<?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-7783704</id><updated>2011-09-06T12:26:06.986-05:00</updated><category term='Poker'/><category term='Travelling'/><category term='Fitness'/><category term='knitting'/><category term='WFMW'/><category term='Photo A Day'/><category term='Restaurant Stories'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Teaching Stories'/><category term='Projects'/><category term='family'/><category term='Biphasic Sleeping'/><category term='Pictures'/><category term='video'/><category term='wii'/><category term='Live Blogging'/><category term='All About Me'/><category term='SHS'/><category term='Pay Per Post'/><category term='Dental Stories'/><category term='Weekly Winners'/><category term='life'/><category term='Blogging'/><title type='text'>Slowing Down</title><subtitle type='html'>These are the adventures and crises of a world traveler who hardly ever gets to leave the Nashville area.  I'm a mother, wife, waitress, teacher, former dental assistant, and a superhero. And my son thinks I'm funny, so I've got that going for me.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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>495</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-6554537491703633902</id><published>2010-12-09T09:25:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T10:15:49.856-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knitting'/><title type='text'>Can't Stop Knitting</title><content type='html'>It all started about a week before Halloween.  Night wanted to be Harry Potter.  We have been reading through the series (we are on year 4 now).  It is amazing to re-live Harry Potter with a 7 year old, by the way.  Anyway, Night wanted to be Harry Potter.  We found a costume for him, but we couldn't find a scarf.&lt;br /&gt;My mom taught me how to knit when I was about 10.  I never finished anything--not even a square that we could call a washcloth.  But, if I could do it when I was 10, I figured I could re-teach myself now, and that is just what I did.  I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-mart and bought a cheap skein of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;burgundy&lt;/span&gt; and a cheap skein of gold.  We already had big needles at home, and I set out to work.  I watched video after video after video on the internet.  It took me about 2 days to re-teach myself.  I didn't use a pattern or anything, so I cast on way too many stitches.  I think there were probably 50 stitches.  (I'm currently knitting a scarf with 19 stitches).  I didn't know how to count rows, so I knit with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;burgundy&lt;/span&gt; until it looked right, then I watched a zillion videos to learn how to switch colors.  I did garter stitch for the whole thing, which is all I even knew existed.  Halloween was on Sunday.  I had the scarf finished by Thursday.  Whoo-hoo. &lt;br /&gt;Now, I can't stop knitting.  Since then (a month and a half?), I have made 2 more Harry Potter scarves (toddler versions), a scarf for Keira, a PONCHO and hat for myself, and 3 basket-weave scarves for teacher gifts (I' have 3 more of those to get done for next Wednesday).  I've also started teaching myself how to make socks.  I've started two.  The first one is crap, but I learned from it. Now, I'm on the second.  I figure if I can get this second one down, I will rip out the first one and make a pair!&lt;br /&gt;I want to write more about my knitting adventure, but I can't figure out how to type and knit at the same time, so the rest of the story will have to wait while I knit and knit and knit...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6554537491703633902?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6554537491703633902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6554537491703633902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6554537491703633902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6554537491703633902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/12/cant-stop-knitting.html' title='Can&apos;t Stop Knitting'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-8188499413120382876</id><published>2010-10-08T10:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T10:21:35.196-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Why Do I Suck at Sleeping In?</title><content type='html'>Last night at dinner:&lt;br /&gt;Me: (to Josh) Do you want to take the kids to school in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;Josh: Why?&lt;br /&gt;Me: So I can sleep in.&lt;br /&gt;Josh: But you suck at sleeping in.&lt;br /&gt;Me: I don't.  I can sleep in until 9:30 or so. &lt;br /&gt;Josh: That isn't really sleeping in.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Just because you go to bed at 4:00 in the morning and are able to sleep until 2:00 in the afternoon, 9:30 is still considered to be a sleep in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning:&lt;br /&gt;JOSH's alarm went off at 7:00.  Whoo hoo.  I had forgotten!!  I'm sleeping in!!&lt;br /&gt;7:05:&lt;br /&gt;Keira: The alarm went off in my bedroom and woke me up!!  Will you help me brush my teeth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't you know that I haven't been back to sleep since?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8188499413120382876?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8188499413120382876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8188499413120382876' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8188499413120382876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8188499413120382876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/10/why-do-i-suck-at-sleeping-in.html' title='Why Do I Suck at Sleeping In?'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-8289451935871835506</id><published>2010-10-06T18:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T18:16:18.196-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Walk to School Day</title><content type='html'>Today was Walk to School Day.  We walk to school everyday.  It takes about 8 minutes, give or take FIVE minutes depending on Keira's mood.  For this special occasion, the students were meeting at a nearby church, along with teachers and parents, in order to walk to school as a group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live about half way between the school and the church, a little bit closer to the school.  The meeting time was 7:50, and we usually leave our house around then, so I knew that school would actually be starting a little late.  Around 7:30, I called the school to find out if they'd be walking on our street or the street beside us.  Of course, it was not OUR street. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave the kids the choice as to leaving a little early and walking to the church then to the school or just leaving at the normal time and going straight to the school.  Wouldn't you know that Keira wanted to walk with everyone else, and Night wanted to leave at the normal time.   Since we were ready early, I contemplated driving Keira to the church then coming home and taking Night the normal route.  Then, I thought about the reasons for Walk to School Day (I'm not sure what they are, but probably to be healthy and green, right?), and driving to the church didn't really fit.  So, I popped Keira on my back, complete with hoodies and a backpack and &lt;s&gt;ran&lt;/s&gt; walked/jogged to the church, dropped her off, and &lt;s&gt;ran&lt;/s&gt; sped walked back to the house to pick up Night.  I was able to walk fast enough to pick up Night and cross over to the next street before the whole group passed by.  So, we joined them and finished walking to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was home and drinking my coffee by 8:30am.  Not a bad start to the morning!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8289451935871835506?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8289451935871835506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8289451935871835506' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8289451935871835506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8289451935871835506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/10/walk-to-school-day.html' title='Walk to School Day'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-5839991324784283562</id><published>2010-09-24T15:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T16:10:46.650-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teaching Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>A Long Overdue Update</title><content type='html'>Okay.  Time to update this blog and let everyone know how life is a lot different from the last time you heard from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In July, we moved from our little town of Franklin to East Nashville in order to finally be closer to work.  For the past two years, I had been commuting 1/2 hour to work (not too bad) and 45 minutes home (traffic!) each day in order to work at a small independent middle school in East Nashville.  We loved Franklin, so it was a hard decision, but one made easier with the fact that my children would have free tuition this year.  Since, as a whole, Nashville public schools aren't the greatest (and Franklin Elementary was fantastic), this was a big part of our decision.  Also, Josh had been offered a part time position at my school as well, meaning my whole little family could go to school together everyday!  I had always hated being so far away from my family when I crossed into Nashville each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, my small independent school closed due to financial problems.  This happened less than a month before school was set to begin.  Fortunately, the school we are zoned for in our new house is one of the best in the area, so my kids would be okay.  Unfortunately, I had let my teaching license expire a few years ago--it wasn't necessary at my private school, but it is necessary to get another job teaching at a public school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am now currently receiving unemployment checks.  It is surreal.  I go from feeling like a loser who can't find a good paying job despite my education degree to a happy mom who gets paid to stay home!  I have very productive days where I bake stuff for the ladies at my kids' school, clean the house from top to bottom, take the dog to the dog park, read books, and make delicious meals that I would've never had time to make before.  I also have very unproductive days where I get out of bed long enough walk the kids to school then crawl back in until it is time to pick them back up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been lucky enough to keep my waitressing job on the weekend-the one where I've worked for 6 years.  Unfortunately, the way unemployment works, is that if I make more than $68.75 a week, the overage comes out of my $275 unemployment check.  Since I usually make closer to $100 each day, I only work on Sundays.  Josh has been able to pick up a few odd jobs every now and then, which helps to supplement our income as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working on getting my license updated.  I have to fight through some red-tape, though since my license is in Indiana, and we live in Tennessee.  I guess the most discouraging part is that once I get my license, I can't really expect to find a teaching job in the middle of the school year.  I can sub, but unless it is full time, it isn't really worth it.  Here is my dream: get my license updated and then transferred over to this state and then get a teaching job at my kids' school, which is a mere 5 minute (or 15 minute with the kiddos!) WALK to school.  Since that is unlikely to happen in MY timing, I will do my best to get some subbing jobs there so the principal gets to know me, and my face pops into her head when a position becomes available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am enjoying my time, although I feel guilty at times.  My house is cleaner than it has ever been--people could even stop by without warning, and I wouldn't be too embarrassed!  I've spent a lot of time volunteering at the kids' school (which is good for them, but makes me kind of sad sometimes).  Overall, my life seems a lot more...calm, but it is only a matter of time before I start to get stir crazy.  I might me alphabetizing the soup cans soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5839991324784283562?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5839991324784283562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5839991324784283562' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5839991324784283562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5839991324784283562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/09/long-overdue-update.html' title='A Long Overdue Update'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-4115612315857919015</id><published>2010-05-07T19:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T19:11:46.254-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weekend, Pictures</title><content type='html'>The water heater floating at the top...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S-SrJ0zoYZI/AAAAAAAAAkU/LVvZ0XpZn8E/s1600/IMG_0583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S-SrJ0zoYZI/AAAAAAAAAkU/LVvZ0XpZn8E/s320/IMG_0583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468684032816996754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is after some of the water was pumped out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S-SrJaczv-I/AAAAAAAAAkM/tOogDL_Wae4/s1600/IMG_0581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S-SrJaczv-I/AAAAAAAAAkM/tOogDL_Wae4/s320/IMG_0581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468684025741950946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our trash.  This is taken from our driveway.  Across the street to the left is a bunch of our junk.  We gathered three of our neighbor's trash cans and lined them up (full, of course) across the street (to the right), and then we piled a bunch right in front of our yard (closest in the picture).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S-SrK009e3I/AAAAAAAAAkk/-a1KNHKrnQg/s1600/IMG_0588.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S-SrK009e3I/AAAAAAAAAkk/-a1KNHKrnQg/s320/IMG_0588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468684050002443122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A view from across the street.  The black Xterra along with the trail of trash behind it, is in front of our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S-SrKSpUBBI/AAAAAAAAAkc/saqh6XYct4U/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S-SrKSpUBBI/AAAAAAAAAkc/saqh6XYct4U/s320/IMG_0587.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468684040826782738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4115612315857919015?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4115612315857919015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4115612315857919015' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4115612315857919015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4115612315857919015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/05/weekend-pictures.html' title='The Weekend, Pictures'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S-SrJ0zoYZI/AAAAAAAAAkU/LVvZ0XpZn8E/s72-c/IMG_0583.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-4407652866434530613</id><published>2010-05-07T09:48:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T19:04:41.678-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>My Weekend, part 2</title><content type='html'>After we finished eating, we headed home.  It took longer than usual, but we didn't run into any unusual obstacles-other than seeing a lot of flooded yards, including our local park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to relax, I decided to take a bath.  I couldn't get the water to heat up!  It was luke warm at best.  Not knowing anything about the pipes or workings of the house, it didn't make sense to me when Josh ran frantically to the basement door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured it out pretty quickly--our hot water heater was in the basement, which was flooded up to the fourth stair from the top, about 6 feet or so.  Not only was the hot water heater under water, but it was FLOATING in the basement, along with a lot of other things that I don't even want to think about right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rent our home, so Josh called the landlord and left a message.  It went something like this, "Um, the water in the basement is almost to the top.  I'm not sure what to do.  I've never had a flooded basement before."  Well, the landlord didn't call back until the next afternoon, so he wasn't much help.  We called the fire department to see if they could come pump the basement before it came into the rest of the house. They said that they could not-we could call them back if we needed rescued or evacuated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh went to Home Depot to see if they had any sump pumps left.  They were turning people away at the door.  So, my brilliant husband bought one of those decorative pumps that go in fountains.  They pump water too!  He got the pump up (down?) and running around 8:00pm Saturday.  It rained until around 6:30pm Sunday.  The pump ran the whole time, other than maybe about 4 hours that Josh took to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the news, we saw video of a mobile trailer on the INTERSTATE; it had floated about 3/4 of a mile in the flood to the road, where it crashed into cars and semis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="660" height="405"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/n5gYhLKwSp4&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/n5gYhLKwSp4&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="660" height="405"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we went through was nothing compared to so many of the people who live in the area.  Most of our damage was Saturday night; We spent all day Sunday wondering if we were going to have to leave our house because of the nearby river, but we were fine.  Josh's quick thinking Saturday night saved us from the disaster that it could have been.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, everything everywhere was closed.  In fact, the schools in Metro Nashville STILL aren't back in session.  It took us most of Monday and Tuesday morning to get the basement completely cleaned out.  Pretty much everything was ruined.  Josh did manage to save some of our wedding pictures, but pictures from high school (Australia!) and college are gone.  Baby pictures of Keira are gone too, but I think we have some of those on the computer.  Cleaning up was hard to do because it reminded me of what was down in the basement.  It would've been better for my soul if someone else could've cleaned our house and we could've cleaned theirs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are almost back to normal now, though.  We do have a huge (okay, three huge piles) pile of junk on the curb waiting to be picked up.  And, our air conditioning is still out because the ducts that were in the basement were soaked through.  The only other problem is the SMELL.  Our house stinks like mildew-it is raising out of the basement and part of the carpet in the den where we carried our soiled goods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go light some candles and spray some Lysol.  Not in that order-because then we might have another disaster on our hands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4407652866434530613?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4407652866434530613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4407652866434530613' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4407652866434530613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4407652866434530613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-weekend-part-2.html' title='My Weekend, part 2'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-2577730736510672161</id><published>2010-05-05T20:25:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T10:03:43.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Weekend, part 1</title><content type='html'>Saturday morning, we woke up "early" to go to a fundraiser Pancake Breakfast at my school, which is in East Nashville.  We live in Franklin, which is about 15 minutes south of Nashville, making the trip to the school about half an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was POURING down rain.  I love rain, so I was happy.  I really love the rain when I'm sleeping in, but being out and about in the rain is usually okay too.  When we left the breakfast around 11:00, we decided to drive around East Nashville for awhile.  I'm over there all the time, but I don't really take time to explore.  We like to drive around a look at "stuff."  We also went shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were leaving what was presumably our last shop, the radio announced that there was a tornado warning in Franklin for the next half hour.  We decided to stick around Nashville for a little while longer.  It was still raining--Josh went into a video store and found a few deals while the kids and I hung out in the car--they were playing on their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;DSs&lt;/span&gt;, and I was reading on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Iphone&lt;/span&gt;.  (I'm not sure what we'd do without electronics...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Josh returned, we decided to meander home.  We got to about 5 miles from our exit off the interstate and traffic was stopped.  Now, people in Nashville seem to think driving while it is raining is...reason to crash into each other.  There seems to be a lot more accidents during rain storms.  So, we figured there was an accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is unusual to be stuck on the interstate on a Saturday afternoon.  We decided to get off at the exit and take the back way home.  We were in the furthest lane from the exit, of course, so it took a little maneuvering.  It seemed that everyone else had the same idea as well--even the semi-trucks!  Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once in the exit lane, we drove close to the interstate so we could see the action.  By this time, we realized that all of the traffic had been routed off the interstate.  Must be a bad accident!  Then, we saw that the direction we were headed--toward the mall was FLOODED.  The road that leads to the mall had a huge pond of water with a few cars stuck in the middle.  Then, we noticed that the INTERSTATE was also flooded, which is why we were routed off of it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, by this time, we were hungry again, so we stopped to eat.  It was pouring down rain the entire time.  At the school across from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt;, a group of teenagers were playing in the pool that was once a field.   At the time, it seemed fun and cute.  Looking back, it was the start of a very long weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-2577730736510672161?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/2577730736510672161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=2577730736510672161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2577730736510672161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2577730736510672161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-weekend-part-1.html' title='My Weekend, part 1'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-6247372595744892021</id><published>2010-05-05T13:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T13:35:58.141-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>It's Been Awhile...</title><content type='html'>It has been so long since I have been here that my blogger account was disabled!  What does that mean?  Why'd they disable it?  I'm here; I'm here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6247372595744892021?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6247372595744892021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6247372595744892021' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6247372595744892021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6247372595744892021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/05/its-been-awhile.html' title='It&apos;s Been Awhile...'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-4275825816529821969</id><published>2010-01-12T19:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T19:13:50.963-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>I was Playing On-Line Poker, What Did You Expect?</title><content type='html'>I just heard a pounding noise from the other room.  Like a good mother, rather than going to look, I yelled, "What are you doing?" &lt;br /&gt;Keira yelled back, "Nothing." &lt;br /&gt;"It doesn't sound like nothing." &lt;br /&gt;"Well, we aren't doing anything to break the house."&lt;br /&gt; "Okay.  Well, don't break each other either." &lt;br /&gt;"Okay.  We won't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need parenting lessons?  I offer them for a small fee...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4275825816529821969?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4275825816529821969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4275825816529821969' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4275825816529821969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4275825816529821969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-was-playing-on-line-poker-what-did.html' title='I was Playing On-Line Poker, What Did You Expect?'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-6826321356899576760</id><published>2010-01-11T10:10:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T10:10:23.446-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Shoes!</title><content type='html'>They are supposed to be slippers, so they are warm! The hard soles tell me I can wear them wherever I want!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/mari.ickes/SlowingDown?authkey=Gv1sRgCLvC5bXu2PmxwQE#5425515306191651554'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0tNbOT_guI/AAAAAAAAAiA/fO7ObuDiYuM/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On clearance at Target for $11.88.  I love you, Target!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6826321356899576760?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6826321356899576760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6826321356899576760' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6826321356899576760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6826321356899576760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-shoes.html' title='New Shoes!'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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://lh3.ggpht.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0tNbOT_guI/AAAAAAAAAiA/fO7ObuDiYuM/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-4308509334405590545</id><published>2010-01-10T17:43:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T17:57:47.550-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weekly Winners'/><title type='text'>Weekly Winners, January 3rd-9th, 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sarcasticmom.com/images/weeklywinnersnew.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 100px;" src="http://sarcasticmom.com/images/weeklywinnersnew.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the inspiration, &lt;a href="http://sarcasticmom.com/"&gt;Sarcastic Mom&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0pkgAHeaDI/AAAAAAAAAhk/9-o9Hkg4xaE/s1600-h/IMG_0313.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0pkgAHeaDI/AAAAAAAAAhk/9-o9Hkg4xaE/s400/IMG_0313.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Keira made crowns for us.  They were the inverse cut-out from her construction paper when she made butterflies for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0plkQnxcxI/AAAAAAAAAh0/8QmvqE-nNSo/s1600-h/IMG_0326.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0plkQnxcxI/AAAAAAAAAh0/8QmvqE-nNSo/s400/IMG_0326.