;/span&gt;, to make it sound like I spent &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;ALOT&lt;/span&gt; of cash. Tee-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;hee&lt;/span&gt;! I spent $1.80. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt; me. I liked that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Reitmans&lt;/span&gt;. Good store. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;, and with Mom and Dad out there, I have a good reason to be out there lots. Sweet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have done the groceries, bought myself something shiny. Now what? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, call Bones. Talk to Bones as I tour the Fort. Quaint little town. So, Bones and I get on the topic of butts. i have no butt left. My hubby however....well, he has a big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;tushie&lt;/span&gt;. He does! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt; it's genetic. Anyway, So I told Bones that maybe our kids would have nicely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;proportioned&lt;/span&gt; asses. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;. The I told her I should stuff tissues down my pants, rather then in my bra. See what James does. Bones tells me that you can actually buy panties that have foam inserts in them. Cool. Until you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;SHART&lt;/span&gt;!!! Nasty! Now you have skid marks on an otherwise perfect pair of panties. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;Doh&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-8274680271064485775?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/8274680271064485775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=8274680271064485775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/8274680271064485775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/8274680271064485775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/04/skin-and-bones.html' title='Skin and Bones'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-5689904513680356316</id><published>2007-03-31T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T10:32:18.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sure Dont Feel Like Spring....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ooo&lt;/span&gt;, I feel so bad. I ran into someone recently. I think I was rather snotty. (I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; like people to think of me as a snob....unless I really want them to.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;  :p )  Not a big deal, but this person was nice to me...a little over the top nice, but still nice. I have a strong &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;suspicion&lt;/span&gt; that she is doing drugs-just had that look about her. Have you ever felt sorry for someone? She could be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, but......sigh. I feel sorry for her.  Why do I always pity people?  Happened before.  too bad that girl turned into a stalking psychopath.  And to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;truthful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I think she fell in love with me.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;EW&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;EW&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;EW&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;EW&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;EW&lt;/span&gt;!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of that!  How 'bout this??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Oooo&lt;/span&gt;, weigh in day, weigh in day, weigh in day, weigh in day!!!&lt;br /&gt;Here we go: Grand Total down is.....(&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;drum roll&lt;/span&gt;, please....) &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;OH, FOR FOX CREEK!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  Is basic math that hard?????  I had 9.6 pounds to go.  I lost 2.8 this week.  So, in theory, I should have 6.8 pounds to go, right? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Noooooo&lt;/span&gt;.  Somewhere along the lines, one of the WW ladies messed up her math by 1.4 pounds.  So, as of right now, I have 8 pounds to go.  I guess I have 3 or 4 more weeks until goal.  Not that big of a deal.  Wait-YES IT IS!!!!  I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; close to losing 100 in a year.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Durr&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so not looking forward to Easter.  Last year was great!  I hadn't started Weight Watchers yet.  I pigged out.  And it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; yummy.  Compliments to the Chef.  Who is also stunning.  this year more then last....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.  Wasn't Easter at my house?  Wasn't I the Chef?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;WOOT&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;Cooking Turkey this year-with all the fixings.  "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;yay"&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Forgive&lt;/span&gt; my lack of enthusiasm.....Dinner is on Friday--weigh in Saturday.  Poo.  So, i have developed a Master Plan!!!!  I will hardly eat on Friday.  Save the points.  Eat light &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;yadi&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;yadi&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;yada&lt;/span&gt;.  And make myself a plate for Saturday, when I get home from my meeting.  It always tastes better the next day....right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and for those keeping track:  Things are happening, things are moving!  Big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Changes&lt;/span&gt; to come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-5689904513680356316?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/5689904513680356316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=5689904513680356316&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5689904513680356316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5689904513680356316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/sure-dont-feel-like-spring.html' title='Sure Dont Feel Like Spring....'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-6825450435257377312</id><published>2007-03-28T09:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:45:25.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>T-Minus 9.....</title><content type='html'>Down to single digits!!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sweeeeeet&lt;/span&gt;! I remember when I was excited to HIT double digits on the losing side. "whew, down 10 pounds" Now it's counting down. 9. something to go. Gonna crack down on myself....I started my journey in halfway &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; April of 2006. In theory I have 3 weeks to lose that pesky 9. something pounds. Can it be done? Only time will tell.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday to my Baby!!! Baby? What baby? My over the hill hubby is more like it. I love to tease him about his age.....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;unfortunately&lt;/span&gt;, he doesn't look 31. Although, I did find something grey on him. Too bad he named it after me.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of my Hubby....he's a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ROCKSTAR&lt;/span&gt;!!!! Thanks to all the girls-and Chris, Roger and Matthew-who came to see Her Alibi rock the stage Saturday night! What an amazing show! Nothing like starting the night off with a good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' bar fight-was I the only one excited by this?? Cindy dazzled us all with her stage presence. James had some kick ass pants on--Truly with an amazing hem line. Looking good on stage, as always, baby! Thanks for laughing at me--at least I do like the music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Next show is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;April 21st, 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Same time, same place. