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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CUAMRn0yfSp7ImA9WhRVEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810</id><updated>2012-01-09T16:03:07.395-08:00</updated><title>A Fair Maiden</title><subtitle type="html">My daily ramblings about the goings-on around me</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/AFairMaiden" /><feedburner:info uri="afairmaiden" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIDSH84eCp7ImA9WhRVEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-4047779106172445990</id><published>2012-01-09T15:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T15:59:39.130-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T15:59:39.130-08:00</app:edited><title>Das Boot and the House Mother</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;
&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;I think the time has come to change my direction. Not in life but with this blog.&amp;nbsp; Lately it's more of a blo, it blos.&amp;nbsp; It's boring.&amp;nbsp; I've become bored.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;I tell my best girlfriend about my life experiences and she is constantly telling me I need to write&amp;nbsp;a book about them.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps this is the place to start.&amp;nbsp; Maybe if I start now and write about this past weekend I can slowly work my way back to, I dunno, somewhere in the 80's when my adventure called life really took off!&amp;nbsp; Maybe by then I'll have enough material for&amp;nbsp;an entire chapter. Time will tell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;So onto this weekend.&amp;nbsp; I should point out that I am a 40-something woman.&amp;nbsp; I have children, a second husband, pets, a sensible car (shudder), a home, a cottage, a niece, a nephew, a god son&amp;nbsp;and a fairly decent job.&amp;nbsp; I spent Saturday night partying with university students.&amp;nbsp; Swear to god.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VeouzEIxn7A/Twt9_JofCtI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/8p7ZQHPBCOA/s1600/i-told-him-not-to-leave-the-house.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; height: 323px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; width: 321px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="307" rea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VeouzEIxn7A/Twt9_JofCtI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/8p7ZQHPBCOA/s320/i-told-him-not-to-leave-the-house.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;Now I'm not sure how much you remember about your university&amp;nbsp;or college days but, surprisingly, &amp;nbsp;they actually haven't changed much.&amp;nbsp; I just forget how we all lived back then.&amp;nbsp; I went to the apartment of a wonderful co-worker.&amp;nbsp; Her and her boyfriend invited me there for a winter BBQ.&amp;nbsp; Sounded so quaint and a lovely way to spend a Saturday evening.&amp;nbsp; I hesitated at first, thinking I would spend a quiet&amp;nbsp;night to myself, watching television, reading, and hanging out with my dogs.&amp;nbsp; Then the devil in me took over and I said "f*** it, let's go!"&amp;nbsp; So I did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;I arrived around 8pm.&amp;nbsp; The lovely Miss Jennifer (names have been changed to protect the guilty) met me at the front of the house.&amp;nbsp; We truged up the old wooden stairs to the second floor.&amp;nbsp; I should have known I was in for a treat when she said "no one else has arrived yet, just the boys are here."&amp;nbsp; Yup, the boys.&amp;nbsp; Not men, BOYS.&amp;nbsp; Some close to my own sons age!&amp;nbsp; Actually, some looked younger. They were in the living room playing electric guitars and drums.&amp;nbsp; No, not Rock Band, ACTUAL INSTRUMENTS with amplfiers and a light show!&amp;nbsp; IN THE LIVING ROOM.&amp;nbsp; I literally said "holy shit, there's a band in your living room."&amp;nbsp; Okay. Wonder how the tenants below enjoy that?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;We went off to her bedroom to mix ourselves a drink and to chat , where there were no boys.&amp;nbsp; Nope, no boys.&amp;nbsp; But there was an Australian Bearded Dragon named Allan (yup, from The Hangover).&amp;nbsp; Seriously, would I lie to you? Apparently he is grumpy but likes to sleep in Jennifers hair.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;There's a fucking lizard in your bedroom.&amp;nbsp; OMG.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--2qyzVkjhJs/Twt7vjxGOGI/AAAAAAAAAFA/CaCmPhxpMuk/s1600/Allan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" rea="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--2qyzVkjhJs/Twt7vjxGOGI/AAAAAAAAAFA/CaCmPhxpMuk/s320/Allan.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;﻿&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;Have I mentioned that I'm 40-something?&amp;nbsp; Yes, I was the house mother.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;So the evening progressed, more boys showed up and even a couple of girls (all at least half my age).&amp;nbsp; I got over my uncomfortableness and got to enjoy the crowd and even some of the music.&amp;nbsp; No, I didn't know any of it at all.&amp;nbsp; It's that screamy stuff, I'm not even sure what genre it is.&amp;nbsp; Oh well, they sure can play.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;We just laughed and talked and partied and got to know one another.&amp;nbsp; That guy with the mohawk that I see everyday even showed up.&amp;nbsp; I was like "Jennifer, there's the mohawk guy from that store".&amp;nbsp; I was dying.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;For our entertainment there was even a German exchange student present, he was chugging beer from a glass boot.&amp;nbsp; Hence,&amp;nbsp;Das Boot!&amp;nbsp; Hilarious.&amp;nbsp; I sent my husband an email at one point and simply said "I wouldn't even be able to make this stuff up."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aESjDLhbHsU/Twt9kmn1eAI/AAAAAAAAAFI/fWa6TcseFro/s1600/item-boot-blank-big.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aESjDLhbHsU/Twt9kmn1eAI/AAAAAAAAAFI/fWa6TcseFro/s320/item-boot-blank-big.jpg" width="194" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;﻿&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;I almost forgot about Brett. He was a sweet girl, I mean boy of about 4'8" tall.&amp;nbsp; Teeny tiny little thing with a massive head of dreads.&amp;nbsp; However, he was pretty enough to be a girl.&amp;nbsp; We just chatted about life and his shitty job.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;At about 3am the place was winding down.&amp;nbsp; I went off in search for a place to lay my head for a couple of hours before driving home.&amp;nbsp; I stumbled into the living room in the dark and was just about to place my assets onto a nearby couch when my eyes finally focused ON THE NAKED BOY WITH TOOTPICK LEGS cowering in the corner of the couch.&amp;nbsp; "Oh my god, why are you naked on the couch" I said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;"I dunno" says he.&amp;nbsp; Jennifer rescued me, she had made me up a bed in her bedroom from a little foutony thing.