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What do the children of a professional educator do during their free time?  I would like to note that both of those DSs &lt;s&gt;are&lt;/s&gt;  were at one time mine, and YES, the boy is playing the pink one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0pkpynul9I/AAAAAAAAAhs/IJyghYNd6yk/s1600-h/IMG_0316.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0pkpynul9I/AAAAAAAAAhs/IJyghYNd6yk/s400/IMG_0316.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4308509334405590545?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4308509334405590545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4308509334405590545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4308509334405590545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4308509334405590545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/01/weekly-winners-january-3rd-9th-2010.html' title='Weekly Winners, January 3rd-9th, 2010'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0pkgAHeaDI/AAAAAAAAAhk/9-o9Hkg4xaE/s72-c/IMG_0313.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-159778154735902620</id><published>2010-01-09T17:25:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T17:49:49.342-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Atonement: Book vs Movie</title><content type='html'>I have recently finished reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Atonement&lt;/span&gt; by Ian McEwan.  Like most books I read, I tried not to find out anything about the plot or characters before reading it, which was great in this case, but it really through me for a loop when I found out the reason for the title.  I hadn't expected Briony to be the one atoning.   I have been digesting the story for a few days, trying to figure out how to summarize it.  The plot is somewhat simple, but it seems complex when I try to put it into words!&lt;br /&gt;After finishing the book, I watched the movie.  While the movie follows the book almost exactly, I enjoyed the book much more.  The book allows the reader to know the thoughts and feelings of the characters, which is lost in the movie.  I LOVED Briony (what a fantastic name!) in the book; I didn't really connect with her on the screen.  I didn't really feel a connection with any of the characters in the movie.  From reading the novel, I knew the history of Robbie and Cecilia's lives, which  made their falling in love more realistic and believable in the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The language Ian McEwan uses in the book is beautiful; he is so descriptive and eloquent.  It would take me forever to write such "pretty" sentences!  Here's one of my favs: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Briony resisted because she wanted to chase in solitude the faint thrill of possibility she had felt before, the elusive excitement at a prospect she was coming close to defining, at least emotionally." (chapter 3) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Here is what I would've written: "She didn't do it because she was afraid of the truth."&lt;br /&gt;Talk about eloquence!  Maybe Ian writes a blog.  We would all be better for reading that one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So, anyway, I enjoyed the movie, but it was mainly because I had already read the book.  I have to wonder if I would have liked the movie better if I hadn't read the book, but I kinda feel like I wouldn't have liked the movie at all...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-159778154735902620?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/159778154735902620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=159778154735902620' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/159778154735902620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/159778154735902620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/01/atonement-book-vs-movie.html' title='Atonement: Book vs Movie'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-4232602912792286601</id><published>2010-01-08T14:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T14:47:18.951-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on Dash</title><content type='html'>Well, I think Skyla is still in heat, but Dash has lost interest in her. Whoo hoo!  No more whining and scratching at the door to get to her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weird part of this story is that Dash still feels amorous, but now it is directed towards Charlie.  Charlie is our old, fat, almost crippled, black lab. He has been neutered.  &lt;br /&gt;Whenever Dash gets the chance, he is trying to cuddle and lick Charlie's face and ears!  It is as if Dash is trying to woo him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/mari.ickes/SlowingDown?authkey=Gv1sRgCLvC5bXu2PmxwQE#5424473371675328658'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0eZypxGAJI/AAAAAAAAAhA/frwO_AyhxxA/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even more disturbing, I think Sky is still in heat because she keeps...uh...strutting her stuff in Charlie's face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/mari.ickes/SlowingDown?authkey=Gv1sRgCLvC5bXu2PmxwQE#5424473395775667442'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0eZ0DjD_PI/AAAAAAAAAhE/zNTh7klkTpU/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie has gone from the lump that occupies space to the mac-daddy of our doggy population!  Unfortunately for Charlie, he is not enjoying his new status quo. The annoyed look on his face says he misses his alone-time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasaweb.google.com/mari.ickes/SlowingDown?authkey=Gv1sRgCLvC5bXu2PmxwQE#5424473418299891554'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0eZ1XdQX2I/AAAAAAAAAhI/fIuqObyE-Us/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='280' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Charlie!  Hopefully soon the raging hormones will settle down and he can have some peace!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4232602912792286601?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4232602912792286601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4232602912792286601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4232602912792286601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4232602912792286601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/01/update-on-dash.html' title='Update on Dash'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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://lh4.ggpht.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0eZypxGAJI/AAAAAAAAAhA/frwO_AyhxxA/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-3772204598421687480</id><published>2010-01-04T23:37:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T23:37:22.447-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppy Love</title><content type='html'>It is currently mating season in our house, and Josh and I are trying desperately to make sure no puppies get made!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Christmas, we inherited Skyla from our neighbor. He couldn't take care of her, and we seem to attract dogs, so Skyla joined our family.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, Skyla had not yet been spade when she came over. The main problem with this is that Dash has not yet been neutered either. Normally, it isn't a problem-neither one is too randy; however, this is not currently the case.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Skyla is in heat, and Dash is more desperate than (insert witty  metaphor here-I can't think of one).&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;We have had to keep Dash in his cage all day and all night. When we let him out to drink and go outside, he goes berserk: chasing, humping, licking, chasing.  When he is in his cage, he cries, whines, barks, digs.  I don't think he sleeps even. If he does, I'm certain he is dreaming of Skyla!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-3772204598421687480?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/3772204598421687480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=3772204598421687480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3772204598421687480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3772204598421687480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/01/puppy-love.html' title='Puppy Love'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-1793571170994744989</id><published>2010-01-03T17:47:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T17:55:16.833-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weekly Winners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Weekly Winners 12/27-1/2/10</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0EufrDf8AI/AAAAAAAAAgo/RjM6Xitu6fQ/s1600-h/IMG_0279.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0EufrDf8AI/AAAAAAAAAgo/RjM6Xitu6fQ/s320/IMG_0279.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422666547999010818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Gingerbread House THIS week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We left the dogs alone with it for too long!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lego Rock Band!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0EuwsZwxyI/AAAAAAAAAgw/nLPgMxgvJ_I/s1600-h/IMG_0301.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0EuwsZwxyI/AAAAAAAAAgw/nLPgMxgvJ_I/s320/IMG_0301.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422666840418600738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0EvC6kfReI/AAAAAAAAAg4/eiQrASt41S0/s1600-h/IMG_0295.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0EvC6kfReI/AAAAAAAAAg4/eiQrASt41S0/s320/IMG_0295.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422667153459332578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go check out the other Weekly Winners from &lt;a href="http://sarcasticmom.com/"&gt;Sarcastic Mom&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-1793571170994744989?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/1793571170994744989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=1793571170994744989' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1793571170994744989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1793571170994744989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2010/01/weekly-winners-1227-1210.html' title='Weekly Winners 12/27-1/2/10'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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/_1UYACpYr8oQ/S0EufrDf8AI/AAAAAAAAAgo/RjM6Xitu6fQ/s72-c/IMG_0279.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-5147842658818944859</id><published>2009-12-27T09:06:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T17:55:16.834-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weekly Winners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Weekly Winners 12/20-12/26</title><content type='html'>In an attempt to SLOW DOWN and remember what life is all about, I'm joining &lt;a href="http://sarcasticmom.com/"&gt;Sarcastic Mom's&lt;/a&gt; Weekly Winners photo gallery.  I really enjoy writing in my blog, and I really enjoy taking pictures, but when I have a minute to sit down, I think of it as more of a chore than a hobby.  I don't want it to be that way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are my weekly winners:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/Szd7O1MZFGI/AAAAAAAAAfI/tGAIKGw9peY/s1600-h/IMG_0254.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/Szd7O1MZFGI/AAAAAAAAAfI/tGAIKGw9peY/s400/IMG_0254.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The first day of Christmas break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/Szd7WvJF3qI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/qnQ5Upmo76Q/s1600-h/IMG_0253.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/Szd7WvJF3qI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/qnQ5Upmo76Q/s400/IMG_0253.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We made the Gingerbread House on the second day of break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/Szd50oVgicI/AAAAAAAAAe4/8O3K1HD0IW4/s1600-h/IMG_0269.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/Szd50oVgicI/AAAAAAAAAe4/8O3K1HD0IW4/s400/IMG_0269.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Decorating cookies for Santa.  Everyone except for Keira gave up after about 3 cookies.  She stayed at the counter by herself for about an hour, making sure every one of them was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/Szd6Xu6MazI/AAAAAAAAAfA/gPRfxnA9Uqc/s1600-h/IMG_0270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/Szd6Xu6MazI/AAAAAAAAAfA/gPRfxnA9Uqc/s400/IMG_0270.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keira in her new Snuggie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5147842658818944859?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5147842658818944859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5147842658818944859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5147842658818944859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5147842658818944859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/12/weekly-winners.html' title='Weekly Winners 12/20-12/26'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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/_1UYACpYr8oQ/Szd7O1MZFGI/AAAAAAAAAfI/tGAIKGw9peY/s72-c/IMG_0254.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-6518422990423331277</id><published>2009-12-05T20:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T20:31:10.271-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>My iPhone</title><content type='html'>I just downloaded an app for my iPhone that let's me update from my phone. &lt;br /&gt;Maybe that'll make me more motivated to blog. Let's see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6518422990423331277?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6518422990423331277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6518422990423331277' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6518422990423331277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6518422990423331277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-iphone.html' title='My iPhone'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-5395663921656758393</id><published>2009-07-24T19:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T19:26:35.692-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Rachael and Mari</title><content type='html'>I feel like &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1135503/"&gt;Julie&lt;/a&gt;! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another successful recipe from Rachael Ray's 365: No Repeats cookbook. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We cooked #83, Ginger Vegetable Chicken Noodle Bowl.  It worked out fantastically because Josh was the chopper and dicer and I was the stirrer and combiner.  It was a lot of fun working in the kitchen with Josh, and I didn't have to do the part that I hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The noodles were DELICIOUS.  Seriously, I had some of the leftovers for breakfast the next morning.  It had the perfect amount of ginger.  I would add more bean sprouts next time.  Josh wants to try it with shrimp too.  That'd be so yummy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to make this one again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-7598612747354578084?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/7598612747354578084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=7598612747354578084' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7598612747354578084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7598612747354578084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/07/tagged.html' title='Tagged'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-7655522735540156230</id><published>2009-07-17T12:21:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T12:32:45.641-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>THAT DREAM</title><content type='html'>Have you ever had &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; dream where you are getting ready for work-you have a shower, brush your teeth, get dressed, etc, only to wake up and have to do it all over again?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, last night I had an even WORSE dream!  I dreamt that (for some crazy reason) we had a teenager staying with us, and we had set up a bed for her in our room.  It was &lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/11/cuddle-night.html"&gt;cuddle night&lt;/a&gt;, so I was trying to sleep with Night.  Night and the other girl kept talking and arguing and keeping me up.  WHAT A HORRIBLE DREAM-a dream that you aren't getting any sleep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top that off, the dogs actually DID wake me up at their normal time of 5:30am, begging to go outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was your night?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-2024803781516980751?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/2024803781516980751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=2024803781516980751' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2024803781516980751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2024803781516980751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/07/makin-mum-proud.html' title='Makin&apos; Mum Proud'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-3570942441861853717</id><published>2009-07-10T10:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T10:24:45.781-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>My Family Left Me...Again</title><content type='html'>My kids and handsome husband went back up to Indiana to visit his family for about a week.  They will be back Sunday night.  I stayed here because I had a few inservices for school, but most importantly, we needed someone to take care of the FOUR DOGS (what were we thinking-four dogs?!).&lt;br /&gt;Here is how it has been so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day One:&lt;/span&gt;  Bliss.  It was so quiet, calm.  Did I mention QUIET?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Two:&lt;/span&gt;  I cleaned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Three:&lt;/span&gt; I got drunk.  (Okay-it was Night Three, but that didn't fit the pattern, and I didn't really get drunk, I just had &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;two&lt;/span&gt; glasses of wine, but with my &lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/07/two-cupcakes-in-one-week.html"&gt;new eating style&lt;/a&gt;, not having food to buffer the alcohol, it made me drunk!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Four:&lt;/span&gt; The novelty of having the house to myself has worn off.  I'm counting down the hours until I had have someone to mess it up and make it loud... Well, maybe just one more day to myself will be okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-3570942441861853717?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/3570942441861853717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=3570942441861853717' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3570942441861853717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3570942441861853717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-family-left-meagain.html' title='My Family Left Me...Again'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-2100829555396799609</id><published>2009-07-08T10:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T10:58:57.420-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Why is It?</title><content type='html'>That when I put the trash out the night before, the trash dumpster doesn't show up until 10:00, but when I forget, he's there promptly at 7:00am?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry~I remembered last night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-2100829555396799609?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/2100829555396799609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=2100829555396799609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2100829555396799609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2100829555396799609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/07/why-is-it.html' title='Why is It?'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-5841144845600373489</id><published>2009-07-06T09:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T09:40:02.247-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fitness'/><title type='text'>Mid-Week Evaluation</title><content type='html'>I just feel a sense of FREEDOM from my new way of eating.  I haven't felt guilty one time since I've started eating according to my "thintuition."  I've eaten pancakes, cookies, salad, biscuits, sandwiches, peanutbutter, apples, chips, cheese, veggies, rice, chicken, Indian food, ice cream (no cupcakes yet, ironically).  Whenever I get nice and hungry, I eat whatever sounds delicious at that time.  I've even been thinking about baking and cooking, but yesterday's &lt;a href="http://coconutlime.blogspot.com/2009/06/blueberry-mint-cupcakes.html"&gt;attempt&lt;/a&gt; was a disaster, so I might not revisit that idea for awhile!&lt;br /&gt;I like not having to worry about anything.  It is nice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5841144845600373489?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5841144845600373489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5841144845600373489' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5841144845600373489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5841144845600373489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/07/mid-week-evaluation.html' title='Mid-Week Evaluation'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-301828869633826270</id><published>2009-07-03T11:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T12:43:48.001-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fitness'/><title type='text'>Two Cupcakes In One Week</title><content type='html'>Earlier this week, I was upset because I have gained a few pounds.  Gained a few pounds despite working out somewhat regularly and trying to regulate what I eat.  I hadn't weighed myself in months, thinking it would just happen.  I don't want to be obsessive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to help me, Josh told me that I can't expect to lose weight when I eat the way I do.  To this I became defensive.  I've been monitoring my portions quite a bit-for about the last week or so.  Before that, I wasn't doing anything.  But, before THAT, I was trying to use the &lt;a href="http://www.weightwatchers.com/Index.aspx"&gt;Weight Watchers Points&lt;/a&gt; system.  And, before that, I was eating according to the &lt;a href="http://bodyforlife.com/"&gt;Body for Life&lt;/a&gt; plan.  And before that, I don't even remember because we are looking at more than a year ago!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as my exercise is concerned, I seem to like to change that up a bit too.  Last summer (a year ago), I followed Body for Life religiously.  I got into shape.  I wasn't thin, but I was strong and healthy-people commented on how good I looked etc.  Then, when I finished the 12 week program, it suggested I take a week off.  I did.  Then another, then another...  I loosely stuck with the eating plan eventually, and I dabbled with the exercise program, but I never really went back to it-full force.  School had started by this time, and I just didn't have the time or energy to devote myself to it.  Then, I didn't exercise at all.  Then, we joined a gym again, and I started to dabble, but I never really got into a groove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A 12-week counseling session came with our gym membership, and I have been seeing Kay for almost that long.   When she asked me what my goals were, I told her that I wanted to be healthy.  I didn't want to have to obsess over what I eat or how I work out-I just want it to be natural.  I want to be a good example for my kids.  I don't really have a "goal weight" in mind or a time either.  Although, there are days when I want to look like a supermodel TODAY, I am not really into putting in the effort that it requires.  In my sessions with Kay, she basically asks me what my eating plan is, what my exercise plan is, and how well I followed it for the week.  It seems that each week, I show up with a new plan.  I follow it pretty well, but I never stick with the same one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when Josh pointed out that eating two cupcakes in one week is a mortal sin and there is no way that I could lose weight that way, I started to think that I needed to reevaluate.  (They are &lt;a href="http://www.gigiscupcakesusa.com/"&gt;delicious cupcakes&lt;/a&gt;, but he pointed out that each one is probably more calories than I should have in a day.) Fine, I would start eating "right" and I would exercise ALL the time.  If I just buckle down for a little while, I can get "skinny" and back down on all the exercise and strict eating and then eventually be "normal," which is all that I really want anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my reevaluation process, I was thinking about what eating "right" means.  There is the low-carb approach, the low-cal approach, the Body-for-Life approach, the WW approach, the low-fat approach......  It made me think of an on-going conversation I had with one of my friends who is naturally thin.  She was asking which food is better for her.  (Like I'm the expert-she is the thin one!)  The answer I gave depended on which approach I was following at the time--"don't ever eat bacon!" or "eat all the bacon you can fit into your mouth!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does it have to be so complicated?  Why CAN'T I just eat whatever I want?  When I was just out of college-living all on my own for the first time, that is exactly what I did.  I ate whatever I wanted to eat when I was hungry.  (I was following a system developed by a &lt;a href="http://www.weighdown.com/"&gt;Religious Whack-a-Do&lt;/a&gt;, but the eating concept behind it makes sense.  Don't get me started on the religious aspect, though.)   I lost weight naturally without even really thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought that the concept would work-listen to your body.  Shouldn't your BODY know when your BODY needs food?  If my body is telling me to eat, shouldn't I eat?  In all the photos of pilgrims (*wink), they weren't FAT.  They didn't know about calories or fat grams.  They were just natural.  Look at my kids-they eat whatever they want whenever they get hungry.  They aren't fat.  I wasn't fat until I started to get older and worry about getting fat! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just never went back to that way of eating (wait til you are hungry, then eat whatever you want but only eat a little of it) because the woman who introduced me to it was so crazy-religious, and since I have rejected this aspect of my life, I also rejected that way of eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have, however, been looking for some guidance as to how to eat the "right" way, and there is a following called "&lt;a href="http://www.healthieroutcomes.com/mystory.html"&gt;Intuitive Eating&lt;/a&gt;," or "&lt;a href="http://www.thintuition.com/thintuition_home.php"&gt;Thintuition&lt;/a&gt;" and it is basically the same thing without all the praying and shit.  So, this is the beginning of my journey.  I CAN eat two cupcakes in one week and I CAN lose weight doing it.  I'm currently reading up on the topic.  I'll let you know what I find out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-301828869633826270?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/301828869633826270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=301828869633826270' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/301828869633826270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/301828869633826270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/07/two-cupcakes-in-one-week.html' title='Two Cupcakes In One Week'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-1243295148963254681</id><published>2009-06-28T21:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T21:44:46.542-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Such a Slave-Driver</title><content type='html'>Last night, when it was time for Keira to get ready for bed, I told her to politely ask Night to pause his game and help her brush her teeth.   