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="http://www.heralibi.ca/" href="http://www.heralibi.ca/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;http://www.heralibi.ca/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the site, download the tunes, and come out to the next show. The band always loves to see new faces in the crowd (hey, I know it-I'm a groupie/roadie) and even more, they love to see the old faces! Inside reports say that the show and effects will be the best you have ever seen....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-6825450435257377312?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/6825450435257377312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=6825450435257377312&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/6825450435257377312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/6825450435257377312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/t-minus-9.html' title='T-Minus 9.....'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-6576391757204015716</id><published>2007-03-22T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:45:00.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it Possible to have a Love/Hate Realtionship?</title><content type='html'>I love you, I love you not.....&lt;br /&gt;As most people would agree with me....the best day of the week is Friday...2 min before you are off work. The anticipation leaves you breathless. Now that Spring has Sprung, and I have balanced my Egg on it's end, I know the snow will melt, and my sandals will emerge from hiding. No, wait, they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;already&lt;/span&gt; did! There is nothing like leaving work on Friday. The air seems fresher, people are happier, and traffic moves well. **GASP** Lurking, there, in the shadows.....comes the enemy. The only thing to make the weekend less of a good time. Do you see it? It's square, white, and always on the floor. My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nemesis&lt;/span&gt;.....the SCALE! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ahhhh&lt;/span&gt;. Yes, it's weigh in day in 2 days. Did I lose 10 pounds in a week? HA! I can only wish. I spend Friday torturing myself. The Muffin Man (yes, I know the Muffin Man. He lives on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Drury&lt;/span&gt; Lane) bring in FRESH, wonderful smelling Muffins and Cinnamon buns. Fresh and warm. 9am every Friday. And they sit beside me until they sell out. Now, I do push them on people, and try to sell them before all my will power gives out. Most of the time. Sometimes, i just give in--eat the forsaken Blueberry Muffin. After I finish the muffin, (and lick up every crumb in site) I spend the rest of my day feeling guilty guilty guilty! The cursed thing was 5 bloody points-and I wasn't even hungry. I already eat EXTREMELY light on Fridays, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;worrying&lt;/span&gt; about the next morning, and how will I fare? Usually, it's good....get up, shower, shave (must rid body of extra hair, could possibly have extra weight on leg hair) and brush my pearly whites--DON'T SWALLOW ANY TOOTHPASTE!! Is it pathetic? Like a small amount of toothpaste &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;foamies&lt;/span&gt; could make me gain weight....mind over matter mind over matter mind over matter! The stress has ended when I step up on the scale, say a quick prayer, open my eyes and will the scale numbers to drop. MY WEEKEND HAS STARTED!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;It started Friday, at 459pm....I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; feel it until I weigh in.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I love the Weekend, I hate the Weekend....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned, the weight update is coming soon. Cross you fingers for me, please!&lt;br /&gt;~~AH ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-6576391757204015716?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/6576391757204015716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=6576391757204015716&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/6576391757204015716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/6576391757204015716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/is-it-possible-to-have-lovehate.html' title='Is it Possible to have a Love/Hate Realtionship?'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-7403177174633227665</id><published>2007-03-21T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T19:19:01.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sign me sign me sign me!</title><content type='html'>Hey Hey hey!&lt;br /&gt;10 POUNDS TO GOAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **dance dance dance***&lt;br /&gt;OOO, Just over 11 months of WW, and I have 10 pounds to goal! I look back at the past year...and shudder! I feel so great, and have tons of energy. Well, not first thing in the am. It sounds conceited, but I LOVE when I run into people that I havent seen in ages...people that saw me last when I was fat. What a shocker. :)&lt;br /&gt;In reality...I still think I'm fat. I guess it is a mind over matter thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (!!!!!!!!!!) leave any comments you may have about my blog. At least I will know if you have read it! I dont care if you are someone I havent spoken to in ages, someone I talk to everyday, purple, orange, 2 headed, or crazy! lol. I will welcome ALL comments, and leave them up....please leave comments that are rated for all ages....&lt;br /&gt;~~Cheers&lt;br /&gt;Andrea&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-7403177174633227665?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/7403177174633227665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=7403177174633227665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7403177174633227665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7403177174633227665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/sign-me-sign-me-sign-me.html' title='Sign me sign me sign me!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-2542056978756828555</id><published>2007-03-13T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:44:36.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I usually detest Monday mornings......Except yesterday! Came into work in a bit of a sad mood, knowing James was going to be leaving for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kelowna&lt;/span&gt; at some point during the day. Also, being Monday, I was a tad bit on the cranky side. Then, out of the blue, one of the ladies at work comes up to me, and tells me how skinny I looked! Well, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;YAY&lt;/span&gt;! And it kept happening......!! I see these people everyday, and suddenly they are all noticing! Huzzah! Unfortunately, I ate enough Chinese Food last night to feed a small village. Did me 200 sit-ups last night to make up for that. Maybe one day I can get rid of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bellay&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Soooo&lt;/span&gt;, official Weight Loss as of Saturday March 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, 2007. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Drumroll&lt;/span&gt;, please......86 Pounds! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Woohoo&lt;/span&gt;! I have 14 more to go until I real Goal! It has been almost a year, and what a year! Talking to Pam about it on Saturday...where we BOTH were at this time last year. Let's see.....James and I were still living with mom and dad, counting down the days until we got possession of our house. Breakfast was home made every Saturday and Sunday am. Now, Every second week, I was working on Sat am, so I missed the BAZILLION calorie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;bfast&lt;/span&gt; (although, made up for it while having the free lunch @ &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Petes&lt;/span&gt;). I digress.....Mom, Dad and I took turns making &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;bfast&lt;/span&gt; (James became the dish pig) ALWAYS a whole pack of bacon, split 4 ways, about 6-7 pieces each, fried greasy eggs, toast with lots of margarine, and home-made &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hashbrowns&lt;/span&gt;. Sometimes we would switch it up and have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Omelettes&lt;/span&gt; or Pancakes...but you get the idea. Super fatty, super horrible, and super YUMMY! And supper time wasn't much better. Sometimes we did have healthy food, but, my usual problem always comes out....I don't stop eating until all the food is gone.