She sighed and said, "He's just going to say, 'Why do I have to do everything around here?' again." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, she was right, he said it, but he was fine with brushing her teeth too.  "Everything around here" entails brushing Keira's teeth and occasionally turning the channel to a cartoon for her.  Its a pretty good gig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight as I was cleaning up the dinner dishes (right before Keira's teeth-brushing time), I thought how much I liked this new routine of having Night brush her teeth.  She can be quite... um... belligerent when it comes to &lt;s&gt;doing anything&lt;/s&gt; brushing her teeth, so Josh and I are both happy to pass off this &lt;s&gt;chore&lt;/s&gt; special bonding moment to her big brother.  It is also nice because he brushes his teeth at the same time, so it is one less task to deal with before &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; goes to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when I mentioned to both kids that it was just about time for brushing teeth, I was looking forward to the new routine we've begun establishing.  (Yes, the routine includes Night's mention about having to do everything around here.)  Before getting up, Night calmly told me, "I was thinking that maybe one of you guys could start doing some of the work around here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(me)"WHAT?  Like cooking for you, getting your drinks, washing your clothes, paying your bills?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Night)"Bills?  I don't have any bills..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(me)"You think your food is free?  You think this cushy air conditioning is free?  You have bills.  We just pay for them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Night)"Well, anyway, do you think that one of you two could brush Keira's teeth and maybe start changing the channels for her?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(me)"You are right.  We shouldn't expect so much from you.  We really do need to start helping, don't we?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Night)"Yeah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(me)"Well, you brush tonight and one of us will do it tomorrow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Night)"Okay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glad he set us straight before the Department of Labor caught us for breaking all those child labor laws.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-1243295148963254681?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/1243295148963254681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=1243295148963254681' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1243295148963254681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1243295148963254681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/06/such-slave-driver.html' title='Such a Slave-Driver'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-2135629656717274847</id><published>2009-06-27T18:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T18:51:11.745-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Losing Halloween</title><content type='html'>Nearly all of my friends are pregnant or have just had a baby.  I think this latest round of babies rivals the baby boom of the '40s.  Seriously, I'm not sure why so many people are having babies at the same time (well, I know why they are having babies, but it just seems freakishly weird that so many pregnancies/births are happening at the same time!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since Keira has &lt;s&gt;decided never to sleep&lt;/s&gt; come into our lives, Josh and I have known that our family is complete.  We LOVE, LOVE, LOVE our children, but we are looking forward to the freedom that comes with not having to change diapers and wipe butts.  Although we've decided not to have any more babies, I wish I were pregnant just so I could say, "&lt;a href="http://www.tv.com/Friends/The+One+with+the+Stripper/episode/89342/summary.html"&gt;I've got Tivo.&lt;/a&gt;"  (I know Laura would get it.)   Also, Keira says that she doesn't like babies, so that might be awkward if we get one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, as we were driving home from spending a fun afternoon at the pool with the kiddos, I started to get sad-reminiscent of how much fun we've had with the kids since they've been born.  It was then that I realized that we are probably half-way past getting to go trick-or-treating with the kids.  Night is 6.  He will probably stop going before he is twelve!  We might be able to hold out and get Keira to keep going, but I doubt it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People always say to embrace when the kids are young because they will never be the same, yada yada yada.  I think it is sinking in.  I miss my babies!  I hope they are still cute when they are adolescence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although we've decided not to have any more babies, I wish I were pregnant just so I could say, "I've got Tivo."  (I know Laura would get it.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-2135629656717274847?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/2135629656717274847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=2135629656717274847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2135629656717274847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2135629656717274847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/06/losing-halloween.html' title='Losing Halloween'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-8842803071138142855</id><published>2009-06-25T21:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T21:38:07.728-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>I wonder...</title><content type='html'>With &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Farrah_Fawcett"&gt;Farrah&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ed_McMahon"&gt;Ed&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Jackson"&gt;Michael &lt;/a&gt;dying, do ya'll think the media might have something to talk about other than &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jon_&amp;amp;_Kate_Plus_8"&gt;Jon and Kate&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8842803071138142855?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8842803071138142855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8842803071138142855' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8842803071138142855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8842803071138142855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-wonder.html' title='I wonder...'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-3779267038293703813</id><published>2009-02-25T17:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T17:57:46.590-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Hair</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZXoWtvSI/AAAAAAAAATo/CX9hz0kiZqM/s1600-h/DSC_0024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZXoWtvSI/AAAAAAAAATo/CX9hz0kiZqM/s320/DSC_0024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306886735918906658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZXgNDTiI/AAAAAAAAATw/vzn2qykf4uM/s1600-h/DSC_0056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZXgNDTiI/AAAAAAAAATw/vzn2qykf4uM/s320/DSC_0056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306886733730893346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZX4JL3yI/AAAAAAAAAT4/kX9ekwxIkRA/s1600-h/DSC_0055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZX4JL3yI/AAAAAAAAAT4/kX9ekwxIkRA/s320/DSC_0055.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306886740157128482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZYDT050I/AAAAAAAAAUI/kDk5a6_Zzfg/s1600-h/DSC_0228.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZYDT050I/AAAAAAAAAUI/kDk5a6_Zzfg/s320/DSC_0228.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306886743154550594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZX-PIA7I/AAAAAAAAAUA/dVY_cbxzVVk/s1600-h/DSC_0151.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZX-PIA7I/AAAAAAAAAUA/dVY_cbxzVVk/s320/DSC_0151.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306886741792654258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZhnQQPJI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/vdGKvSombHM/s1600-h/DSC_0317.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZhnQQPJI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/vdGKvSombHM/s320/DSC_0317.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306886907422063762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZhh0bXtI/AAAAAAAAAUY/YmK243en0T8/s1600-h/DSC_0483.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZhh0bXtI/AAAAAAAAAUY/YmK243en0T8/s320/DSC_0483.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306886905963175634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXazrEjL_I/AAAAAAAAAU4/rZ2YcIvPSk8/s1600-h/DSC_0379.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXazrEjL_I/AAAAAAAAAU4/rZ2YcIvPSk8/s320/DSC_0379.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306888317195988978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the before and afters, for Anna.  I can't find an "after" of me with my eyes open.  I can't find a "before" for Josh, but I know I've taken some.  Interesting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here we are!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-3779267038293703813?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/3779267038293703813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=3779267038293703813' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3779267038293703813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3779267038293703813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/02/hair.html' title='Hair'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXZXoWtvSI/AAAAAAAAATo/CX9hz0kiZqM/s72-c/DSC_0024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-4605898208462128915</id><published>2009-02-24T19:26:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T17:41:02.668-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Tooth</title><content type='html'>Night had a loose tooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXVgDbp6vI/AAAAAAAAAS4/sFIrID0hXSk/s1600-h/DSC_0006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXVgDbp6vI/AAAAAAAAAS4/sFIrID0hXSk/s320/DSC_0006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306882482579827442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After much whining, he let Josh pull it out.  He is so adorable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXVoawcWYI/AAAAAAAAATA/mFU7kQWcp9w/s1600-h/DSC_0016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXVoawcWYI/AAAAAAAAATA/mFU7kQWcp9w/s320/DSC_0016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306882626279987586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXV5_Ic6FI/AAAAAAAAATY/WRj1hO1O5ek/s1600-h/DSC_0019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXV5_Ic6FI/AAAAAAAAATY/WRj1hO1O5ek/s320/DSC_0019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306882928102139986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The new tooth is popping through already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXV5xpcOTI/AAAAAAAAATQ/odxjVy956vY/s1600-h/DSC_0018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXV5xpcOTI/AAAAAAAAATQ/odxjVy956vY/s320/DSC_0018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306882924482410802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXV539qJLI/AAAAAAAAATI/6EPowJPFBeQ/s1600-h/DSC_0017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXV539qJLI/AAAAAAAAATI/6EPowJPFBeQ/s320/DSC_0017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306882926177821874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXV6Hwi6QI/AAAAAAAAATg/sbJYW_-76x4/s1600-h/DSC_0021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXV6Hwi6QI/AAAAAAAAATg/sbJYW_-76x4/s320/DSC_0021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306882930417789186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is his third "lost" tooth.  Actually, only one is lost...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His bottom two adult teeth, much like this most recent one, were coming in before the baby teeth were pulled.  They were both loose around the same time.  I distinctly remember the first one.  We played tooth fairy and Josh put the tooth in his little treasure box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the second tooth, I don't remember it coming out!  Josh doesn't remember either.  Night says that he does, but he is 5, what does he know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We checked the treasure box--the second tooth is not there!  He now has both adult teeth in the bottom, so it had to have come out some time, but I think the tooth fairy missed that one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4605898208462128915?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4605898208462128915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4605898208462128915' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4605898208462128915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4605898208462128915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/02/tooth.html' title='Tooth'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SaXVgDbp6vI/AAAAAAAAAS4/sFIrID0hXSk/s72-c/DSC_0006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-2342047147079466371</id><published>2009-02-19T21:02:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:07:14.934-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>True Romance</title><content type='html'>Tonight, my husband bought me the book that was in my purse when it was &lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-shouldnt-have-bought-purse.html"&gt;stolen&lt;/a&gt; six months ago.  He said he had been looking for the book ever since, and this was the first time he had seen it in the store.  I had no idea!  I didn't even remember the name of the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That book is one of the most romantic presents I've ever received.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my husband.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-2342047147079466371?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/2342047147079466371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=2342047147079466371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2342047147079466371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2342047147079466371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/02/true-romance.html' title='True Romance'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-3419391733427003558</id><published>2009-02-16T08:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T09:20:58.974-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Meme</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://superrelish.blogspot.com/"&gt;SuperRelish&lt;/a&gt; tagged me for a meme a while ago, and I'm finally taking the time to fill it out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rules of the meme are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Link to the person who tagged you&lt;br /&gt;2. Post the rules&lt;br /&gt;3. Share seven random or weird facts about yourself&lt;br /&gt;4. Tag 7 random people at the end of the post with their links&lt;br /&gt;5. Let each person know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Now that you know the rules, I'll tell ya'll that I'm breaking them--I'm not tagging anyone, but I'd love for someone to do the meme anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  When I was growing up, I used to love to climb trees.  Because of this, me dad calls me MONKEY.  He has always called me Monkey.  I can remember the horrified feeling the first week of college when my dad called my dorm room and asked for MONKEY. &lt;br /&gt;2.  I don't like chocolate flavored things like ice cream and cake, but I love real chocolate like candy bars.  I really like brownies, though.&lt;br /&gt;3.  We have four dogs and a cat-all of them are named after "famous" people or characters.  Charlie is our fat black lab who never leaves the den (except to go outside).  He is named after Charlie from LOST.  Dash is our puppy.  He is some kind of mutt.  He is named after the author Dashiell Hammet (Maltese Falcon, Thin Man).  Scully is our border collie/german shepherd/chow mix.  She is named after Scully on The X Files.  Skyla is an rhodesian ridgeback/lab.  We actually didn't name her.  Our cat Orson is a fluffy black guy.  He is named after Orsen Wells.  He had a sister Wanda, named after The Fairly Odd Parents, but she ran away.  Our kids are named after people too.  Night is named after the director M. Night Shyamalan.  Keira is named after Keira Knightly.&lt;br /&gt;4.  If my kids touch me while I'm sitting down, I get sleepy.&lt;br /&gt;5.  I have no rhythm.  I can't clap on beat.  Ever.&lt;br /&gt;6.  I love to take photos.  I have 6 lomography cameras, and we just bought a new Nikon DX.  I have a huge tub of photo frames waiting to be filled and hung.  I had to stop buying frames because I wasn't using them fast enough-but now we have ink in our printer again, so watch out!&lt;br /&gt;7.  Not a day goes by when I don't think/dream about coming back to Australia to visit.  I'd LOVE to bring my family there to live.  I think they'd love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-3419391733427003558?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/3419391733427003558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=3419391733427003558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3419391733427003558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3419391733427003558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/02/meme.html' title='Meme'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-6858980435044236885</id><published>2009-02-16T08:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T08:52:28.328-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Hmm.</title><content type='html'>I'm bored with my food blog (a fact you probably already noticed since I haven't updated it!).  I really like the layout of it, and I love that I can take a photo from my cell phone and send it to the blog right away.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;My food is boring!  I never take time to prepare for it, so it is always the same stuff! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need a new subject.  Any ideas?  I'd like to continue the photo theme, and I can't write too much in each entry because only the part I write in my "subject line" on my phone shows up on the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps An idea I had and vetoed was taking a picture of myself before work every day.  I leave the house before 6:30 every morning--I'm not always picture perfect!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6858980435044236885?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6858980435044236885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6858980435044236885' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6858980435044236885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6858980435044236885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/02/hmm.html' title='Hmm.'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-7578796061907671015</id><published>2009-01-19T23:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T23:03:48.544-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>A New Experiment</title><content type='html'>I've started a blog on tumblr called FOOD.  I'm planning on taking photos (with my camera phone-nothing too fancy) of what I eat everyday.  It is just something fun, so if you want to check it out, &lt;a href="http://marigayle.tumblr.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; it is! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the pictures will keep me honest in my quest for healthier eating.  Maybe public shame will motivate me.  Of course, I started the blog today, which was a day off, and it DID NOT follow my "diet" plan.  Oh well, photos are fun!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-7578796061907671015?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/7578796061907671015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=7578796061907671015' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7578796061907671015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7578796061907671015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-experiment.html' title='A New Experiment'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-6752332207852434522</id><published>2008-12-25T15:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T15:59:16.808-06:00</updated><title type='text'>12/25/2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SVQCNFz1tWI/AAAAAAAAAO4/x2Wp92xhCHE/s1600-h/december+2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SVQCNFz1tWI/AAAAAAAAAO4/x2Wp92xhCHE/s400/december+2008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep.  Christmas day wasn't quite as calm...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6752332207852434522?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6752332207852434522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6752332207852434522' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6752332207852434522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6752332207852434522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/12/12252008.html' title='12/25/2008'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SVQCNFz1tWI/AAAAAAAAAO4/x2Wp92xhCHE/s72-c/december+2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-1383618512901475912</id><published>2008-12-23T18:22:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T18:42:38.870-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>12/23/08 A Night at Home</title><content type='html'>Josh is away working on a video.  Here is what a quiet night at my house looks like!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i62.photobucket.com/remix/player.swf?videoURL=http%3A%2F%2Fvid62.photobucket.com%2Falbums%2Fh85%2Fmari_ickes%2F7e64c7f9.pbr&amp;amp;hostname=stream62.photobucket.com"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dogs are being themselves.  The puppy Dash was just locked up, otherwise you'd be looking at completely different photos.  He likes to play... a lot! Night is busy with his (my old) ds.  Keira is playing with her little ponies (she made me do a reshoot because the ponies weren't ready in the first photo).  And what am I doing during all of this?  I'm getting dinner ready, of course!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-1383618512901475912?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/1383618512901475912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=1383618512901475912' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1383618512901475912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1383618512901475912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/12/122308-night-at-home.html' title='12/23/08 A Night at Home'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-5762168385423981644</id><published>2008-12-03T20:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T20:24:17.043-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>I'm Jealous</title><content type='html'>of my three year old daughter's coat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/?action=view&amp;amp;current=HPIM1870.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/HPIM1870.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and boots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/?action=view&amp;amp;current=HPIM1869.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/HPIM1869.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5762168385423981644?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5762168385423981644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5762168385423981644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5762168385423981644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5762168385423981644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-jealous.html' title='I&apos;m Jealous'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-4492249519622280013</id><published>2008-11-26T13:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T13:23:34.825-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Cuddle Night</title><content type='html'>Every Friday night at my house is cuddle night.  Sounds nice, doesn't it?  Don't be fooled.  Don't get me wrong-it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;can&lt;/span&gt; be nice, but it isn't always nice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuddle night started when Josh was working 3rd shift on Thursday nights.  I would let Night sleep in my bed-we'd watch a movie through once then fall asleep to it the second time through.  Okay, he'd watch a movie once then force himself to fall asleep the next time.  I'd be out like a light within the first 5 minutes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started teaching and Night went to school, we moved cuddle night to Fridays since he was staying up later than usual.  Then, Keira wanted cuddle night.  Good-bye to those romantic weekend nights with Josh.  Night had me Friday.  Keira had me Saturday.  Then, Night decided to share cuddle night with Keira,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I have my Saturday nights back!  The main problem with cuddle night is that these tiny little people I sleep with in my Queen size bed turn into giants with the longest (and meanest) legs and arms in the world!  I wake up on Saturdays with bruises!  Seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4492249519622280013?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4492249519622280013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4492249519622280013' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4492249519622280013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4492249519622280013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/11/cuddle-night.html' title='Cuddle Night'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-8573712573874509564</id><published>2008-11-20T22:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T22:48:48.273-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Football</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://f501.mail.yahoo.com/ya/download?mid=1_22_1_34644_0_AB8mvs4AACGoSSY6MgX2JlFI1Xs&amp;amp;fid=%40S%40Search&amp;amp;pid=2&amp;amp;clean=0&amp;amp;inline=1"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 640px; height: 480px;" src="http://f501.mail.yahoo.com/ya/download?mid=1_22_1_34644_0_AB8mvs4AACGoSSY6MgX2JlFI1Xs&amp;amp;fid=%40S%40Search&amp;amp;pid=2&amp;amp;clean=0&amp;amp;inline=1" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I got to supervise a football game between Advanced Band and Beginner Band.  Advanced Band won.  I guess the name says it all...  Plus, they had the only tall player--over 5'5".  Now THATs an advantage!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-6.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8573712573874509564?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8573712573874509564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8573712573874509564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8573712573874509564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8573712573874509564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/11/football.html' title='Football'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-2038780038057029086</id><published>2008-11-19T19:13:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T19:28:11.734-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Bombay Potatoes</title><content type='html'>I love to try new things.  I love to buy things that are cheap and/or on clearance.  Imagine my excitement when I saw this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SSS6HZClABI/AAAAAAAAAKA/zMmsSrgIGUc/s1600-h/HPIM1862.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SSS6HZClABI/AAAAAAAAAKA/zMmsSrgIGUc/s320/HPIM1862.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270542100073873426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bombay Potatoes.  Listed as chick peas, potatoes, and spices slow cooked in a tomato sauce.  INDIAN.  All natural, vegetarian.  AND, it is marked down from $3.09 to $1.25.  Of course I snatched it up.  We love Indian food-and from looking at the box, it looked healthy.  There were about 3 of them in the little sale basket, so I scooped them up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, it was easy to cook--either pop it in the microwave for 2 minutes or boil it on the stove for five.  Being the gourmet that I am, I chose the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine my surprise when I tore open the pouch and it was GREEN.  The picture shows a redish color, so I thought that maybe it would turn after being cooked.  (Serious doubt, though-how can 2 minutes in the microwave make that much of a difference?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this is how it turned out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SSS7Qhwe-HI/AAAAAAAAAKI/wvgorRJhypo/s1600-h/HPIM1863.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SSS7Qhwe-HI/AAAAAAAAAKI/wvgorRJhypo/s320/HPIM1863.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270543356544350322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Those chunks you see?  Not chick peas at all.  Tofu.  Definitely tofu.  Definitely NOT chick peas.  Well, I like tofu, so I decided to dig in anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SSS7kbGjx-I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/XdwFR2fei_w/s1600-h/HPIM1866.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SSS7kbGjx-I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/XdwFR2fei_w/s320/HPIM1866.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270543698355275746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keira asked what I was eating.  I showed her and asked if she wanted some (in all honesty, it looks like baby poop).  She looked.  She said, "What kind of food is it?"  I said, "Indian food."  As I brought the spoon to her mouth, she said, "I don't like that kind of food," in a very panicky voice.  "You haven't even tried it."  "Oh."  I put a tiny bit in her tiny mouth.  "mmm."  Then she ran away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night asked for seconds, though, so I guess it is a good sign.  I have no idea what we ate, but I'm fairly sure it is healthy, and it tasted yummy.  I dipped a tortilla in it and pretended my tortilla was buttered naan.  Yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wonder what are in the other boxes.  Something green with tofu or bombay potatoes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-2038780038057029086?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/2038780038057029086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=2038780038057029086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2038780038057029086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2038780038057029086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/11/bombay-potatoes.html' title='Bombay Potatoes'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SSS6HZClABI/AAAAAAAAAKA/zMmsSrgIGUc/s72-c/HPIM1862.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-8488749950168530255</id><published>2008-11-19T06:12:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T06:14:44.888-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>A Morning Person</title><content type='html'>You would think that getting up BEFORE 6:00 EVERYDAY FOR over TWO YEARS would make me a morning person.  It hasn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be a night person--I could stay up past 2am every night.  Getting up that early has ruined my owl-tendencies.  But I'm not a morning person either.  I'd be happy if I could sleep from 9:30pm to 9:30-noon every day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8488749950168530255?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8488749950168530255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8488749950168530255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8488749950168530255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8488749950168530255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/11/morning-person.html' title='A Morning Person'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-4289630904012084217</id><published>2008-11-17T17:31:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T17:55:06.713-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Pics</title><content type='html'>Now that it is almost Thanksgiving, I guess it is time to post the Halloween pictures.  I have more &lt;a href="http://www.lomography.com/"&gt;lomography ones&lt;/a&gt; that need to be scanned into the computer, but these are the ones from the digital camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/halloween-Scrapblog/?action=view&amp;amp;current=halloween-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/halloween-Scrapblog/halloween-1.jpg" alt="Scrapblog,Scrapbook,Bats and Potions" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4289630904012084217?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4289630904012084217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4289630904012084217' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4289630904012084217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4289630904012084217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/11/halloween-pics.html' title='Halloween Pics'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/halloween-Scrapblog/th_halloween-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-5607063392373394650</id><published>2008-11-17T17:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T17:30:38.458-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Maple Roses</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SSH95iBdUAI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/cv3vzurTOP8/s1600-h/HPIM1857.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SSH95iBdUAI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/cv3vzurTOP8/s320/HPIM1857.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried making &lt;a href="http://haha.nu/creative/how-to-make-roses-from-maple-leaves/"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt;.  It didn't turn out very well, but Keira likes them!  I didn't read about the needing thread part until I already started, and I can't find the thread.  Yes, I'm quite the home-maker.  I can't even FIND my thread...  Cute idea, though!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5607063392373394650?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5607063392373394650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5607063392373394650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5607063392373394650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5607063392373394650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/11/maple-roses.html' title='Maple Roses'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SSH95iBdUAI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/cv3vzurTOP8/s72-c/HPIM1857.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-5627869755093435159</id><published>2008-11-16T21:38:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T21:53:09.407-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Slowing Down</title><content type='html'>The purpose of my blog originated as a place to SLOW DOWN and reflect.  I felt like my life was passing by so quickly.  I wanted to take the time to record what was happening so that I could relish this time in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been taking the time to slow down lately!  I'm going to try to write at least 5 times this week.  There is my goal; it might be boring, but it is my story!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this morning, I went to work at the restaurant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a busy day, so the pay was good, and the time went quickly enough.  I really enjoy my job as a waitress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went to Kroger and bought groceries.  We used to make oatmeal pancakes 2-3 times a week, and we haven't had them in over 2 months.  Night has been requesting them, so I got all the ingredients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I came home.  Josh took a nap, I wrote lesson plans.  Keira played on the computer, Night played on the Nintendo 64.  We really strive for family togetherness on the weekends...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh woke up and started making the pancakes with the kids.  I just finished my last lesson for the week (8th graders are learning negative exponents--tough) and sat down to play de Blob with Night while Josh finished up the pancakes.  Then the blender broke.  I ZOOMED to Target and bought a new one.  I literally had 5 minutes to make my choice.  I hate that!  I walked out the door at 1 minute to closing.  There were about 6 other customers after me, I didn't feel too guilty.  I normally feel guilty for those kinds of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I came home.  Josh finished making the pancakes.  I'm waiting for mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to brush Keira's teeth (and probably get yelled at for something)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5627869755093435159?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5627869755093435159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5627869755093435159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5627869755093435159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5627869755093435159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/11/slowing-down.html' title='Slowing Down'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-4309097312630984025</id><published>2008-10-13T11:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T13:04:10.172-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>I Shouldn't have Bought the Purse</title><content type='html'>&lt;c&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://thecia.com.au/reviews/l/images/lemony-snicket-s-a-series-of-unfortunate-events-poster-1.jpg&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://thecia.com.au/reviews/l/lemony-snicket-s-a-series-of-unfortunate-events.shtml&amp;amp;h=350&amp;amp;w=264&amp;amp;sz=22&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;start=25&amp;amp;sig2=Qblcpl-HYeqTsq-2rdUk2A&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;usg=__x8D8UHTiS9DQaOZDKumunNS_TWU=&amp;amp;tbnid=ZExHpOj8c9u5zM:&amp;amp;tbnh=120&amp;amp;tbnw=91&amp;amp;ei=CoDzSK78A5Ku8QSFiuC4Bw&amp;amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Da%2Bseries%2Bof%2Bunfortunate%2Bevents%26start%3D21%26ndsp%3D21%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26safe%3Doff%26rlz%3D1B2GGGL_enUS208US208%26sa%3DN"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid ;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ZExHpOj8c9u5zM:http://thecia.com.au/reviews/l/images/lemony-snicket-s-a-series-of-unfortunate-events-poster-1.jpg" height="120" width="91" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/c&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Yesterday was a very weird day.  So many weird things added up to what happened that I couldn't help but think of the book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A Series of Unfortunate Events.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;It started off normal. I got up and went to work at the restaurant.  We ended up being fairly slow, and one of the servers asked if I wanted to go home early.  Now, I hardly ever give up a Sunday shift because they are quite profitable, so here lies event number one.  I said, "Sure!"&lt;/span&gt;  How nice to spend a weekend day with my family!&lt;br /&gt;    So, I went to MICHAELS and bought some fun Halloweeny type crafts to decorate the house, and I went home.  Night and I had gone to the pumpkin patch on Friday with his school, so we had two pumpkins that needed baths.  We then took our Mr. Potato Head parts and decorated the pumpkins for Halloween.  As we were decorating, Night suggested that we all go to the YMCA.  What a fantastic idea!  (bad idea, event #2) Josh and I have been slacking in the exercise department, and this would be a perfect day to go.  Since the Y's daycare closed soon, we decided to go to the Y then come back home and finish decorating.&lt;br /&gt;    The kids ran in and got their juice boxes while Josh and I got dressed to work out.  We got in Betty (Ugly Betty is our Xterra).  Night realized he left his juice box in the house, so I ran in to get it.  I then remembered that we were out of dog food, so we should stop at Kroger on the way back; I grabbed my purse. &lt;br /&gt;    We had a fabulous work out at the Y, at least that is what we kept telling ourselves in between sets.  My arms are killing me today, so I guess that is a sign of a good workout!  We picked up the kids, about 2 minutes before the daycare closed, and walked out to Betty.  Some stupid jerk had broken Betty's window and snatched my purse!  We were only in the Y about an hour!  We were parked in front of the windows where the cardio machines look out.&lt;br /&gt;    We filed a police report, and they took fingerprints.  The Y pulled the video tapes; it seems the machines have been broken since Friday (did I mention a series of unfortunate events?).    I am upset because my cash from the weekend was in the purse, but luckily I had taken all but our spending money out; I am annoyed because my cell phone (which I usually forget at home) was in my purse, but it was an old phone anyway; I am furious because two of my precious &lt;a href="http://www.lomography.com/"&gt;lomography&lt;/a&gt; cameras were in my purse and the photos from the pumpkin patch were on them.  The bastard who stole my purse won't even know what to do with them!  My phone wasn't worth much, so he (or she) is walking away with about $100, but it will cost us over $500 to recover.  $500 is a lot of money right now!&lt;br /&gt;    We came home and finished decorating the house (after calling insurance etc).  Josh is going to get me a phone today (btw, I don't have anyone's phone number, so if you have to call me so I'll have your number!), and they are coming to fix the window tomorrow.  I guess everything will go back to normal then, but I can't help but wonder if I'd never bought the purse (Friday on clearance at Target for $11-it was big and green, so the thief probably saw it easier than my other purse)... or if I would have stayed at work... or if we would've gone for a walk instead of the Y... or if Night wouldn't have forgotten his juice... or if I would've gotten the dog food on the way home from work... or...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;c&gt;&lt;div style="width:360px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w62.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/0e014175.pbw" height="360" width="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/c&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least they didn't take this camera!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4309097312630984025?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4309097312630984025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4309097312630984025' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4309097312630984025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4309097312630984025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-shouldnt-have-bought-purse.html' title='I Shouldn&apos;t have Bought the Purse'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-5243473347628424085</id><published>2008-09-18T18:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T18:40:01.286-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Keira Turns THREE</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width:400px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w62.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/3rd birthday/323fc358.pbw" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/3rd%20birthday/?action=view&amp;amp;current=323fc358.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5243473347628424085?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5243473347628424085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5243473347628424085' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5243473347628424085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5243473347628424085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/09/keira-turns-three.html' title='Keira Turns THREE'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-1935818170344097239</id><published>2008-09-15T17:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T17:51:04.328-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Needs Video Games?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SM7lbTnIWTI/AAAAAAAAAJw/OyM4ugAX_mI/s1600-h/HPIM1762.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="left: 348px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-07338619111615221 visible" href="http://i62.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/HPIM1762.flv"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i62.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/HPIM1762.flv" height="361" width="448"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a new FRONT LOADING washing machine.  The kids love it.  Today I tripped over Keira's juice cup that was lying beside the washing machine.  Josh said she had her snack while she was watching the washing machine today...&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-1935818170344097239?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/1935818170344097239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=1935818170344097239' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1935818170344097239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1935818170344097239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/09/who-needs-video-games.html' title='Who Needs Video Games?'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-3950064437264944163</id><published>2008-09-01T21:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T22:09:27.555-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>OCD or Terrible Twos?</title><content type='html'>It seems that whenever I do...anything with Keira, she takes whatever I do, starts it over, and then does it all by herself.  ("All myself" is how she pronounces it.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brushing teeth time?  I open the drawer with the toothbrushes.  She CLOSES the door and opens it herself.  I pick up her toothbrush.  She puts the toothbrush down and picks it back up.  I turn the water on.  She turns the water off then back on again.  (you get the picture...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It never changes.  The thing is if I just wait for her to do it without my intervention, she argues and says she doesn't want to do it. (&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It&lt;/span&gt; being ANYTHING that I want her to do.)  I just think she likes the process of being obstinate.  You should see what she does if we skip the whole let her do it herself step.  It gets pretty ugly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, tonight as I was watching Keira put the lid back on the vitamins so she could take it off, I began to wonder if this is how OCD starts?  She gets so used to repeating everything that she does that it becomes habit then it becomes a need.  Am I fostering OCD in my 2 year old because I don't want her to yell at me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping it is just the terrible twos.  She turns three in a few weeks.  It will all end then, right?  We leave the terrible twos and go into the terrific threes, right?  Her attitude changes completely, right???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-3950064437264944163?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/3950064437264944163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=3950064437264944163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3950064437264944163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3950064437264944163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/09/ocd-or-terrible-twos.html' title='OCD or Terrible Twos?'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-5113393096230890121</id><published>2008-08-27T20:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T20:28:32.052-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Voicethread</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="360"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://voicethread.com/book.swf?b=182561"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://voicethread.com/book.swf?b=182561" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="480" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border="0" width="0" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTIxOTg4Njc1NzM4OCZwdD*xMjE5ODg2NzgyNTkwJnA9MjA2NDIxJmQ9YjE4MjU2MSZuPWJsb2dnZXImZz*y.gif" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm very new at this.  I only found voicethread this afternoon, but it so cool!  I can't wait to find out more about it!  &lt;a href="http://voicethread.com/"&gt;Try it&lt;/a&gt;!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5113393096230890121?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5113393096230890121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5113393096230890121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5113393096230890121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5113393096230890121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/08/voicethread_27.html' title='Voicethread'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-6837387487949818054</id><published>2008-08-23T10:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T14:31:28.781-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>New Shoes</title><content type='html'>On a superficial note, one of the things that I have been enjoying most about being a teacher rather than a waitress (well, I'm still waitressing on the weekends...) is that I don't have to wear that ugly uniform!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since it had been so long since I'd worn anything but the uniform, my closet was pretty bare. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to Macy's one day after waitressing and picked out a butt-load of clothes.   I am basically a clearance shopper, and I was lucky enough to find lots of deals.  When I got to the cashier, she told me that if I donated $12 to a charity that buys books for kids, Macy's would give me $10 off my order.  She did this the maximum number of times it was allowed for my purchase price, bringing my $160 total down to $75.  I'm not sure how it worked out that way; it didn't seem right, so I practically ran out of the store before she realized she'd made a mistake!  (actually, I don't think it was a mistake, but it really did seem like it was too good to be true!)  Since all of the things I had purchased were on clearance, I got about $650 worth of clothes for $75.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next, I went to Payless and got 4 new pairs of shoes with their BOGO sale.  Target was also having clearance on shoes.  Jackpot!  I've enjoyed dressing up everyday!  I've looked very cute, from my jewelry (I've already had a collection of cute jewelry since that is the only bit of personality that I've been able to wear with my uniforms) to my clothes, to my shoes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until Wednesday...Wednesday a huge blister showed up on my left pinky-toe.  I had already had some blisters on my heels from the new shoes, but they weren't bad enough to really hurt me.  The toe-blister, however, was not good.  When I was getting dressed for school on Wednesday, I ended up changing my whole outfit so I could wear more comfortable shoes.  Thursday, I picked out my outfit based on comfy shoes.  By Friday, I had thought I was ready for heels again.  My toe hurt, but not as badly as it had been.  The heels I had picked out were comfy ones, so I didn't think much about it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then in my first class, I decided that I couldn't wear my shoes anymore because my pinky was all red and sore.  No problem, I just took my shoes off.   The problem came when I tried to put the shoes back on...  My left foot was so swollen that I could hardly get it on!  Since our school consists of two buildings, and I needed to take the kids to the other building (across the hot black-top parking lot), this really was a problem.  I hobbled throughout the day this way, keeping my shoe off as much as possible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the end of the day, my foot was swollen and the whole foot was red rather than just the toe.  There were red streaks all the way to my ankle bone.  I decided I needed to stop at the clinic.  I stopped at CVS's minute clinic, thinking she'd give me a prescription for an antibiotic and I'd be on my way.  She looked at my foot and freaked out.  She said it was too severe for her to take care of and that I needed to go to a different clinic right away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Turns out that I needed an antibiotic shot.  The doctor told me that if it got any worse by this morning, it meant that they hadn't given me the shot fast enough and that I needed to go to the emergency room.  Whoa.  It is better now, but I still can't walk on it.  I have to keep it raised, and I obviously didn't go to work (waitressing) today.  I kind of feel like a queen, making everyone bring me stuff and what-not.  I should relish it today since tomorrow I'll be back to being the one being bossed.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moral of the story-don't buy cute new shoes?  Naw, that couldn't be it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6837387487949818054?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6837387487949818054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6837387487949818054' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6837387487949818054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6837387487949818054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-shoes.html' title='New Shoes'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-7619224816696911800</id><published>2008-08-23T10:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T10:51:55.723-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>The First Week of School</title><content type='html'>Whew.  I feel like my week has consisted of waking up before dawn, running around like crazy, then sleeping (dreaming of running around like crazy) for 5 minutes, and then starting all over again by waking up before dawn!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I started my new teaching position last Monday with inservices, which also included reading a whole lot of books about &lt;a href="http://www.tecweb.org/styles/gardner.html"&gt;Garner's Multiple Intelligences&lt;/a&gt;.  Then, this week was the first week that the kids came to school.  It has been a wonderful week.  I love my students.  I love only having 16 of them in a class!  I'm overwhelmed with trying to do all of my lesson plans MI style, but I'm sure I'll get it down... eventually. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Night also started school for the first time this week!  Actually, he went for half a day one day the previous week, but the actual first day was the same as mine.  I was very sad that I couldn't be here, but such is life!  I do have the pictures to post, but they are on my phone, and I'm not sure how to get them onto the computer!  Night insisted on riding the school bus rather than being taken to school.  To me, riding the bus seems scary, but what do I know?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, we've all been trying to adjust to our new schedules.  We all went for so long doing the same thing over and over that we had grown accustomed to our monotony.  Then all of the sudden, EVERYTHING CHANGED at once.  Josh is adjusting to waking up early and getting Night off to school.  