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is MY Story&lt;br /&gt;My Name is Andrea, and I am an over-eater-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;aholic&lt;/span&gt;.....&lt;br /&gt;Last March, Pam tried to convinced me to join Weight Watchers....yet, I had every excuse in the book to avoid it. I was moving, I worked every other Saturday (no time for meetings), the moon is made out of green cheese, I tried it before--didn't work.....blah blah blah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to April... James and I are now living in our new house. We are busy unpacking, and going on the odd shopping trip to buy new things for our home. Carefully buying new inexpensive trinkets and AVOIDING the evil nemesis--a Scale. Pam is hounding me to join Weight Watchers...I tell her the truth, that I couldn't afford it. Pam told me that she would pay for it....with the only rule: If I quit, have to pay her back double. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Eep&lt;/span&gt;. Wonderful. I have no self control. Dammit, I for sure thought I would have to pay her back. Even my wonderful, supportive Hubby thought I would quit. I was 237 lbs when I first started. My idea of a good time was sitting down with a big-ass bag of Doritos and a large bag of Peanut Butter M&amp;amp;M's. (Well, it still is).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;suckahs&lt;/span&gt;! You were all wrong! Thanks to all of you, I have 14 more pounds to lose!! I hope you all learned your lesson. No one thought I could do it, and I did!!!! Na-Na-Na boo boo! But guys? Thanks.....&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Pam, (68 pounds down-Life Time member of Weight Watchers)&lt;br /&gt;For your on-going support, your "fat" clothes (that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;STRUGGLED&lt;/span&gt; to fit into, and finally became MY fat clothes), food recipe ideas, and being MY inspiration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks James (my amazing husband!)&lt;br /&gt;You have stood by my side when I started this journey, and you cheered me on the whole way. You also yelled at me lots! Nothing like having a huge fight in Safeway over the bag of chips that I wanted. I love the fact that you pick me up and throw me around.....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;hmm&lt;/span&gt; that doesn't sound very good, does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Mom, (Weight Watcher member...50 Pounds down, and counting)&lt;br /&gt;For kicking my butt into gear by telling everyone you were going to pass me......That encouraged me to hop back on track&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Dad (Weight Watcher follower, down 45 pounds)&lt;br /&gt;For ALWAYS noticing that I am losing, for cheering us all on, and joining on the sly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Nik&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Always being excited at how much I have lost, and for all the support......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out MY inspiration.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="http://www.pamopolis.blogspot.com/" href="http://www.pamopolis.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.pamopolis.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-2542056978756828555?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/2542056978756828555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=2542056978756828555&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2542056978756828555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2542056978756828555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-usually-detest-monday-mornings.html' title=''/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-261856298529174691</id><published>2007-03-12T08:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:43:51.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Goose isnt cooked</title><content type='html'>March 08&lt;br /&gt;The Goose &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; cooked&lt;br /&gt;Whew....kinda got far behind on blogging! My bad.&lt;br /&gt;So did the whole weigh in on Saturday. Down 2.something pounds, and 16.something to go! Starting to wish I could quit. I am super close to being at my "healthy" weight. I should be between 120-150lbs. I could chose 150 as my goal weight, but I really REALLY want to say I lost 100lbs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Guh&lt;/span&gt;. And really, you never "quit" Weight Watchers. I will be doing this the rest of my skinny life. When I look down the road, I ask if I really want to do this.....and then I look at old pics of myself. Skinny and fat. Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels....&lt;br /&gt;EXCEPT THE BURGERS AT BURGER BARON OUT IN &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;TOFIELD&lt;/span&gt;, OR PETER'S DRIVE IN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to babysit my little nephews over the weekend. I have never seen anyone eat so much. Tyler put away more food then I did on Saturday. About a billion helpings of Chow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mien&lt;/span&gt; noodles, not to mention the ones he stole from me, and the Hot Dogs (No bun)! Then he had a whole bunch of his chips....and yes, he barked for them...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again on Monday when I babysat.....he had almost a full bowl of Minestrone Soup *drool*. He would have kept going on the soup, but he got into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/span&gt; fries I brought for Dylan. He ate most of them. Dylan, being as sick as he was, managed 1 bite of chicken before he "recycled" everything onto himself and the kitchen chair. Poor kid. Spent the rest of the night with Dylan on one side of my lap, and Tyler on the other, both cuddled into me, watching Cars. Oh, they were so good. I want one of my own......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got an email from Sandy a couple of days ago. She's up in Cold Lake visiting her parents. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; gotten an email from her in AGES! Maybe b/c I see her every week. Only so much you can talk about....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. But she did complement my skilled humor and attempt at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;writing&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. At least I'm entertaining. Like watching paint dry instead of Golf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went outside yesterday for lunch, and had me a joy-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;gasm&lt;/span&gt;! Oh, is it ever nice out. Not quite the +25 I am waiting for, but this will do. All the puddles! I love to splash! I have even broken in Sandal Season! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; right! I wore Sandals on Saturday. Call me Crazy, and Dirty Toes, but it felt great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the first two Geese of the Season on my way into work. On the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Whitemud&lt;/span&gt; @ 17&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Street. I have to sit in standstill traffic for about 10 min every morning, and I was gazing around trying to wake up, and there they were......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:40 AM &lt;a id="blogAddComment0" title="Click to add a comment to this entry." href="http://andrea726canuck.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!5DB69D2ED31BCF72!145.entry#post" bvitemtype="post"&gt;Add a comment&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a id="blogPermalink0" title="Click to show the permalink for this entry." href="http://andrea726canuck.