The bus stop is at our corner, so luckily he doesn't have to wake up Keira.  I think she usually wakes up before the bus arrives, though.  I think the first day the two of them were alone in the house, they just sat and stared at each other!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thursday night, Night had his open house, which just happened to be the same night of MY open house.  Great timing!  I got to Night's open house, though, with about 5 minutes to spare.  Josh was there for the whole thing, though.  I did get to see Night's classroom, which by the way is about 5 times bigger than my own classroom.  I have bigger kids with less space.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 week of school down, about 40 to go!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-7619224816696911800?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/7619224816696911800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=7619224816696911800' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7619224816696911800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7619224816696911800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/08/first-week-of-school.html' title='The First Week of School'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-2765508104579281114</id><published>2008-08-09T18:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T19:53:18.351-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teaching Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Time for a New JOB</title><content type='html'>Well, I guess it is time to update my header!  I'm a teacher...again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of months ago, I went through a little bit of &lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/06/time-to-move-on.html"&gt;financial stress&lt;/a&gt;, which in turn became panic.   I told Josh that I wasn't making enough money at my 2 waitressing jobs (working a total of 5 days at the time) and that we would be poor forever and that life sucked.  After feeling sorry for myself (ourselves), we came to the conclusion that I needed a little break, so Josh got a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh got a fairly good paying job as a security officer.  He hated the job, and he was working horrible shifts.  It didn't allow for me to quit work-it just allowed for us to both be tired from working all the time--he'd work work the midnight shift; come home; then I'd go to work; then I'd come home; then he'd work second shift etc.  We didn't want to put the kids in daycare, but we weren't making it well watching them ourselves either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was at this point that I decided I should look for something more stable than waiting tables, something a little more...um, stable.  Since I have a teaching degree, and it is summer, typically when teachers get hired, I filled out some applications and sent out some resumes.  At first, it was a means to an end--not have to be a slave to those old hags who would just leave me a dollar tip after running my ass off for them, no I'm not bitter.  The more I answered why I am a good teacher and why I enjoy teaching, the more adamant I became about getting a job.  I discovered that I really miss teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I interviewed at a nearby middle school for a Math position.  I love Math, so this would be perfect.  I have to tell ya'll that I rocked that interview.  The principal told me that she would be deciding by the end of the week.  Whoo hoo!  Then, she didn't call.  And didn't call.  In fact, she never called.  She didn't even tell me that I didn't have the job!  I left several messages, I just wanted closure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the principal never called, I decided that it wasn't meant to be this year.  By this time, we had decided that both Josh and I working was NOT working, so I picked up more waitressing shifts and told Josh to quit his awful job.  It was less stressful for both of us if I was working 7 days a week with him watching the kids full time than if we tried sharing both kid-duty and work-duty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I got a call from an AWESOME private school offering me an interview for a part-time position teaching Science.  Well, Science is not my favorite, and part-time isn't ideal, but it would work-I'd still get to teach.  I would be able to supplement my income with waiting tables, so the part-time position would get my foot in the door, and I could hope for full-time next year.  So, I went to the interview; however, I had NO time to prepare myself.  I had to go straight after work one day, and I didn't have time to get into "teacher mode."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretty much bombed this interview.  I didn't even bother following up with a phone call for that one--I spent the whole drive home wondering why I answered some of the questions the way I did.  I didn't lie in my interview or anything, but think I came across as a dolt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to waitressing, and I changed my attitude around.  Tips have improved as of late, and by working 7 days a week, our income has gone up steadily.  I truly believe that attitude is everything, because I was happily going to work 7 days a week whereas a few months before I could hardly survive my 5 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings us to this previous Monday.  At the end of my shift, I checked my voicemail, and the second principal (awesome private school) called and asked if I would be interested in interviewing for a full-time Math position.  WOULD I?  I love Math!  I love full-time!  So, I called her on my way home, and she OFFERED ME THE POSITION RIGHT OVER THE PHONE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa!  Talk about whirlwind!  I drove home, and told my family that I had a new job--even though I had stopped trying to get one, and it was for a perfect school for the perfect position!  (Yes, I realize I am insane because I love teaching middle schoolers!)    After work on Tuesday, I stopped by the school and SIGNED MY CONTRACT.  The principal asked me to start the next day because they were doing a technology-training inservice.  Well, considering I hadn't quit my 7 day a week job yet, I couldn't.  She said I could start this next Monday instead, and there you have it.  I'm a teacher again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My awesome private school is based on &lt;a href="http://www.tecweb.org/styles/gardner.html"&gt;Howard Garner's Multiple Intelligences&lt;/a&gt;, which is amazing, but overwhelming because I have a lot of familiarizing to do before those kids show up next week!  So if you need me, I'll be reading and lesson planning and studying.  I am not giving up my weekend gig, either, so stop by the "other" restaurant and say howdy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-2765508104579281114?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/2765508104579281114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=2765508104579281114' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2765508104579281114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2765508104579281114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/08/well-i-guess-it-is-time-to-update-my.html' title='Time for a New JOB'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-6738202828454704318</id><published>2008-08-09T16:11:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T16:21:08.591-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Night Wants to Go to Bed?</title><content type='html'>Last night, as I was lying in bed reading around 10:00ish.  Night's bedtime is around 9:00, but Josh and Night were distracted by their video game, so time apparently got away from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, Josh had an idea.  From the bedroom, I hear, "Hey, let me pull out your tooth."  Night's tooth has been loose for about a month.&lt;br /&gt;"Ok.... Wait! It hurts!"&lt;br /&gt;"I'll be done in a minute."&lt;br /&gt;"Ouch!  Ouch!"&lt;br /&gt;"Hold on."  Josh goes and gets pliers and a paper towel.  (because that's not scary!)&lt;br /&gt;A minute later, a panic-stricken Night says, "IT IS LATE.  I SHOULD BE IN BED.  I'M TIRED. "&lt;br /&gt;Josh says, "Fine, but if you get out of bed tonight, I'm pulling that tooth!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess Night stayed in bed, because all his teeth seem to be intact today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6738202828454704318?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6738202828454704318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6738202828454704318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6738202828454704318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6738202828454704318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/08/night-wants-to-go-to-bed.html' title='Night Wants to Go to Bed?'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-734050840115315652</id><published>2008-08-04T22:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T22:16:28.333-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>A Ladies Man</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, Night told me that he had an idea for getting a girlfriend.  He said that he needed to chew gum.  It makes his cheeks go up and down.  Apparently the girls really go for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, he told me he had another idea about getting a girl to like him-show them his manly muscles, the ones on his arms and under his shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He starts Kindergarten in a few weeks.  I think he's got big plans...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-734050840115315652?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/734050840115315652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=734050840115315652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/734050840115315652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/734050840115315652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/08/ladies-man.html' title='A Ladies Man'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-3766349066764225562</id><published>2008-07-27T18:08:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T18:20:50.522-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Restaurant Stories'/><title type='text'>I Have a Famous Stalker!</title><content type='html'>When I was about 10 years old, my parents took my sister and I on "vacation" to Florida.  We stayed in a really fancy hotel, only because my parents were having a convention there.  There were about 3 pools and a shopping mall, all in the basement of this fancy hotel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the speakers at the convention was &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0103537/"&gt;Terry Bradshaw&lt;/a&gt;.  I remember that he was a speaker because I rode downstairs in the elevator with him and his entourage.  I think he patted me on my head, but I may be getting him confused with another celebrity that I rode with in an elevator in my formative years-&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Young_%28actor%29"&gt;Robert Young&lt;/a&gt;.  I was on my way to the pool of course, and he was on his way to a meeting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, 21 years later, who should walk into my restaurant today?  Yep.  Terry Bradshaw.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-3766349066764225562?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/3766349066764225562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=3766349066764225562' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3766349066764225562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3766349066764225562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-have-famous-stalker.html' title='I Have a Famous Stalker!'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-7887270769279242873</id><published>2008-07-25T20:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T20:32:09.888-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fitness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Too Sexy for my Skirt</title><content type='html'>I went to TARGET yesterday and found some fantastic clearance deals.  I bought a cute little mini-skirt for $2.98!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laid it on the counter after I got home, and Josh saw it.  I asked if he liked it, and he said that he was having dirty thoughts.  Intrigued, I went to try it on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was about 2 sizes too small!  As I tried to wrestle it over my hips, I called Keira in and told her to push my butt into my skirt for me.  We both tugged and pulled and pushed!  I looked up at Josh and asked if I looked as hot as he had imagined. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't answer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that is better than the answer he could've given!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get the skirt on-all the way even, but I think I may wait a few months before I wear it out of the house!  For now, I will just hang it outside of the closet where I can see it every morning, providing inspiration to get myself out of bed to workout!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-7887270769279242873?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/7887270769279242873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=7887270769279242873' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7887270769279242873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7887270769279242873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/07/too-sexy-for-my-skirt.html' title='Too Sexy for my Skirt'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-3152259806904896162</id><published>2008-07-18T11:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T11:34:30.255-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Another Nose Story</title><content type='html'>I don't know why I like to &lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2007/03/boogers-and-blood.html"&gt;talk about noses&lt;/a&gt;, but here I go again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, my friend at work told me an interesting (and gross) nose story that I would love to share with ya'll.  About 20 years ago when my friend's daughter was just 2 or 3 years old, she started having a distinctive, disgusting smell radiate from her.  My friend bathed her and scrubbed her, trying to get rid of the odor.  She kept  changing clothes and soaps to no avail.  Then she thought that maybe it was just all in her head.  She was a single mom, so she didn't have anyone else to smell her daughter for her; she just figured it was nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until the babysitter mentioned the smell!  Uh oh.  It wasn't all in her head, but she still didn't know what it was.  Then, one day, my friend saw her daughter sticking a pencil up her nose.  It turns out that there was a little toy in front of the pencil, and the daughter was using the pencil to RAM the toy further up into her sinus cavity!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were all kinds of things up this child's nose!  The smell was most likely coming from the food that had more than likely been up there for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;months&lt;/span&gt;!  She took the baby to the doctor, where he had to take a rod and pull everything out of the kid's nose!  My friend said it seemed like hours that she had to hold her, screaming, having the doctor pull little toy soldiers and peas out of her nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smell was gone, though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, imagine my horror when yesterday morning, I saw Keira sticking a little tiny Lego up her nose!!  It was the kind that just has one little dot-I'm talking tiny!  It was so far up in her nose that I couldn't see it.  I took my tweezers and grasped at everything (which seemed to be nothing) up her nose as my daughter wriggled on the floor.  I finally saw the little red bit of plastic, but I couldn't get it out.  I pushed on the outside and pulled on the inside, the whole time imagining a trip to the hospital.  By this time, I was sitting on her body and holding down her head with one hand and picking her nose with the other, all through screams of terror.  I'm not sure if those were my screams or Keira's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did finally get it out.  Keira told me she would never do that again because it hurt, but she then politely asked me to clean it off.  She still wanted to play with the Lego.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-3152259806904896162?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/3152259806904896162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=3152259806904896162' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3152259806904896162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3152259806904896162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/07/another-nose-story.html' title='Another Nose Story'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-6848343793008691553</id><published>2008-07-11T04:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T04:02:39.604-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Is the Sun Up Yet?</title><content type='html'>Keira has decided that she doesn't like sleeping anymore.  It works out perfectly since I've been meaning to stop being so lazy.  I mean, really, who needs to spend 6 hours at night in bed?  I can be doing so many other productive things during this time--watching infomercials for example.  Or cartoons.   Thank you for saving me, Keira.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6848343793008691553?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6848343793008691553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6848343793008691553' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6848343793008691553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6848343793008691553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/07/is-sun-up-yet.html' title='Is the Sun Up Yet?'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-1075403311464876480</id><published>2008-07-04T13:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T13:48:52.930-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Happy Mattress Sale Day</title><content type='html'>This morning, Night was in the living room watching TV, and I was (of course) playing on-line poker in the den.  Excitedly, Night came running into the den this morning.  "Mom!  It is 4th of July!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know!  Happy Fourth of July!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But, it is like a double Fourth of July!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you talking about?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Serta is having a mattress sale FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY!  Isn't that exciting?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um, yep.  Honey, you don't even need a mattress."  (He sleeps on the couch because we only have 2 bedrooms, and he wakes up his sister if he sleeps in his room, so we took away the bed.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I KNOW!  But, I could get one if I wanted-it is on SALE.  TODAY!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are right.  Super exciting."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't see the commercial, but whoever wrote it must've done a great job-marketing to kids.  That's an angle I would've never came up with on my own.  Maybe that's why I'm not in advertising...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-1075403311464876480?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/1075403311464876480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=1075403311464876480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1075403311464876480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1075403311464876480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-mattress-sale-day.html' title='Happy Mattress Sale Day'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-1219250461718800179</id><published>2008-07-03T20:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T20:51:43.375-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Too Much Mortal Kombat?*</title><content type='html'>This morning, Night told me that when he pees, he puts his knuckle-fists up behind his back just in case someone comes in to attack him.  Always be prepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*No, my five year old does NOT play Mortal Kombat.  I was just trying to be humorous.  I actually think he got his neurosis from his father, who always checks the doors about five times to make sure they are locked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-1219250461718800179?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/1219250461718800179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=1219250461718800179' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1219250461718800179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1219250461718800179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/07/too-much-mortal-kombat.html' title='Too Much Mortal Kombat?*'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-825669728949144116</id><published>2008-07-01T10:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T15:58:24.202-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WFMW'/><title type='text'>5 Ingredients or Less</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2008/05/25/wfmwbanner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2008/05/25/wfmwbanner.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-3.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-4.jpg" alt="" /&gt;Shannon is sponsoring a themed &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/"&gt;Works for Me Wednesday&lt;/a&gt; this week-5 ingredients or less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a yummy, healthy pancake recipe-full of protein and low in fat.  They are made of ingredients that you wouldn't expect to be good together, but they are DELICIOUS.  We eat them every week.  Actually, we eat them pretty much everyday.  I mix up the batter and store it in the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE this recipe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 egg whites&lt;br /&gt;2 cups cottage cheese&lt;br /&gt;2 cups oatmeal (dry cooking oats-regular kind, not instant)&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp vanilla&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp (or a little more!) of cinnamon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I also recommend some splenda-but I don't want to go over the 5 limit.  Consider it part of the recipe, though, really.)&lt;br /&gt;This makes a double batch, so you might want to half everything when you make it the first time.  You'll probably double it every time after that-if you eat them as much as we do!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just pop all the ingredients in the blender until they are batter consistency.  I spray the pan (or griddle) and cook on medium.   You can eat them plain with butter and syrup (we use "spray butter" and sugar free syrup)  or add some blueberries or strawberries when they are on the griddle.  You can also put sugar-free jelly on them.  Yummy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out other simple recipes at ROCKS IN MY DRYER!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-825669728949144116?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/825669728949144116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=825669728949144116' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/825669728949144116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/825669728949144116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/07/5-ingredients-or-less.html' title='5 Ingredients or Less'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-4564158487197081181</id><published>2008-06-29T18:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T18:30:27.261-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><title type='text'>Making Pancakes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SGgaL689oTI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ek-tQx2BMTQ/s1600-h/HPIM1735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SGgaL689oTI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ek-tQx2BMTQ/s320/HPIM1735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217448960414556466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SGgaM69YWYI/AAAAAAAAAJk/d3AJC1LjqRQ/s1600-h/HPIM1738.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SGgaM69YWYI/AAAAAAAAAJk/d3AJC1LjqRQ/s320/HPIM1738.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217448977596176770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4564158487197081181?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4564158487197081181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4564158487197081181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4564158487197081181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4564158487197081181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/06/making-pancakes.html' title='Making Pancakes!'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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://bp2.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/SGgaL689oTI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ek-tQx2BMTQ/s72-c/HPIM1735.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-6698735747808375935</id><published>2008-06-28T16:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T17:33:57.630-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Restaurant Stories'/><title type='text'>Time to Move On??</title><content type='html'>It is with reservation that I post this RANT because the &lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2007/06/on-to-my-next-restaurant-rant.html"&gt;last time&lt;/a&gt; I went off in a huff, it caused some ruckus; however, this is my blog and I'll cry if I want to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that times are getting tighter here in the USA, so I understand why I am not making as much money at work as I have previously.  People are not going out to eat as often because there are more important things on which to spend their money.  I get that.  What I DON'T get it why, when people do go out to eat, they think that it is acceptable to leave shitty tips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to love waiting tables.  It is easy work, I get paid cash daily, the environment is fun and laid back, there isn't baggage to bring home, I get to talk to a lot of people if I want to-I don't have to talk to a lot of people if I don't want to.  Even though some people may look down on serving as a lowly career, it can be a lot of work to coordinate all the tables in a timely manner; a job that I am very good at doing.  I would also say that I'm quite personable, so waitressing has been a nice job for me thus far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, on for the rant...&lt;br /&gt;I have been getting really crappy tips lately.  I would say on average, my tips used to be an average of about 20% of my sales, sometimes 18%, sometimes 22%.  From that income, I have to tip out to my helpers-hostess, busser, bartender (even if I don't have any liquor sales) etc. about 2% of my sales (no matter what the actual income is from tips, I pay out 2% of the sales).  Tips in the last couple of months have gone down SIGNIFICANTLY, and I really don't think that my service has been lacking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just think that people are holding a tighter reign on their money.  The problem with this is that since fewer people are coming into the restaurants AND the ones that do come in are leaving less money, I get hit with a double whammy that is really hurting my family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, yesterday, I had a table with three women.  Those three women sat at my table for over 3 hours during the lunch rush.  The bill was about $9.00 for one of them; $10.00 for another; and exactly $15.54 for the other one.  How do I remember exactly?  Because the third woman left me a total of $17.00 (the other two's tip equaled about $4 combined).  The third woman left me  $1.46 for THREE HOURS of service, less than ten percent.   Of that tip, $0.16 went to the hostess.  How in the world could that be acceptable?  If they would have sat for a reasonable hour, I would've been less upset, but THREE HOURS DURING THE RUSH?  They were sitting at an 8-top table, so it could've been $20 or more that I miss out on--in order to get her $1.30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had someone today completely stiff me, so that it actually COST me money to wait on him because I had to tip out even though I had no tip.  This gentlemen was angry at me, though, so I guess it is justified....  Oh wait, he was angry at me because he didn't read the menu, so maybe it isn't justified.  Let me tell you my side of the story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The couple was sitting at the table, with their menus pushed to the side when I got to the table (maybe a minute after they sat down-I saw them sit, and I went straight to the kitchen and got them water).   Thinking they must be "regulars" and already know what they want, I asked them what I could get them.  They both wanted eggs benedict with no english muffin.  Alright!  I put in there order, and someone else took them their food.  I passed by them a couple of times while they were eating, and they seemed content.  When I stopped to see if they needed anything, the man asked me, "Isn't there something else I can get instead of the breakfast potatoes?"  I told him that there was, but that there was an upcharge.  I listed some things; he asked the price; I told him I didn't know exactly (the prices are already in the computer, so I don't know exact, but I gave an estimate), but then I pointed out that he already has the potatoes.  Now, I don't think I said this in a rude manner, but he &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; already have the potatoes, so it wouldn't really be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;instead&lt;/span&gt; of the potatoes anyway, would it?  The man then proceeded to YELL at me because I should've read his mind when he ordered.  This is what he said, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Well, since I ordered no bread, you should've obviously have assumed that I am on a diet, so you shouldn't have brought me the potatoes!" &lt;/span&gt; (Oh, really, I wrongly assumed that since you didn't want the english muffin with your eggs benedict, you just didn't want an english muffin with your eggs benedict...)  I apologized and offered to bring him something, and he said no.  The wife (who is obviously also on the diet) then asked me to bring her more HALF and HALF for her coffee.  (what diet lets you have HOLLANDAISE SAUCE?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This would've been easily solved if the man would've read the menu, where it states that the breakfast comes with the potatoes and that if he wants something else, he could get it if he pays more.  OR if when the server brought him his food, he said, "Oh, I don't want those potatoes, is there something else that I can get for them?"  The server would have changed them out, and I could've just charged him the difference.  OR one of the times I walked by before he had devoured all of his food, he could have asked me and I would have probably still swapped his potatoes for something else.  OR if I would have just read his mind to begin with.  Of course, if I were the mind-reader type, I probably would have noticed that he wasn't going to tip me, and I wouldn't have brought him &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;any&lt;/span&gt; food to begin with...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this has turned into a longer post than expected.  I guess he made me a little angry.  So, as I was saying, the tips are getting slim for me and for all of my little server friends.  I don't blame people for watching their money more closely, but if they can't afford the tip, then they shouldn't go out to eat.   I can't afford to keep paying my hostess and bartender when I'm not getting paid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for listening.  I feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and if, the next time you go out to eat, you can afford to leave your server an extra dollar, do it.  You would be surprised how much difference that dollar makes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6698735747808375935?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6698735747808375935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6698735747808375935' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6698735747808375935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6698735747808375935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/06/time-to-move-on.html' title='Time to Move On??'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-9141923379842532502</id><published>2008-05-22T10:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T11:03:05.929-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Wish Me Luck</title><content type='html'>The library books are due today.  &lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/05/our-trip-to-library.html"&gt;Here we go again&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am taking my purse this time-with a diaper in it.  Night has already locked himself in the bathroom once today (at &lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2007/01/name-that-dog.html"&gt;Charlie's vet&lt;/a&gt;), so hopefully we won't have anymore bathroom incidences...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-9141923379842532502?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/9141923379842532502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=9141923379842532502' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/9141923379842532502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/9141923379842532502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/05/wish-me-luck.html' title='Wish Me Luck'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-1769636316762295700</id><published>2008-05-20T20:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T20:08:14.283-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wii'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Mario Kart</title><content type='html'>I just want to let ya'll know that even though I am horrible at my new Mario Kart for the Wii, it does not mean I am a bad driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just takes practice with the little wheel thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I can still *usually* beat Night when we are playing, so I can't be that bad at it, right?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-1769636316762295700?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/1769636316762295700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=1769636316762295700' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1769636316762295700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1769636316762295700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/05/mario-kart.html' title='Mario Kart'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-8926068751427768522</id><published>2008-05-15T18:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T18:34:13.402-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>To the Woman at the Gas Station</title><content type='html'>Dear Woman in the van at the gas station,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the purpose of your "Jesus First" license plate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it to let me know that you are putting Jesus first?  Is it to show me that you are following his principles and making this world a better place because of it?  If so, I really don't think that Jesus appreciated your cutting off this heathen.  That definitely is following the golden rule.  Cutting me off from the pump when I was obviously there first DID NOT make my world a better place.  It pissed me off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it to remind yourself that you need to put Jesus first? If so, you really need to put it somewhere INSIDE your van so &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; can see it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irritated,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mari&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8926068751427768522?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8926068751427768522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8926068751427768522' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8926068751427768522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8926068751427768522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/05/to-woman-at-gas-station.html' title='To the Woman at the Gas Station'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-4981274754585427057</id><published>2008-05-12T20:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:22:18.013-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wii'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day to Me!</title><content type='html'>Look what I got!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.nintendorevolution.ca/images/wii-mariokart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.nintendorevolution.ca/images/wii-mariokart.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, my family got me the Nintendo Wii.  This year, I got the Mario Kart to go with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my husband has turned me into a nerd.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4981274754585427057?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4981274754585427057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4981274754585427057' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4981274754585427057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4981274754585427057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-day-to-me.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day to Me!'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-4339209904137635304</id><published>2008-05-08T15:59:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:22:11.366-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Our Trip to the Library</title><content type='html'>Otherwise known as "WHY OUR FAMILY SHOULD NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE PART TWO"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live about a block from the library.  Since it has been so beautiful out lately, I decided to take the kids to the library.  The plan was for me to find my ONE book then go downstairs to the children's area where we could play with puzzles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is how the plan played out.  While I was looking for my book, the kids were at the end of my aisle looking out the window.  They were standing about 2o feet from me.  Loudly (or at least it seemed loud-we were in the LIBRARY), Night said, "I think Keira is pooping."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I should have prefaced this by saying that Keira, who is potty training, was wearing underwear.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I absently said, "Okay," without thinking about it.  I then looked over to them, and sure enough, Keira was holding her butt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran over and scooped her up.   She yelled, "I'm not pooping!  I'm not pooping!"&lt;br /&gt;"It's okay, honey, we'll just check, okay?"&lt;br /&gt;"NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I'm not pooping.  I'm not pooping!"&lt;br /&gt;(I whisper, "Sorry" to the lady studying at the table and the man looking for his books.)&lt;br /&gt;Night piped in, "She is pooping.  She is pooping," in his loud 5 year old voice.&lt;br /&gt;"NO! NO POOPING"&lt;br /&gt;"You aren't?  Okay.  Well, let's go to the bathroom anyway."&lt;br /&gt;Of course, being the veteran mother than I am, I DID NOT bring a backup pair of pants or panties or diaper or anything.  She usually does so well when we aren't at home.  It is when we are at home that she's been having the problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we FINALLY got  into the bathroom, I checked her butt,and sure enough, she had pooped.  Great.  I plopped her onto the toiled while I tried to clean her up to the best of my ability.  The whole time she is sitting, I told her to try to poop more while sitting on the toilet.  "I can't.  I'm done."  So, I cleaned her up, and we returned to the same aisle (much to my chagrin) so I could find my book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWO minutes later, Night yelled, "Keira is pooping!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever.  I just let her poop.  Her underwear was already dirty...  Where is my damn book?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THREE minutes later, Night yelled, "I have to poop."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great.  Oh! There is my book!!  At least I had something to read this time.  Off we all went to the bathroom, for the second time within four minutes, talking about poop the whole way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, of course, we couldn't skip the puzzle play time all because Keira had poop in her pants.  That would be crazy.  We played for ten minutes then rushed home to clean her up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever feel like a redneck or white trash?  If you are white trashy, you know it, don't you?  I'm beginning to suspect that I am...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4339209904137635304?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4339209904137635304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4339209904137635304' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4339209904137635304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4339209904137635304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/05/our-trip-to-library.html' title='Our Trip to the Library'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-769714590321641594</id><published>2008-04-29T13:06:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T20:14:04.575-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>I feel like my family shouldn't be allowed to leave the house...</title><content type='html'>Last weekend, we went out to a local Vietnamese restaurant.  It is a small restaurant, with maybe 12 tables.  There were maybe 4 other families eating when we walked in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we walked in, my son, VERY LOUDLY, said(as everyone turns to look at him), "Are these CHINESE people??"  A very nice young server came up and told him he was Vietnamese and didn't seem too worried about it, but my face was RED.  The server then tried to serve my children nothing but beer all night.  He was joking, of course, but Night was worried he wasn't going to get any noodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having a yelling match with Keira (in the bathroom hallway-not in the dining room though I'm sure everyone heard us and was ready for my disruptive family to get the hell out of there), we all walked across the parking lot to TARGET.  We found a very good deal on THE SIMPSONS GAME for the PS2 on clearance, but I wish we wouldn't have bought it.  It is the only thing on tv now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was time to leave, Keira threw another fit.  (terrible twos?  Can we say horrendous, abominable twos??)  Josh and Night took Keira out to the car while I finished.  She screamed the entire way.  I think I heard people talking about that horrible noise, but maybe I was just being paranoid.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Keira continued to scream for the next ten minutes.  She screamed until we pulled into the Steak n Shake parking lot, and I asked Night what kind of shake he wanted.  "Strawberry."  THEN Keira stops screaming and politely says, "I want a strawberry too please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"NO way, Keira Bryce.  You do not get an ice cream because you were screaming this whole way.  You need to be polite if you want to get treats like ice cream."  I knew it was going to be difficult, but she didn't deserve ice cream, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I looked over at Josh.  He is sheepishly looking at me with sad eyes.  I said, "She doesn't deserve ice cream."  He said, "No.  She doesn't.  But when I told her we were going out to eat, I told her we could have ice cream afterwards."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great.  Now, do I be a liar (even though it wasn't ME lying, we are a united front, so to speak) and not give her the ice cream?  Or do I be a hypocrite and give her the ice cream even though she definitely didn't deserve it?  Well, Josh and I both had a long talk with her about behaving and not SCREAMING whenever she doesn't get her way.  We then got her the strawberry shake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why doesn't parenting come with some sort of guidelines or something?  I probably wouldn't follow them, but I would at least feel like I knew what was going on!  Next time, Josh has agreed to let me know that he has bribed the child...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kind of feel like a bad parent, but she won't be the worst kid in her class... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so much easier raising a child before the child came into the picture!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-769714590321641594?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/769714590321641594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=769714590321641594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/769714590321641594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/769714590321641594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-feel-like-my-family-shouldnt-be.html' title='I feel like my family shouldn&apos;t be allowed to leave the house...'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-7209265704338650067</id><published>2008-04-16T18:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T18:22:02.553-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Spanish</title><content type='html'>When  I first log-in to blogger, it is in Spanish.  If I click on random people's profile pages, it is in Spanish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I somehow done this?  Or is Blogger going through a Spanish phase?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I fix this?  I speak UN-POKITO Spanish...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-7209265704338650067?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/7209265704338650067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=7209265704338650067' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7209265704338650067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7209265704338650067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/04/spanish.html' title='Spanish'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-3157903995980798451</id><published>2008-04-11T18:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T18:46:46.248-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Tricky</title><content type='html'>Know what is tricky?  Trying to potty train a puppy and a kid at the same time.  I never know who to yell at when I find pee on the floor...or on the couch.  (You might not want to come visit us for a little while...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-sucker.html"&gt;Dash&lt;/a&gt; was supposedly potty-trained when he came to us, but I beg to differ!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/on-having-two-year-old-in-house.html"&gt;Keira&lt;/a&gt; wasn't potty-trained when she came to us, but that is to be expected!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-3157903995980798451?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/3157903995980798451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=3157903995980798451' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3157903995980798451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3157903995980798451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/04/tricky.html' title='Tricky'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-4436181457146468563</id><published>2008-04-09T09:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T09:52:49.383-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WFMW'/><title type='text'>Kool-Aid Fun</title><content type='html'>For the first time in....a year(?), I've finally thought of a &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/"&gt;Works For Me Wednesday&lt;/a&gt; tip!! (and I'm home in time to post it!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to be healthier and spend less money, we haven't been going out to eat as often as we used to, but when we do go out to eat, I take along &lt;a href="http://www.kraftfoods.com/koolaid/koolspace/"&gt;Kool-Aid single packets&lt;/a&gt;.  Sometimes kids' meals don't include a drink, so I just order them water and then pop out the singles.  I don't let the kids have them any other time, so it is a special treat for them, and I don't have to pay an extra $2-5  bucks for the drinks (hey that can go toward the tip--take care of your servers-we have families too!).  Sure, just plain water would be even more affordable, but lets be realistic-the kids have more fun with kool-aid!  (Who doesn't, really?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have plenty of flavors (I usually have two kinds to chose from in my purse), in both sugar- free and full-hyper flavors.  Try it!  You'll like it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-4436181457146468563?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/4436181457146468563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=4436181457146468563' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4436181457146468563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/4436181457146468563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/04/kool-aid-fun.html' title='Kool-Aid Fun'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-826386671788722246</id><published>2008-04-04T21:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T21:37:04.312-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>I'm a Sucker</title><content type='html'>for a cute dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may remember that we got &lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2007/02/anyone.html"&gt;Charlie&lt;/a&gt; from freecyle.org about a year ago when someone listed that the owner had died.  Anyway, there are a lot of offers for dogs on freecycle.  I usually read them, and Josh says, "YES! YES!" and I say, "Yeah right.  As if we don't have enough going on in our little house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, yesterday there was an offer for an AUSSIE MIX PUPPY.  I don't know what that means, but I do know that I like dogs, and I like Aussie...  So, the story started out the same but ended differently!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet Dash.  (probably Dash, what do you think of MAX?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R_bkDhyi__I/AAAAAAAAAJE/Pv3KUcvvlpM/s1600-h/HPIM1486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R_bkDhyi__I/AAAAAAAAAJE/Pv3KUcvvlpM/s320/HPIM1486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185582770224824306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R_bkGByjAAI/AAAAAAAAAJM/k2WRxDFnpV0/s1600-h/HPIM1488.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R_bkGByjAAI/AAAAAAAAAJM/k2WRxDFnpV0/s320/HPIM1488.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185582813174497282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Apparently Aussie Mix means um... mutt.  He looks nothing like an Australian Shepherd, does he?  You can't really see his body type, but I really think he looks like a long haired daschund.  I was kind of expecting a herder type dog, but this little guy won't be herding anything!    Anyway, he is adorable, and we all love him.  Well, Scully (lead dog in our house) is getting used to him.  She is mildly amused by him...as long as he stays away from her food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Scully, she helped us clean out the fridge today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R_blLxyjABI/AAAAAAAAAJU/unJda-c4hI4/s1600-h/HPIM1484.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R_blLxyjABI/AAAAAAAAAJU/unJda-c4hI4/s320/HPIM1484.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185584011470372882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a great little helper!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-826386671788722246?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/826386671788722246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=826386671788722246' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/826386671788722246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/826386671788722246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-sucker.html' title='I&apos;m a Sucker'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R_bkDhyi__I/AAAAAAAAAJE/Pv3KUcvvlpM/s72-c/HPIM1486.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-3550548425438691559</id><published>2008-03-16T21:53:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:22:38.171-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Night Turns Five!</title><content type='html'>Night turned 5 this past Wednesday.  Of all the possible things he could do to celebrate, he decided he wanted to go to &lt;a href="http://www.ihop.com/"&gt;IHOP&lt;/a&gt;.   Alrighty!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As is tradition in my lil family, we woke Night up* by singing Happy Birthday to him with a candle-lit muffin.  Since the muffins usually end up half-eaten (I guess the presents are a bit of a distraction), I decided to be conservative and buy MINI-muffins-one for each of us.  That'd be perfect, right-we were going out for breakfast after all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93tG9-swII/AAAAAAAAAH4/v0hHRfryRRM/s1600-h/HPIM1424.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93tG9-swII/AAAAAAAAAH4/v0hHRfryRRM/s320/HPIM1424.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178555850518478978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93tHd-swJI/AAAAAAAAAIA/aZ9_u0Q5C68/s1600-h/HPIM1425.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93tHd-swJI/AAAAAAAAAIA/aZ9_u0Q5C68/s320/HPIM1425.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178555859108413586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Josh then informed me that mini muffins don't have enough surface area to allow for safety.  The candle melted all over Josh's hand when Night blew it out!!&lt;br /&gt;Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93t_N-swKI/AAAAAAAAAII/WnVE3FAeZJo/s1600-h/HPIM1426.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93t_N-swKI/AAAAAAAAAII/WnVE3FAeZJo/s320/HPIM1426.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178556816886120610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was the one thing he wished for... (thanks to his nerdy Dad, Night is a huge Star Wars geek)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93t_d-swLI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/iOTefbIru-I/s1600-h/HPIM1429.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93t_d-swLI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/iOTefbIru-I/s320/HPIM1429.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178556821181087922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Keira gets one present (Night got about 5) because presents are fun for everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After opening up presents, it was off to IHOP, where they were celebrating &lt;a href="http://www.hortonmovie.com/site/index.html"&gt;HORTON HEARS A WHO&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93vRN-swMI/AAAAAAAAAIY/AviW1uSuu8Y/s1600-h/HPIM1430.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93vRN-swMI/AAAAAAAAAIY/AviW1uSuu8Y/s320/HPIM1430.