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!5DB69D2ED31BCF72!145.entry" bvitemtype=""&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Permalink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a id="blogTrackbacks0" title="Click to show trackbacks for this entry." href="http://andrea726canuck.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!5DB69D2ED31BCF72!145.entry#trackback" bvitemtype="trackback"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Trackbacks&lt;/span&gt; (0)&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a id="blogThis0" title="Blog about this entry in your space." href="javascript:BlogIt(" bvitemtype=""&gt;Blog it&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-261856298529174691?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/261856298529174691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=261856298529174691&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/261856298529174691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/261856298529174691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/goose-isnt-cooked.html' title='The Goose isnt cooked'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-82085700314726410</id><published>2007-03-12T08:33:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:37:31.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the WORST DAY EVER!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>March 01&lt;br /&gt;It's the WORST DAY EVER!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm sitting at my desk, and right before my 3pm break, I get a HUGE craving for chocolate. So, I decide to go against Weight Watchers, and get a chocolate bar out of the candy machine. 3pm comes, and I go to get my chocolate. Oh, yum yum! So excited! I put in my money, push the buttons, and slowly, my Malted Milk drops, like an angel falling from heaven. I get back to my desk, open this orgasm filled bar. I slowly unwrap the bar, savouring the crinkle sound it makes. As I lift the bar to my mouth, my mouth fills with saliva in anticipation. I open my mouth, wrap my lips around it and take my first bite.....***CRUNCH****! WTF???? A Malted Milk is supposed to be soft and chewy, not crunchy! It is so bloody stale, that I can scrape the nougat with my nail. I had been dreaming of a chocolate bar, and I get a rock hard bar of CRAP!!????!?!?!?? I need a hug&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, some of my generous co-workers had some yummy toffees and some Tootsie Rolls. I even got a little song and dance when the Tootsie Rolls were handed to me.....thanks LA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could this be the Weight Watchers God taking control of my life? Should I take the hint and never eat chocolate again? Or, should i tell the WW God to shove it up her ASS?????? Cruel Bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could honestly say that if a bridge loomed up in front of me right now, I would jump. I can't get over how bloody upset I am. Yes, it IS just a chocolate bar. But I have been on Weight Watchers for ten and a half months. Ten and a half months without-well, not without. Yes, i have had chocolate bars. The cadbury thins. They are Divine (just a skinny chocolate bar) but, right now, it's not enough. And about 2 months ago, i had a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. Have to say, wasn't very good. Tasted like wax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, enough about chocolate.....I am going to be carried away to the funny farm soon. They're coming to take me away haha, they're coming to take me away ho-ho. To the Funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time. And I'll be happy to see those nice young men, in their clean white coats, They're coming to take me away!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I was sitting at work earlier today, listening to my Ipod, and typing in the Data Base. Some good ol' MJ comes on. Im listening to the lyrics, and I come to the realization: MJ is a ba-aad man. i think he did do nasty gross things to little boys. Check out some of the lyrics to "Bad" ::Your butt is mine, gonna tell you right. Just show your face in broad daylight. I´m telling you on how I feel. Gonna hurt your mind don't shoot to kill. Come on come on lay it on me. All right... I'm giving you on count of three o show your stuff or let it be. I'm telling you just watch your mouth. know your game what you´re about. Well they say the sky's the limit and to me that's really true. But my friend you have seen nothin' just wait 'til I get through...Because I`m bad I'm bad come on.You know I'm bad I'm bad you know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, hello! How bloody obvious is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And really, the song "Beat It". Jebus, why not just wear a shirt that says what you are????.&lt;br /&gt;Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it. No one wants to be defeated. Showin' how funky and strong is your fight. It doesn't matter who's wrong or right. Just beat it, beat it. Just beat it, beat it. Just beat it, beat it. Just beat it, beat it. They're out to get you, better leave while you can. Don't wanna be a boy, you wanna be a man. You wanna stay alive, better do what you can. So beat it, just beat it. You have to show them that you're really not scared. You're playin' with your life, this ain't no truth or dare. They'll kick you, then they beat you. Then they'll tell you it's fair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all honesty tho, I do like his music. Am i as crazy as MJ is? Oh, look! A bridge! AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee&lt;br /&gt;AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-82085700314726410?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/82085700314726410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=82085700314726410&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/82085700314726410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/82085700314726410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-worst-day-ever.html' title='It&apos;s the WORST DAY EVER!!!!!!!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-7998050896634640689</id><published>2007-03-12T08:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T08:33:37.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mindless nothing covering it all......</title><content type='html'>February 28&lt;br /&gt;Mindless nothing covering it all......&lt;br /&gt;Sooo, driving to work today, and listening to Cisn.  Sean burke is going to go horse back riding for the first time.  They're throwing the guy on a stallion.  His comment:  a Stallion riding a stallion....&lt;br /&gt;I tried sooo hard to call in.  If Sean is a Stallion when he rides one, what does that make him when he rides a Donkey? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you checked out the New York Islanders website yet?  Ryan Smyth made the front page.  Lucky bastards.  Good ol Peter Pocklington has defended Kevin Low for what he did......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edmonton fans have to quit moaning and groaning and understand reality," Pocklington said. "Acquiring those players and that pick for an unrestricted (31-year-old) free agent could launch the team's new future."&lt;br /&gt;Just like the Gretzky trade did, he added.&lt;br /&gt;"The Trade," as it's come to be known, brought the Oilers $15-million U.S. in cash, Jimmy Carson, Martin Gelinas, and the Kings' first-round draft picks for 1989, 1991 and 1993 - the last of which was Jason Arnott.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Hey, Puck just to refresh your memory, none of those guys play for Edmonton anymore.  we made them who they are, and sent them on their way.....and they laughed all the way to the bank.  if some one offered me 1 million dollars a year to do something that I love, i would jump on it in a heart beat.  Someone should make these guys realize that it's not all about the money...it's about the love of the game.  Hey, i sound like Jerry Maquire!  Show ME the money.  ~~Could i be more dorky?&lt;br /&gt;I googled myself today!  How exciting it was to actually find me!  A while ago, I posted an entry on Jennifer Parks (Edmonton Sun columnist) blog-website-talky space.  Wow. Thats what came up.  I guess it could be worse.  At least there are no nudie pics of me out there.  Not like they would be  #1 on a Google search.  How scary!  I hope that doesn't give you nightmares!  Anyone else ever googled themselves?  Indulging yourself like that is just what the doctor ordered!&lt;br /&gt;Something I learned today.  My left hand and wrist are WAY smaller then my right.  I was coming back from the loo, wearing my bracelet on my left wrist, and is freaking flew off!  So, move it over to the right.  low and behold, it stays.  One of life's little mysteries. &lt;br /&gt;I have heard a bagillion times that Edmonton has the worst drivers in Canada......and I have always been offended by this.....Until i started REALLY paying attention to the other drivers. &lt;br /&gt;#1-A signal light is there for a reason.  The doo-hicky switch is RIGHT there&lt;br /&gt;#2-Eating and talking on your phone is a smidgen dangerous.  What hand is on the steering wheel?  Never mind!  Duh.  You must be using your knees&lt;br /&gt;#3-I remember thinking my mom had eyes in the back of her head when I was little.  Other drivers must have that, too! (lucky bastards)  I didn't see one person shoulder check on my way to work today.  and 3 of them almost hit me.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how long Edmonton will keep up the farce of the "City of Champions"?  what are we champions in?  Murders?  Bad drivers?  police scandals?  Bad bloggers?&lt;br /&gt;ROTFLMAO&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-7998050896634640689?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/7998050896634640689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=7998050896634640689&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7998050896634640689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7998050896634640689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/mindless-nothing-covering-it-all.html' title='Mindless nothing covering it all......'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-7185797348606711809</id><published>2007-03-12T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:43:10.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel like Garfield</title><content type='html'>February 26&lt;br /&gt;I feel like Garfield&lt;br /&gt;I hate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mondays&lt;/span&gt;. I am a firm believer that people do not spend enough time with their families. Therefore, we just turn Monday in to the last day of the weekend. I'm sure most of you would agree.&lt;br /&gt;My weigh-in didn't go as I planned. I still have weight to lose. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Doh&lt;/span&gt;. I was hoping to get on the enemy (aka the scale) and find a miracle. sadly, no miracle. I still have 18.8 pounds to goal. I am getting so close, and it is driving me bonkers!! I wore a pair of jeans and a shirt to mom and dad's yesterday, that I haven't been able to fit into in about 7 years. How kick ass is that? Although, I did have some cute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lil&lt;/span&gt; handles! Is it possible to give yourself liposuction? How great would that be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never underestimate the power of an Aunt. Ask my little nephew Dylan how old his mommy is. He'll tell you 28. Ask him how old he is. He'll tell you that he's "free". Ask him how old his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Oma&lt;/span&gt; is.....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Oma&lt;/span&gt; is a Dinosaur. And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Opa&lt;/span&gt; is older then dirt. I wonder who taught him that. Dylan's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Opa&lt;/span&gt; (my dad) tried to teach Dylan some new words, too. "Auntie only cost $5.95!" Smart kid. He never picked that one up. I told Pam that I need a peg leg, and I'll put Dylan on my shoulder. Remind me never to leave my children alone with mom and dad, or Pam. Their revenge would kill me. Ask Dylan "What's up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dawg&lt;/span&gt;?" and his reply us "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Nothin&lt;/span&gt;', what's up chicken?" And don't forget that we are all "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;wack&lt;/span&gt;" "word".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it could be way worse. Dad taught Tyler to bark. Yes, my little 15 month old nephew barks. He fits right into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;DeVries&lt;/span&gt; gene pool. He barks for food. He heard the distinct crinkle of his favorite bag of chips, and the barking began. Nothing like a 15 month old, and a "free" year old for entertainment. And even better, crazy Auntie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Aya&lt;/span&gt; playing a psycho game of peek-a-boo with Tyler. Started with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Boo's&lt;/span&gt; and ended with screams. Loud, crazy, and a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had an absolute blast at a baby shower on Saturday. And as i was leaving, I got blasted. Craig, bless his soul, held in his fart until we were outside. I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; nice, helping him and Danette get all the presents out to the van. After I handed him the last bag, he turns, plants his ass on me and let it rip. I didn't even have time to react. . Sigh. Reminds me of Denny's. I do miss all the fun we had there.&lt;br /&gt;Back to the shower. I put a hex on Lisa for bringing her chocolate fountain. Oh, dear god was it good. And even better was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;explaining&lt;/span&gt; to Arlene was a "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;punani&lt;/span&gt;" was. She'll never yell that word out again. We also had a wonderful conversation about Camel Toes, and Moose Knuckles. You always to learn something at a baby shower!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Happy Birthday to Sandy!! Celebrated her 29&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and 156 month birthday on Saturday. Very rarely can Sandy be surprised, but we got her. And she thanked us with a wonderful dance. Sandy got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;jiggy&lt;/span&gt; with it. Dylan would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; tell her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; she's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;wack&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; so tired and wanting to back to bed. I was barely home all weekend. I should really make up for that, starting right now.. Or else a Tim Horton's run.....either or is good for me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;br /&gt;10:55 AM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-7185797348606711809?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/7185797348606711809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=7185797348606711809&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7185797348606711809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7185797348606711809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-feel-like-garfield.html' title='I feel like Garfield'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-7746964153391513627</id><published>2007-03-12T08:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:42:21.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Na-na-na-na. Na-na-na-na. Hey hey hey. Kiss Him GoodBye</title><content type='html'>February 27&lt;br /&gt;Na-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;na&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;na&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;na&lt;/span&gt;. Na-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;na&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;na&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;na&lt;/span&gt;. Hey hey hey. Kiss Him &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to hold off on posting until the NHL trade deadline was over. I am sitting here in absolute shock. If you have no clue what I am talking about, you are either not from Edmonton, or deaf, dumb and blind. I really wonder what the game will be like without Smitty tonight. Hopefully the boys will pull it together, and follow in the footsteps of "The Moose". Messier pulled the boys out of the 'losing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Getz&lt;/span&gt;" funk, and went on to win the cup. So, boys, get it together, and show the NHL that Edmonton still does have the best team in the league. Or, at least the one with the most heart, and by far the BEST fans.