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178558225635393730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93vRd-swNI/AAAAAAAAAIg/x3p_b6X1-Yo/s1600-h/HPIM1436.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93vRd-swNI/AAAAAAAAAIg/x3p_b6X1-Yo/s320/HPIM1436.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178558229930361042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beezlenut juice (sprite with jello chunks-surprisingly gross...) and Who cakes with green eggs and ham!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to the park for cake.  Cakes, actually.  You can never have too much sugar on your birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93wH9-swOI/AAAAAAAAAIo/nEUP6c2QGAM/s1600-h/HPIM1438.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93wH9-swOI/AAAAAAAAAIo/nEUP6c2QGAM/s320/HPIM1438.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178559166233231586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93wId-swPI/AAAAAAAAAIw/iqiSWh6JTas/s1600-h/HPIM1442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93wId-swPI/AAAAAAAAAIw/iqiSWh6JTas/s320/HPIM1442.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178559174823166194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great day, it is hard to believe he is five already!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93wsN-swQI/AAAAAAAAAI4/ADFtnisy-kk/s1600-h/HPIM1452.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93wsN-swQI/AAAAAAAAAI4/ADFtnisy-kk/s320/HPIM1452.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178559789003489538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Yes, Night sleeps on the couch.  We only have two bedrooms, and the kids kept waking each other up when they shared a room, so now he has his own room...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-3550548425438691559?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/3550548425438691559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=3550548425438691559' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3550548425438691559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/3550548425438691559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/03/night-turns-five.html' title='Night Turns Five!'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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://bp2.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R93tG9-swII/AAAAAAAAAH4/v0hHRfryRRM/s72-c/HPIM1424.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-434818352846854479</id><published>2008-03-07T05:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T05:46:10.996-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Rain</title><content type='html'>I love the rain.  I am in love with rain.  I am certain that sleeping with the window open while it rains is what heaven would be like.  When I'm awake, I love to read by an open window during the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to move to Seattle-for the rain.  Of course, I would love to move anywhere-for the adventure, so I guess that doesn't have much impact. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have considered buying one of those sound machines that play rain, but then would that ruin my love affair with rain?  If I have rain EVERY night when I go to sleep, I wouldn't get that little excited feeling every time I hear that it is raining.  But maybe it would be worth it because I would get to sleep with the rain ALL of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To compare, I am in love with Josh.  I never get tired of him.  I still get that excited feeling with him.  Maybe I should get the rain machine... But I do love Josh lots more than I love the rain, so maybe I shouldn't compare the two.  I shouldn't get the machine...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-434818352846854479?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/434818352846854479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=434818352846854479' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/434818352846854479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/434818352846854479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/03/rain.html' title='Rain'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-7406601932260060120</id><published>2008-03-05T05:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T06:01:59.985-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><title type='text'>Imagine!</title><content type='html'>This would've been so cool to experience!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I might have been scared, though.  What if it were some kind of prequel to the rapture or something??  Then I'd be scared I had messed up!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jwMj3PJDxuo&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jwMj3PJDxuo&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-7406601932260060120?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/7406601932260060120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=7406601932260060120' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7406601932260060120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7406601932260060120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/03/imagine.html' title='Imagine!'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-1063707529774981099</id><published>2008-02-28T18:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T18:36:27.372-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Good Intentions</title><content type='html'>Why is it that setting my alarm for ten minutes earlier sounds like a good idea when I am getting ready to go to sleep, but in the morning, it seems like the worst idea in the whole entire world?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-1063707529774981099?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/1063707529774981099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=1063707529774981099' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1063707529774981099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1063707529774981099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/good-intentions.html' title='Good Intentions'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-8742212201695394957</id><published>2008-02-24T19:36:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T19:46:35.474-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Alcohol and Video Games</title><content type='html'>Last night, I was playing &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wii_Play"&gt;golf&lt;/a&gt; on the wii with my son Night.  He was talking with me about another video game we own-&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mario_Golf_%28Nintendo_64%29"&gt;Mario Golf on the N64.&lt;/a&gt;  He was asking me if I have ever played Mario Golf.  I told him that I had, but I wasn't very good at it.  He then said that Mario Golf is a lot like golf on the wii, but there is no booze on the wii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT?!"  Surely, I misheard him, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What did you say, honey?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There is no booze in this game of golf."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking that I was going to have to have a serious talk with Josh about how he plays video games with the kids, I asked, "What is booze?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is the character in Mario-the ghost."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh!" Phew.  Boo s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.lemmykoopa.com/lk19/1925.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.lemmykoopa.com/lk19/1925.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.lemmykoopa.com/lk19/1925.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8742212201695394957?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8742212201695394957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8742212201695394957' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8742212201695394957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8742212201695394957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/alcohol-and-video-games.html' title='Alcohol and Video Games'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-6721790912359181151</id><published>2008-02-14T20:32:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T21:03:32.031-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Written in the Tattoo</title><content type='html'>Ever wonder what it would be like to be so passionate about something that it is always on your mind?  I mean always.  This is how my gorgeous &lt;a href="http://spartickes.blogspot.com/"&gt;husband&lt;/a&gt; feels about movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We currently own well over 1,000 dvds.  This is just an estimate.  I could be wrong.  I'm sure he could tell you.  I do know that we have three built in shelving units in our den that are packed with the things.  They are built for books and the shelves run from the floor to the ceiling.  That is a lot of movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past four years, Josh has been working on a movie of his own.  He has written it, tweaked it, erased some of it, re-written and re-written it.  He has been obsessed with it.  He dreams of it--when both awake and asleep.  He has taken hour long baths contemplating it.  He has chosen various actors and shot various scenes.  He has basically lived this movie since the idea came to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh has read tons of director books, watched millions of movies-focusing on the scenes and the way they are laid out and shot--camera angle, lighting, movement.  He has pretty much stalked all of his favorite directors on-line-he knows everything about them and their directing strategies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has put in his time, and now it is finally paying off.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He is making his movie!&lt;/span&gt;  We have always known that the movie would be made-how could it not?  Josh wouldn't shut up about it, but we thought it was going to be a personally financed movie--meaning we would put up the money to make it ourselves.  So, basically the budget for the movie was $500, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, a local producer has signed on to make the movie.  The new budget is $180,000.  The shooting schedule is set for the middle of May.  In a few weeks, Josh will be going to L.A. to meet with some actors...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so proud of him for sticking to it and making it happen.  4 years is a long time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R7UADO2kf2I/AAAAAAAAAHw/J_GF-ZsdUaY/s1600-h/HPIM1403.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R7UADO2kf2I/AAAAAAAAAHw/J_GF-ZsdUaY/s320/HPIM1403.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167036203004100450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh just got a tattoo that sums up his passion.  It is on his right forearm.  I asked him why he decided to put it there.  He said that if he didn't get to do his movies, you might as well cut off his right arm...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6721790912359181151?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6721790912359181151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6721790912359181151' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6721790912359181151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6721790912359181151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/written-in-tattoo.html' title='Written in the Tattoo'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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://bp3.blogger.com/_1UYACpYr8oQ/R7UADO2kf2I/AAAAAAAAAHw/J_GF-ZsdUaY/s72-c/HPIM1403.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-8426562772615289700</id><published>2008-02-12T15:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:22:49.955-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Jericho</title><content type='html'>Originally, I had been super-excited for tonight to come.  Big Brother 9 starts tonight.  I know-I should be embarrassed that I am looking forward to such a trashy show, but I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the less advertised and even more exciting event for the evening comes on after Big Brother!  JERICHO IS BACK!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story behind Jericho's return gives me goosebumps!  After what the producers (or whoever it is that decides these things) were less than impressed by Jericho's first season, they canceled it.  Canceled it after a cliff-hanger.  They were just going to leave us hanging--and let us fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fans of Jericho heard of its demise and brought it back to life!  In order to protest, fans of the show sent almost 10,000 pounds of &lt;a href="http://duckyxdale.com/2007/06/06/jericho-renewed-a-cbs-miracle/"&gt;nuts&lt;/a&gt; to CBS.  It was a reference to one of the lines in the show.  You'll have to catch up in order to understand!  I believe that every episode from season 1 is available to watch at &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/jericho/"&gt;CBS.COM&lt;/a&gt;, and I highly recommend it.  I just finished watching the season finale in order to get pumped for tonight, and it worked!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VjCrE5wjxsw&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VjCrE5wjxsw&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8426562772615289700?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8426562772615289700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8426562772615289700' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8426562772615289700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8426562772615289700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/jericho.html' title='Jericho'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-5656365831136745720</id><published>2008-02-11T14:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T15:23:10.005-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>In Honor of Valentines Day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt; &lt;a href="http://martieshouse.blogspot.com/2008/02/couples-meme.html"&gt;couples meme&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h3&gt;   Couples&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long have you been together? We met 8 years ago, almost to the day (&lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2007/02/superbowl-sunday.html"&gt;Super Bowl Sunday&lt;/a&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long did you date? I feel like we've been married since we met... We dated about 4 months?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How old is he? 1 1/2 years younger than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who eats more? Probably me.  I have a really big sweet tooth.  and savory tooth too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who said "I love you" first? He did!  I told him "thank you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is taller? He is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is smarter? He is.  Well, I'm not stupid or anything.  He is just really, really, really smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who does the laundry? Mostly me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who does the dishes? Mostly him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? me.  Which is the right side?  when you are looking at it or when you are in it?  I'm on the left when we are in it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who pays the bills? Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who mows the lawn? Jason-our lawn boy... (actually, I think he is older than we are, but lawn man sounds funny)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who cooks dinner? um. Nobody really cooks dinner.  Mostly, he makes snacks for the kids ALL DAY LONG.  So, I guess he does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is more stubborn? He is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who kissed who first? He kissed me.  :)  We were both asleep on the couch and he woke me up by kissing me.  We had fallen asleep while watching GREASE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who asked who out?  Neither, really.  I did ask him over to my house to watch Grease, which is the &lt;s&gt;night&lt;/s&gt; morning we kissed, so me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who proposed? Neither.  One night when we were at my school, one of the janitors saw Josh and asked me if he was my fiance; I told her no and then told Josh what she said.  He asked me if I told her yes?    That was my proposal I guess...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is more sensitive? &lt;s&gt;Him.&lt;/s&gt; Me.  I don't want ya'll thinking I married a pansy boy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who has more friends? me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who has more siblings? me.  He is an only child, and I'm the youngest of 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tagging &lt;a href="http://daddyforever.com/"&gt;Daddy Forever&lt;/a&gt; because I think he will write something interesting and &lt;a href="http://news-from-london.blogspot.com/"&gt;Anna&lt;/a&gt; because she hasn't written on her blog for awhile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5656365831136745720?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5656365831136745720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5656365831136745720' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5656365831136745720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5656365831136745720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/in-honor-of-valentines-day.html' title='In Honor of Valentines Day...'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-983014944168620232</id><published>2008-02-09T21:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T21:11:24.784-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>On Having a Two Year Old in the House</title><content type='html'>Here are some sure signs that Keira has learned how to open the refrigerator door on her own:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the door-one princess weeble.&lt;br /&gt;On the bottom shelf- 2 cans of tuna, a huge bucket of Nestle chocolate powder, 2 juice cups, and a heart sticker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What more could you need in there?  Oh wait.  I forgot one very important thing-- the one and only pink pacifier...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-983014944168620232?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/983014944168620232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=983014944168620232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/983014944168620232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/983014944168620232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/on-having-two-year-old-in-house.html' title='On Having a Two Year Old in the House'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-7043212509360310231</id><published>2008-02-07T21:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T21:08:46.336-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Lost?</title><content type='html'>Yes.  Yes, I am.  Excellent title for the show, by the way.  I thought the survivors were the lost ones, but it turns out it is the viewers, at least this one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-7043212509360310231?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/7043212509360310231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=7043212509360310231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7043212509360310231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7043212509360310231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/lost_07.html' title='Lost?'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-6169877771220017654</id><published>2008-02-05T08:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T18:11:45.483-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>I'm Watching Sex and the City</title><content type='html'>Josh got me the whole series DVD set about a year ago because it was on sale and I had mentioned that it would be nice to have.  And he is just a really nice boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I had mentioned this to him or not, but I had never actually seen an episode of the show.  Now, I've started watching the series a few times, and I'm trying so hard to get into it more.  Here is what I see wrong with the DVD-each episode is a chapter, meaning I can't fast forward any of it with the remote-it just goes to the end of the episode.  I don't like that because I have kids and get distracted, or since I'm usually watching it in bed, I fall asleep.  Also, the opening credits play for EVERY FREAKIN EPISODE, meaning I have to hear that song every 22.2 minutes, seeing Carrie get splashed by the bus every time.  I can't fast forward it with one click, of course, because that would take me to the END of the episode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of falling asleep (my final rant), I hate that the menu scene has Carrie talking about the episode...over and over and over again.  It becomes really annoying when I'm trying to sleep to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am determined to enjoy the show, though, because so many of my friends love it.  It has to get better, right?  I'm part way through season 2 and I am already enjoying it more.  I guess I just needed to give Carrie a chance to find her groove.  I have a feeling after a few more episodes, I'm finally going to be hooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6169877771220017654?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6169877771220017654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6169877771220017654' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6169877771220017654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6169877771220017654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/im-watching-sex-in-city.html' title='I&apos;m Watching Sex and the City'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-8538766257871340952</id><published>2008-02-02T19:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T19:45:12.905-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>My Kids</title><content type='html'>I got some &lt;a href="http://www.lomography.com/"&gt;lomography&lt;/a&gt; cameras for my birthday, and I finally got a scanner that works so I could import some of my holga pictures.  They are both double exposed.  Look closely!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/?action=view&amp;amp;current=lomoholga.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/lomoholga.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/?action=view&amp;amp;current=1-31-200843550PM.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/1-31-200843550PM.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keira&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8538766257871340952?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8538766257871340952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8538766257871340952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8538766257871340952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8538766257871340952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-kids.html' title='My Kids'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-6342008502105660010</id><published>2008-02-02T17:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T17:19:41.242-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Any Suggestions?</title><content type='html'>What do I do if my two year old will never let me change her diaper?!  She can have pee dripping down her leg, and she will &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;adamantly&lt;/span&gt; deny that she needs her diaper changed.  How uncomfortable!  We eventually get it changed, and once we get her to lie down, she is fine, but it can take forever to convince her--or 3 minutes of hell trying to change through the screams and kicks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any ideas?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6342008502105660010?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6342008502105660010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6342008502105660010' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6342008502105660010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6342008502105660010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/any-suggestions.html' title='Any Suggestions?'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-1779061769166968585</id><published>2008-02-01T05:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T05:42:46.310-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>LOST</title><content type='html'>No spoilers or theories here.  I just want to say that Charlie looked good, damn good for...  oh wait no spoilers.  He looked good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-1779061769166968585?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/1779061769166968585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=1779061769166968585' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1779061769166968585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1779061769166968585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/02/lost.html' title='LOST'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-6704932865145735081</id><published>2008-01-28T19:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T19:58:50.705-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Popcorn?</title><content type='html'>Keira ran up to me after Josh said, "Go tell your Mom what you want!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want some popcorn!" (k)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want some popcorn?" (me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um...No..." (k)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks very confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't want popcorn?" (me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um...No...Cereal." (k)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want cereal or popcorn?" (me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from across the room, "Didn't you want corn pops?" (josh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh! Corn Pops!  I want Corn Pops!!" (k)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we are recapping:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 15px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-05405829004528719 visible ontop" href="http://i62.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/HPIM1388.flv"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i62.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/HPIM1388.flv" height="361" width="448"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the hat? She got it for Christmas.  She wears it more often &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;inside&lt;/span&gt; the house than outside...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6704932865145735081?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6704932865145735081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6704932865145735081' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6704932865145735081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6704932865145735081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/01/popcorn.html' title='Popcorn?'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-7545172367734079069</id><published>2008-01-28T19:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T19:30:10.775-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Conversations from the Couch</title><content type='html'>Josh-"So, what are we going to do tonight?"&lt;br /&gt;Mari-"Well, I was thinking about attacking that pile of laundry (the one that has been growing for about 2 weeks now)."&lt;br /&gt;Josh-"You really should because I'm not very good at it."&lt;br /&gt;Mari-"Oh.  I am.  I rock at putting away clothes.  In fact, I'm thinking of writing a book."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marislomographs/2227546608/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2072/2227546608_af570fe004_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marislomographs/2227546608/"&gt;dryer pile&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/marislomographs/"&gt;mari_ickes&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marislomographs/2226751751/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2341/2226751751_ba498c9326_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marislomographs/2226751751/"&gt;folded pile&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/marislomographs/"&gt;mari_ickes&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is another pile in the bedroom, but I couldn't bear to take the photo.  A girl has to have standards, you know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-7545172367734079069?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/7545172367734079069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=7545172367734079069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7545172367734079069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7545172367734079069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/01/conversations-from-couch.html' title='Conversations from the Couch'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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://farm3.static.flickr.com/2072/2227546608_af570fe004_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-5640696416313557256</id><published>2008-01-23T19:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T20:04:50.156-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>I Killed the Crab</title><content type='html'>I bought the kids one of those toys that grow bigger in water-a crab for Night and a cat for Keira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were cheap, and they'd be fun bath toys, right?  Wrong.  I didn't read the directions, of course, until after I had them home and had told the kids that they could play with them that night while they took a bath.  As the kids are jumping around in the tub, I find out that they aren't like the little pellet like things &lt;s&gt;I&lt;/s&gt; Santa bought at Christmas time that grow within minutes of hitting the water.  They take UP TO 24 HOURS to grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops.  24 hours is a long time for a 4 year old, and an eternity for a 2 year old, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No problem!  I'll just let them take a bath, and then leave the cat and crab in the tub with a little bit of water so that they can grow.  Then the next day, the kids will be able to see how big their toys grew, and we'll just keep the "pets" in the tub. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great idea until Mom decides to take a HOT bubble bath.  I'm not sure which did it--the extreme temperature (I like me a nice steam bath with my wine) or the aromatic bubbles, but the crab &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;disintegrated&lt;/span&gt;!  Gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the upside, I found a cure for crabs...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5640696416313557256?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5640696416313557256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5640696416313557256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5640696416313557256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5640696416313557256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-killed-crab.html' title='I Killed the Crab'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-2886067116514977996</id><published>2008-01-21T23:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T23:43:48.041-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Coffee</title><content type='html'>I absolutely love my &lt;a href="http://spartickes.blogspot.com/"&gt;husband&lt;/a&gt; more than words can express.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I walked in the door after work, and he was cleaning out the coffee filter to make coffee.  I sat down to check e-mail, and before I knew it, he was placing a nice, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BIG&lt;/span&gt;, hot mug of coffee in my hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't ask for it; he didn't offer it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's the best for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-2886067116514977996?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/2886067116514977996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=2886067116514977996' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2886067116514977996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2886067116514977996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/01/coffee.html' title='Coffee'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-7453392963731630899</id><published>2008-01-19T16:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T17:24:29.968-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Discount City</title><content type='html'>All of Nashville is on Clearance Sale this week, ya'll!!  &lt;s&gt;Listen to&lt;/s&gt; Read the deals that I have found this week!  You can say it-I'm an amazing shopper...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, we went to &lt;a href="http://www.oldnavy.com/"&gt;Old Navy&lt;/a&gt; in Cool Springs.   I found a beautiful sweater, a fabulous scarf, some slippers (2) and socks (a quarter each!!) for the kids.  I paid with a $20 bill AND GOT BACK SOME CHANGE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was the day I hit the big jackpot, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.target.com/"&gt;Target&lt;/a&gt; in Brentwood had a million women's clothes on clearance- 75% off.  I found an ADORABLE hoodie for $4.98.  I also got Josh a &lt;a href="http://www.b2stuf.com/main/product_detail_minis.htm"&gt;mini guitar thingy&lt;/a&gt; for his ipod.  How cute is that?!  Three bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodysonline.com/"&gt;Goody's&lt;/a&gt; here in Franklin was amazing.  The whole freakin' store was on clearance!!  I think the sales there are still going until Monday.  I might go back-it was that good.  I bought a very COMFORTABLE velour sweatsuit for 8 dollars.  (I had to get something to wear for my &lt;a href="http://livelaughlove95.wordpress.com/2008/01/19/awww-shucks/"&gt;spa treatment&lt;/a&gt;.  The invite said something comfortable.  I couldn't let Malia down!)  I also got a cute pink sweater with a scarf attached.  My &lt;a href="http://spartickes.blogspot.com/"&gt;husband&lt;/a&gt; will kill me when I tell you this: He said that the sweater was neat and wondered why guys didn't have cool clothes like that.  I offered to let him borrow it, but apparently pink isn't his color.  Maybe when I go back tomorrow, I can find a more boyly blue or green for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have any of ya'll noticed that K-mart leaves their stuff on clearance FOREVER?  They still have some Christmas stuff on 75% off clearance.  I got some Martha Stewart Christmas ornaments that I had my eye on back when they were $9.99.  Fabulous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love getting stuff for cheap.  I feel so self-righteous-like I screwed over &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_Brother_%281984%29"&gt;BIG BROTHER&lt;/a&gt; or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;I am also chomping at the bit to let you know that today I found lemon juice at Kroger, normally $1.85, on sale for $0.50. FIFTY CENTS!&lt;/s&gt;  But to blog about that would be absurd.  Nobody cares about lemon-juice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-7453392963731630899?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/7453392963731630899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=7453392963731630899' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7453392963731630899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/7453392963731630899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/01/discount-city.html' title='Discount City'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-65301283812054935</id><published>2008-01-17T12:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T12:29:57.917-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Hypothetically Speaking</title><content type='html'>Let's say you went to the gym in the morning before work, and as you are getting dressed, you realize you left your clean panties at home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do?  You don't have time to go home before work, so that is out.  You can either put on your nasty, sweaty panties that you have been wearing since the day before (through the 45 minutes of cardio sweat as well), or you can go without.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both choices have their &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dis&lt;/span&gt;advantages, but neither is a great alternative to those nice clean panties sitting at home in your panty drawer; yet, you have no access to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;those&lt;/span&gt; beauties.  Dirty panties are gross and stinky, but they'd dry...eventually.  Panty-less isn't too comfortable or hygienic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what do you do??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://myfavoritesitcom.unblog.fr/files/2007/09/joey.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://myfavoritesitcom.unblog.fr/files/2007/09/joey.bmp" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chose commando, hypothetically speaking...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-65301283812054935?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/65301283812054935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=65301283812054935' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/65301283812054935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/65301283812054935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/01/hypothetically-speaking.html' title='Hypothetically Speaking'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-8177849422954207621</id><published>2008-01-10T08:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T08:31:20.578-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Speaking of Found...</title><content type='html'>This morning, around 2, Keira yells from her crib:&lt;br /&gt;                                 "I NEED MY PACIFIER!!"&lt;br /&gt;Only it sounds like:&lt;br /&gt;                                 "BLAH BLAH BLAH!!!"&lt;br /&gt;It was two o'clock in the morning, and she is only two...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, only partly awaken from slumber, I stumble into her room, and say, "What do you need, honey?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It fell down there!" she said, pointing behind her crib by the back wall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay.  I'll get it."  I still didn't know what I was looking for-Her "pink" was lying on the bed beside her (Hello Kitty wearing pink dress); her "purple" was beside that (Hello Kitty wearing...); her pacifier was in her hand; her blanket was on top of her.  Those are the sleeping essentials.  I couldn't figure out what she wanted, but I knew it was under the bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I started to pull out the buckets of toys that are stored under her bed, saying soothing things like, "I'm almost there,"  or "I'll get it for you in just a second, Sweetie." while silently mumbling swear words completely not appropriate to say aloud...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Keira starts laughing.  "You can't found it, Mom."   "Ha ha ha ha ha!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What, honey? I'm getting it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can't found it, Mom!  Ha ha!  It was down there but I found it; I found it, Mom!  You can't found it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It WAS her pacifier she was looking for.  She had found it, and thought it was a funny joke that I was still looking for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real funny.  Real funny at two o'clock in the morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8177849422954207621?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8177849422954207621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8177849422954207621' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8177849422954207621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8177849422954207621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/01/speaking-of-found.html' title='Speaking of Found...'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-6602122559446909740</id><published>2008-01-09T15:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T17:14:04.890-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>I Found It!</title><content type='html'>Have you ever lost something that was super-important to you?  It drives you crazy that you can't find it?  You even resort to pleading to the gods that you would do anything just to have it back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost my ipod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hated everything.  I hated that we had no money; our rent was due; our gas bill was due; we needed to buy gas for the car; we needed to buy a tire for the car; work was slow (hey, people-go out to eat--I need some money); I didn't want to work-out; I was tired; I was just plain sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I found my ipod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was I thinking?  Suddenly life is wonderful.  All of my previous problems seemed to melt away.  I can now see that my problems were temporary, (assuming some of ya'll will come in and eat sometime soon!!) and as long as I have &lt;a href="http://www.jackjohnsonmusic.com/"&gt;Jack&lt;/a&gt; back in my life; nothing can go wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch him here.  He will make you happy too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L_BoZ_Qdyl0&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/L_BoZ_Qdyl0&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-6602122559446909740?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/6602122559446909740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=6602122559446909740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6602122559446909740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/6602122559446909740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-found-it.html' title='I Found It!'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-1405513631163113372</id><published>2008-01-06T17:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T17:30:46.954-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Cat Saga Continues...</title><content type='html'>As previously &lt;a href="http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2007/12/kitty-cat-problems.html"&gt;mentioned&lt;/a&gt;, we have two beautiful cats that we can no longer have in our house.  About 2 weeks ago, after trying (unsuccessfully) to give them away, we decided that they could be outside cats.  They are spayed/neutered and still have their claws.  We have a nice garage set up for them, and a wonderful yard in which to play.  Our neighbor Mary has cats too-what fun for them!  They are young and healthy-they'd love being outside, getting to play and whatnot, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few nights ago, Nashville had an unusual cold spell and got down to--I don't know--really cold.  Wanda and Orson sat outside our door and cried, so we let the inside for the evening, 2 nights in a row.  They had to go out during the day, but they were with us at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanda was SOOOOOOOOO cuddly when she was inside.  Before, she would only cuddle a little bit, but as if trying to win us over, she bombarded us with lovin' during her brief stay in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it has been two nights, and the weather has warmed quite a bit (it is supposed to be in the 70's tomorrow).  We are no longer worried about our little babies being too cold, but our little babies want to come in the house anyway.  So much in fact, that Wanda has become a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;stalker&lt;/span&gt;.  She climbs up the screened door, just to where we can see her, and she cries!  If we leave the room, she finds another window that is near us, and she climbs into it and cries.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Loudly&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, Wanda sat outside my bedroom window.  When I left the room to get some water, she followed me to the nearest window.  Then back into the bedroom.  Around 3:00 this morning, I had had enough of the meow-ing.  I got a water bottle and squirted water at her through the window, thinking it would teach her not to sit in the window, or at the very least get her to shut the hell up.  She didn't move.  She just looked at me with those sad eyes as if asking me why I was being so cruel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm either going to have to let the cats in and deal with their hair (and Josh's allergy, which is getting worse), or give up sleep.  Good-bye sleep.  I already gave most of it up for the kids; I might as well quit cold turkey!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-1405513631163113372?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/1405513631163113372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=1405513631163113372' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1405513631163113372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/1405513631163113372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/01/cat-saga-continues.html' title='The Cat Saga Continues...'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-155283531425790618</id><published>2008-01-01T21:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T21:32:19.202-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Juno</title><content type='html'>I love love LOVE &lt;a href="http://www.foxsearchlight.com/juno/"&gt;Juno&lt;/a&gt;.  I cannot remember the last time I left a movie feeling so... fulfilled.  It is humorous and witty, sad, cute, heartfelt, and whatever fun adjectives you can think of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously am in love with the characters and actors in this film.  I usually leave movies "liking" them, but I would have paid for another ticket and turned right around and watched this movie again.  That is a compliment.  I usually wait for DVD release--on clearance at Blockbuster before I watch a movie; or at the very least-I go to a matinee; but I came right home and purchased the FABULOUS soundtrack on itunes (paying full price is practically unheard of in my house), and would definitely go to see the movie again at the theater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go see it.  It is wonderful.  (think Gilmore Girls)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-155283531425790618?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/155283531425790618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=155283531425790618' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/155283531425790618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/155283531425790618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2008/01/juno.html' title='Juno'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7783704.post-5123104027747001594</id><published>2007-12-16T05:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T05:55:25.401-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>I have not been getting much rest lately.  I've been getting plenty of sleep (well, you know, plenty is relative), but I haven't been able to rest because of my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two nights ago, I kept dreaming about work.  I would dream that I was at work...working, and something bad would happen (too many tables, bad food, mean customer, run out of WATER--see how stressful being a server can be!).  I would wake up from my dream, feeling a bit worn out from working so much, only to fall back asleep and have it happen again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, Josh went out with one of his friends, so when I went to sleep, I was alone in the house with the kids-who were also sleeping. (Well, Night wasn't asleep, but he was in his bed being a good kid).  I kept dreaming that I WASN'T sleeping!  How bizarre!  I would dream that Josh came home, but then I would wake up and he wouldn't be here.  I would dream that the dog started barking, but I would wake up with her still under my feet, same spot.  I even dreamt that I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep, writing.  Then, of course, I would wake up with no paper around me.  I never write in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even spent one dream writing a text message to Josh to stop and buy me an Oreo McFlurry.  I woke up in a bit of a panic after this one.  I was tired-I didn't want to get out of bed to eat ice cream, but then again, I would NEVER want ice cream to go to waste...  Some people drunk-text.  Could I have sleep-texted??  Don't worry.  I didn't.  No ice cream for me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I'm still tired.  Tired from sleeping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-5123104027747001594?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/5123104027747001594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=5123104027747001594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5123104027747001594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/5123104027747001594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2007/12/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-8229348093349333816</id><published>2007-12-14T20:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T21:11:07.846-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All About Me'/><title type='text'>Secret Santa</title><content type='html'>I think that playing Secret Santa is so much fun!  I haven't worked at a place where we have played for years (I guess it would have been a dead give-away if I played Secret Santa when I worked at the doctor's office-there were only two of us in the office-me and the doctor!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been playing Secret Santa at work for almost two weeks now, with the big reveal coming up on Sunday night.  I love it!  My Santa didn't give me anything the first week at all, so I was a bit bumbed since I really get in to it.  I not only wanted presents (because who doesn't want presents?!!) but I also wanted hints as to who was playing my Santa.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was super-excited on Monday when I got some BEAUTIFUL earrings on an earring tree.  I really love me some cute earrings.  The earrings that my Santa got for me were perfect.  I would have picked them out myself.  At this point, I had no idea who was playing my Santa.  Pretty much everyone at work knows that I like earrings because I try to wear different ones all of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then on Wednesday, I received some yummy smelling O.P.I. lotions.  I love love love them, especially the coconut and the almond ones (I think I have an eating problem--I'm in love with food-flavored lotions--especially the ones at Victoria's Secret!!).  There is a girl at work who went to school to be a &lt;s&gt;beautistetian&lt;/s&gt; girl who puts on make-up.  A few weeks ago, she was talking about O.P.I. brand stuff, so my first thought was, "OH!! I know my secret Santa!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I got another present today (two actually), and the lady in question wasn't working, so now I think it is another girl.  Her sister works with us, and her sister seems to know a lot about my presents, so I have a feeling...  But then there is a guy who was near my presents when I first saw them--maybe he put them there...  Hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The suspense is killing me, YET, I love it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I'm a really good Santa.  The person that I've been getting stuff for sometimes reads my blog, so I'd better be careful!!  I doubt if she'll check it before Sunday.  I'm going to take my chances-I won't see her before then anyway!  I gave her a much-appreciated STARBUCKS gift card, followed by a yummy flavored-creamer.  You see, she is a single mom and can use all the coffee she can get her hands on!!  I have also gotten her earrings, diaper coupons, and some candy.  I had the PERFECT gift for her, but my husband RUINED it.  I won't mention it because he is a bit sore about the subject, but I have spoiled her none-the-less (who wouldn't love a bottle of wine?!).  I can't wait to give her the big present on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you know if my guess is correct.  The person I've been giving my presents to has asked a couple times if I'm her Santa, but I think she's asked a couple of people, so I think I've been incognito...  (I might as well be a ninja!)  I'll let you know that after Sunday too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you been having fun for the holidays as well?!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-8229348093349333816?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/8229348093349333816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=8229348093349333816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8229348093349333816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/8229348093349333816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2007/12/secret-santa.html' title='Secret Santa'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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-7783704.post-2473943892985818622</id><published>2007-12-12T17:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T18:06:02.438-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pictures'/><title type='text'>My New Old Camera</title><content type='html'>Since my original &lt;a href="http://www.bhphotovideo.com/c/product/293289-REG/Lomographic_410_Colorsplash_Camera.html"&gt;colorsplash&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.lomography.com/"&gt;lomography&lt;/a&gt; camera broke, Josh decided to replace it (along with &lt;a href="http://shop.lomography.com/shop/"&gt;FIVE other cameras&lt;/a&gt; (Plastic Fantastic Package Supreme)!!) for my birthday!  Here are some shots of the Christmas lights around the house.  I have some other cool photos, but I don't have any way to put them on-line yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width: 400px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a style="left: 144px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-006548642985464559 visible ontop" href="http://w62.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/67d966a9.pbw"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w62.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w62.photobucket.com/albums/h85/mari_ickes/67d966a9.pbw" height="400" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/album/slideshow/wrapper_logo.gif" style="border-width: 0pt; float: left;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/redirect/album?action=slideshow" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/album/slideshow/wrapper_getyourown.gif" style="border-width: 0pt; float: right;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7783704-2473943892985818622?l=marigayle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/feeds/2473943892985818622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7783704&amp;postID=2473943892985818622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2473943892985818622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7783704/posts/default/2473943892985818622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marigayle.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-new-old-camera.html' title='My New Old Camera'/><author><name>MariGayle</name><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>