&lt;br /&gt;Here's to you Smitty, thanks for the memories, the plays, and pissing off the goalies. Without you, I would never have had the chance to dangle Sandy in your face.&lt;br /&gt;Is it a good thing or a bad thing that we might not play &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;against&lt;/span&gt; the Isle's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be worse, we could have re-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;acquired&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Pronger&lt;/span&gt; from the Ducks. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;C'mon&lt;/span&gt; people, be a little positive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Andres, you are still my cutie-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;patootie&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-7746964153391513627?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/7746964153391513627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=7746964153391513627&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7746964153391513627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/7746964153391513627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-hey-hey-hey.html' title='Na-na-na-na. Na-na-na-na. Hey hey hey. Kiss Him GoodBye'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-280706086539993640</id><published>2007-03-12T08:28:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:41:42.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mindless Rambling (try to keep up)/do men REALLY listen?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;February 23&lt;br /&gt;Mindless Rambling (try to keep up)/do men REALLY listen?&lt;br /&gt;TGIF (not like I had a long week or anything!)&lt;br /&gt;The boss was exasperated with his new secretary, a blond.&lt;br /&gt;She ignored the telephone when it rang.&lt;br /&gt;"You must answer the telephone," he told her irritably.&lt;br /&gt;"It seems so silly," she replied. "Nine times out of 10, it's for you."&lt;br /&gt;Hey, I feel that way everyday! So what's wrong with that? By the time the I get home from work, I HATE the phone. Never in a million years would I have ever thought I would feel that way. When you hit "the age" to be on the phone, you stay on it for hours....even when you have nothing to say. Am I right? But why is it, I have to ask, that guys never really got into that. James has never been a big phone talker. Even when we first started dating, our conversations lasted a whopping 30 seconds. All right, I will admit that I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;extremely&lt;/span&gt; sick at first (a little mono mixed with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tonsillitis&lt;/span&gt;) and I literally couldn't talk (yes, my mother thanked God many times for that one....). I just don't understand how it is at possible to retain all the info I give you in 30 seconds or less. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hmmmmm&lt;/span&gt;. I now have proof that James doesn't listen!!! There is no possible way! And anyone who truly knows my hubby knows that most of what he hears goes in one ear, and out the other. Maybe there just isn't any room in his head...already full of The Matrix, good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Warhammer&lt;/span&gt; and the newest one...World of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Warcraft&lt;/span&gt;. I know it could be worse....could be filled with drugs--I am almost ready to consider WOW a drug. Anyone else out there who plays....get out of your 2-D world and join us REAL people in the land of 3-D. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Here is another thing I don't understand about men....well one of many things....&lt;br /&gt;What's up with the whole girl on girl action? Do we ask you to be with another guy? I know everyone has their little fetishes, but how did it come to every guy (minus the gay ones) having the same one??? Starting to become funnier and funnier in my head. 600 guys gawking at 2 girls who are playing the guys by holding the pose of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;beginning&lt;/span&gt; of a kiss. All women are evil. And, DAMN, are we ever good at it!!!&lt;br /&gt;I was reading the paper on line this am. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Telus&lt;/span&gt; has decided to revoke porn privileges off their phones. Too many parents are worried that their precious 13 and 14 year old boys are going to download it. No worries! They probably won't, they're to busy trying to hide the Playboy Magazines they stole from their Dad. Tell me what guy never stole their dad's dirty magazines???????&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is weigh-in day. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Eeeep&lt;/span&gt;! Here's hoping I have a loss! I have 20 more pounds to lose (already lost 80) and now I am just getting antsy! I did up my Wranglers the other day. I would never wear them out of the house, and I have 2 very good reasons! In all honesty, i couldn't breathe. And on top of that....I looked like a muffin. You know, skinny on the bottom, overflow on top. Except I didn't look like a regular muffin. No i looked like one of the giant Costco muffins. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Pleasant&lt;/span&gt;. Truly. James and i had a good laugh about that. I really do put the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Grrrr&lt;/span&gt; in Swinger, baby!&lt;br /&gt;Before I forget: My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;MSN&lt;/span&gt; name was at one point "I have a Secret....." Just to clarify, I am NOT pregnant! But i will admit that it would be....THE COOLEST THING EVER!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and Andres.......here I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;writing&lt;/span&gt; about you in my blog--you are a handsome young lad who feels like a geek for reading this. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Ahhh&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;darlin&lt;/span&gt;' you're not a geek! But....hey, I don't know you all that well. Are you a closet geek? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;... Hey buddy, my blog kicks ass. And you be careful. I'll kick yo ass so hard, you'll starve to death doing cartwheels until next Thursday! Word, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;homie&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;br /&gt;One last thing to complete your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;friday&lt;/span&gt;! I have New Kids on the Block playing on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Ipod&lt;/span&gt; right now. Step by Step, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;ooo&lt;/span&gt; baby, Gonna get to ya &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;girrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl&lt;/span&gt;! James, your band should &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;soooooo&lt;/span&gt; cover that song!&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12:54 PM&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-280706086539993640?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/280706086539993640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=280706086539993640&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/280706086539993640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/280706086539993640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/mindless-rambling-try-to-keep-updo-men.html' title='Mindless Rambling (try to keep up)/do men REALLY listen?'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-4585217387761340191</id><published>2007-03-12T08:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T08:28:40.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 blogs in 1 day? Hmmm, I must have Blog-itis</title><content type='html'>February 22&lt;br /&gt;2 blogs in 1 day? Hmmm, I must have Blog-itis&lt;br /&gt;I read this in today's Edmonton Sun.  How crazy cool is this?&lt;br /&gt;(Just a quick little peek to what it said)&lt;br /&gt;Ever wonder if you're related to a prominent historical figure such as Marie Antoinette, Jesse James or Genghis Khan?&lt;br /&gt;Wonder no more.&lt;br /&gt;With the DNA Ancestry Project, a genealogy kit now available at the Bay stores at Southgate Centre and West Edmonton Mall, it's possible to trace your lineage back 150,000 years. The kits - which cost $139 to track your mom's or dad's lineage, or $278 to track both - include a mouth swab to capture your DNA and a CD-ROM that helps you match your DNA online to other people across the world with the same ancestral markers in their DNA.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;br /&gt;2:55 PM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-4585217387761340191?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/4585217387761340191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=4585217387761340191&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/4585217387761340191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/4585217387761340191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/2-blogs-in-1-day-hmmm-i-must-have-blog.html' title='2 blogs in 1 day? Hmmm, I must have Blog-itis'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-2933742875653018946</id><published>2007-03-12T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:39:57.549-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Must Have Failed Mind Reading 101</title><content type='html'>I Must Have Failed Mind Reading 101&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I just didn't take the course! As most of you already know, I sit on my butt all day and answer phones, attend to the faxes, send out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of stuff (stuff that looks like it was written in Greek) and do other fun little jobs. I love that I have no stress in my job....and I have had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of stressful jobs. Lets see.....before &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;VOD&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;PPV&lt;/span&gt; became the rage, I worked as a lowly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CSR&lt;/span&gt; at Blockbuster Video. Remember when that place was THE place to be on a Friday/Saturday? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ahhh&lt;/span&gt;, the good old days. A new release was $4.91 (inc. tax) and was due back the next day by midnight. Ya, try standing for 7.5 hours straight, at the till that doesn't close, with a line that never ends. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ug&lt;/span&gt;. I started there right before Christmas....Santa brought me some great Adidas standing sneakers. Bless you Santa. I left &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;BBV&lt;/span&gt; and headed across Baseline Road, skipped over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Broadmoor&lt;/span&gt; Boulevard, and started late night serving at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;America's&lt;/span&gt; favorite breakfast spot...Denny's. If there is anything that shakes you up, it's late night @ Denny's. Nothing like a bunch of drunk idiots to make you sweat. Some people think serving tables is a joke, and treat servers the same way they would treat the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;doggie&lt;/span&gt; poop that they stepped in. Try again. Of all the jobs I have had, this was BY FAR the hardest. I have never realized how condescending some people are. Asking if "being a waitress" was the only thing I did. Taught that Jackass a lesson. "Gosh, no sir. I'm in Med School, and I have to pay my full tuition, so, I work here full time, trying to pay my way. i only sleep 3 hours a night. Between Studying and work.....I'm exhausted. but only 3 years more of it!" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Dumbass&lt;/span&gt; left me a $20 tip. Now, I'm not just a waitress, but also a med student/con artist. Kick Ass! At any rate, never under estimate the power of your server.&lt;br /&gt;I also tried the whole management thing at Denny's. Stress stress stress! I left Denny's, with some pride in tact (not very much) and headed south across Baseline to........Petersen Pontiac. That's right, I tried to cut the mustard. It was a fun job, i have to say. Nothing like an old man asking for a salesman, me telling him that i am a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;salesPERSON&lt;/span&gt;, and having him look me up and down, give me a disgusted look and tell me that I'm a girl. Well, Duh. Good thing he told me that. i thought that b/c I have boobies and a foo-foo, that that made me boy. Sales was fun, but....if you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; sell, you made minimum wage. If you only sold one car, you only got paid for one car. Well, with James and I buying a house, and trying to be grown-ups, we made the decision that I had to leave. My paychecks were either so high, that we could buy Buckingham Palace, or they were so low that we ate ants to survive. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;exaggerated&lt;/span&gt; a tad. You get my point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At any rate, I applied on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Workopolis&lt;/span&gt;.com, and had an interview with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Amec&lt;/span&gt;...and here I sit. All by myself. And I love it. I have never had a Mon-Fri job before (loving it!), but I do miss late night coffee dates, any day of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only complaints....... Phone rings...I answer it. Some moron is on the phone, telling me that our number was on his call display, and wondering who called him. Well, buddy, there are about 150 employees here......get a life. I don't know who just called you, and, really, i don't care. I love people who spend their day checking caller &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;ID's&lt;/span&gt; and wanting to know who called them. Wrong numbers happen....it's part of life. Personally, if you call me (esp. on my cell) and i don't know the number, i ain't gonna answer. I'm not wasting my minutes on wrong numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and really, who got it in their mind that the receptionist knows where everything is, how everything works, and where everyone is. I know nothing. I am fully willing to admit this! I think it was on my second day when someone asked my about some highly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;safittimacated&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;doo&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;hicky&lt;/span&gt;. I think I actually drooled a bit and said "duh". Love it! Now I just come up with some smart-ass comment. One of my favorites was yesterday. Big-head honcho engineer sticks his head in the large boardroom, which, BTW, had no lights on. Turns to me and asks me if anyone is in there. Well, gosh, gee, um! I looked at him with a straight face and replied "Well, you just stuck your head in there. Tell me: did YOU see anyone in there? Sorry, couldn't help it. At least I got a good laugh out them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides saying: I have no idea, not a clue or go away, I also tend to tell people that I will wave my Magic Wand, do a little dance, and say a good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;bibity&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;bobity&lt;/span&gt; boo! Hopefully it will get you away from me.......unless you can tell me when the next Mind Reading Class is. I will gladly take it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~Andrea&lt;br /&gt;12:42 PM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-2933742875653018946?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/2933742875653018946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=2933742875653018946&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2933742875653018946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2933742875653018946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-must-have-failed-mind-reading-101.html' title='I Must Have Failed Mind Reading 101'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-2142516173462056608</id><published>2007-03-12T08:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T15:38:53.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tails from the Vet.......</title><content type='html'>February 21&lt;br /&gt;Tails from the Vet.......&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm starting a blog. Anyone surprised? Hey, now I have a place to talk, where non of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ya'll&lt;/span&gt; can tell me to shut up! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sweeeeeet&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;Luckily I can do this at work (like I actually work @ work), so my updates will be filled with wonderful anecdotes of my days at work. Here we go: ............................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so i work with a bunch of engineers. Nothing to say! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ROTFLMAO&lt;/span&gt;!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;So we just passed a WONDERFUL long weekend. well, a long weekend for most, I got greedy and took an extra day. My darling husband (oh, GAG! ) decided to join me. Took a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sucide&lt;/span&gt; trip on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Yellowhead&lt;/span&gt; to make it to the Space and Science Centre (I'm not calling it the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Telus&lt;/span&gt; World of Science. Its like calling the Coliseum, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Rexal&lt;/span&gt;!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;?) before the 10am movie started, and HELL YA (!!!!!!!!!!!!,) I make it there. We left a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;teensy&lt;/span&gt; bit late, so I drove to make it there on time. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;, SUICIDE!!!!!! But we made it there, and saw &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Stormchasers&lt;/span&gt; on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;IMAX&lt;/span&gt;. Anyone who know me, knows I love crazy ass storms! Anyway, giving the movie 2 thumbs up, and still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;pissy&lt;/span&gt; about the little brats that sat behind us and whispered &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;thruout&lt;/span&gt; the whole movie. I actually went to their teacher after and complained. Apparently &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;SHHHHHHHHHHHHH&lt;/span&gt;(!!!!!!!!!) means nothing to the brats. James was surprised that I actually went up to the teacher to complain. i told him that once I noticed the whispering, IT WAS ALL I COULD HEAR! Like little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;mosquitos&lt;/span&gt; in your room, on hot summers night. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Ahhh&lt;/span&gt;, missing summer. But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; another story. After we left the S&amp;amp;SC, we went home to pick up our darling angel.......can't type that with a straight face! Hell will not accept my cat-she is too evil for the DEVIL!!!!!!!!! We made it to the vet without incident, Viper (yes, her name is Viper) likes car rides, as long as she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;isn't&lt;/span&gt; in the box. So, we exit the car, and bravely, the 3 of us head to the vet. Two of us walking and one on my shoulder........&lt;br /&gt;She got nervous when we got in. We had a bit of a wait, so she was on my shoulder, then hiding behind me on the chair. So, then we go into the room, and she roams form my shoulders, to my head, then to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;James's&lt;/span&gt; shoulder and his head. Back and forth. Finally she gets brave enough to venture down onto the table. Mr. Vet made the BAD mistake of going to pet her. Viper is not fond of strangers, esp. strangers that hurt her last time. Mr. Vet bled. We were like sorry, sorry sorry sorry! He said it was his own fault. Then came time for the shots.....oh boy. So Jill, the vet assistant comes in with a towel to cover Viper. She panicked. Cant blame her, tho. So we all held her down and the 1st shot went in fine. Then she flipped. Literally. The V.A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t control her, and made the mistake of grabbing her by the scruff of the neck, which she HATES, and grabbing her bum, which she hates even more! V.A now bleeding and looking terrified. Viper on table hissing at Vet and V.A, glaring at James and I. V.A goes to grab talon gloves for the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; shot, but throws towel on Viper before she leaves the room. Now Viper mad. I don’t see why she had to do that, she took forever coming back. Anyway, Viper under towel losing her mind. Towel was stinky (VERY stinky) and Viper was scared. So, I grab Viper use, what James calls my "mom voice", and tell her to calm down. As soon as she knew it was me that had her, she stopped moving, but kept growling. I have her on the table, trying to soothe her for the next round of shots, and the vet looks at me, and grabs the needle. BINGO! Second (and last) shot in! Whew! Towel comes off, Viper back on my shoulders, and NOT COMING DOWN!!! Also hissing at the vet, who was laughing by now. So, I ask if he will clip her nails. Well, he almost has a heart attack from laughing. So, no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;clippy&lt;/span&gt; nails. We have to do that ourselves. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Doh&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Thus concludes the tails of the trip to the trip to the Vet.&lt;br /&gt;Well, almost. She goes back in a month for her one year shots. Here we go again......&lt;br /&gt;**AH&lt;br /&gt;1:00 PM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-2142516173462056608?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/2142516173462056608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=2142516173462056608&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2142516173462056608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/2142516173462056608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/february-21-tails-from-vet.html' title='Tails from the Vet.......'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8837520258786143327.post-5712079164543340026</id><published>2007-03-12T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T15:53:45.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to Andrea Harrison's Blog!  Oooo, Exciting!</title><content type='html'>Hey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Soooo&lt;/span&gt;, I finally moved my blog over! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hooray&lt;/span&gt; for me! Keep reading, and leave me your comments!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pics coming soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~AH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8837520258786143327-5712079164543340026?l=andreablog1.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/feeds/5712079164543340026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8837520258786143327&amp;postID=5712079164543340026&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5712079164543340026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8837520258786143327/posts/default/5712079164543340026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andreablog1.blogspot.com/2007/03/welcome.html' title='Welcome to Andrea Harrison&apos;s Blog!  Oooo, Exciting!'/><author><name>andreablogger</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17043413939802966737</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