&amp;nbsp; When I left at 8am naked boy was still sitting on the couch with his knees to his chest, no blanket, nothing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;I'm off to the chiropractor in the morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-4047779106172445990?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/afZmwKSRM033Co5v5y3r7uBEb9M/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/afZmwKSRM033Co5v5y3r7uBEb9M/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/afZmwKSRM033Co5v5y3r7uBEb9M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/afZmwKSRM033Co5v5y3r7uBEb9M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/szCeY7VDC2E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4047779106172445990/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2012/01/das-boot-and-house-mother.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/4047779106172445990?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/4047779106172445990?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/szCeY7VDC2E/das-boot-and-house-mother.html" title="Das Boot and the House Mother" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VeouzEIxn7A/Twt9_JofCtI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/8p7ZQHPBCOA/s72-c/i-told-him-not-to-leave-the-house.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2012/01/das-boot-and-house-mother.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4FQ3s-eip7ImA9WhRQEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-1858945687433355210</id><published>2011-12-04T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T18:08:32.552-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-04T18:08:32.552-08:00</app:edited><title>Sunday night in December</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's been so long, six months long.&amp;nbsp; I mean well, I really do - but then it's six months later and I'm amazed that it's 6 months later!&amp;nbsp; What happens?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It's been a very long 5-6 months.&amp;nbsp; Job has changed, living arrangements have changed, body has changed, back yard has changed, number of animals living here has changed!&amp;nbsp; New puppy!!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Where to start?&amp;nbsp; What's going on?&amp;nbsp; I'm sitting here watching my 17 year old son sweep the floor - yes - lots has changed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;But enough of that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It's December, it's close to Christmas again.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Okay, the television is on and there's a show on about 30 year old virgins!&amp;nbsp; Seriously...oh my.&amp;nbsp; A 35 year old man has just confessed TO HIS MOTHER that he is a virgin.&amp;nbsp; Holy moly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It's a slow night.&amp;nbsp; I'm not even sure what to write so I'll not bore you any longer with nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-1858945687433355210?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HgMsr5snMlKdgfKaVlBk8CectR0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HgMsr5snMlKdgfKaVlBk8CectR0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HgMsr5snMlKdgfKaVlBk8CectR0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HgMsr5snMlKdgfKaVlBk8CectR0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/0SGUxNOTzEE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1858945687433355210/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2011/12/sunday-night-in-december.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/1858945687433355210?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/1858945687433355210?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/0SGUxNOTzEE/sunday-night-in-december.html" title="Sunday night in December" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2011/12/sunday-night-in-december.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQAQn08fyp7ImA9WhZbFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-1016542366143150477</id><published>2011-06-18T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T12:45:43.377-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-18T12:45:43.377-07:00</app:edited><title>Saturday in the Park</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;I think it was the 4th of July.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;I did it - I have made a MAJOR change in my life. &amp;nbsp;I quit my job and secured a new one doing something I love. &amp;nbsp;OMG, finally. &amp;nbsp;I'm 44 years old and I'm going to look forward to getting up in the morning and heading to work! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;What's so significant about the 4th of July? &amp;nbsp;Well, that's when I will have completed my 6 weeks of training and I will be managing a salon (of 23 stylists). &amp;nbsp;I'm so excited I can hardly contain myself. &amp;nbsp;No more hard hats and steel-toe boots for this girly girl. &amp;nbsp;From now on it's manis, pedis, Redken hair care and all things beautiful! &amp;nbsp;Bring it on I say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ICbO5tcQ3S0/Tfz_y0RBAMI/AAAAAAAAAE4/dAYDRL6MQHw/s1600/file_52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="122" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ICbO5tcQ3S0/Tfz_y0RBAMI/AAAAAAAAAE4/dAYDRL6MQHw/s320/file_52.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;This past winter and spring has seen so many changes in our lives. &amp;nbsp;Not all good ones either. &amp;nbsp;My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer in February. &amp;nbsp;Luckily it was early and quite small. &amp;nbsp;She underwent a mastectomy in late February and has been doing marvelously ever since. No chemo, just an anti-cancer drug for a year. &amp;nbsp;Phew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;My husband has been transferred away for work. &amp;nbsp;He leaves our home on the 18th of July for another province, not within driving distance. &amp;nbsp;Yes, it's going to be a trying summer, fall, winter, spring, summer, fall, winter, spring, summer. &amp;nbsp;Two years. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;My parents have made the decision to sell their summer home. &amp;nbsp;My happy place, my place of pure contentment. &amp;nbsp;It's hard, but I know it's for the best. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully it is staying in the family and is being taken over by a cousin. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #d5a6bd; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;You see, a year of many, many changes. &amp;nbsp;But we will persevere and get through it all. &amp;nbsp;And luckily, we will have fabulous hair and nails while doing so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i6pB1ILMQ58/Tfz__9Z2e5I/AAAAAAAAAE8/zgU2xjxbNmU/s1600/persevere.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="270" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i6pB1ILMQ58/Tfz__9Z2e5I/AAAAAAAAAE8/zgU2xjxbNmU/s320/persevere.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-1016542366143150477?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yFBiUj-8koDAV4wOxxdIIC2kMzs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yFBiUj-8koDAV4wOxxdIIC2kMzs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/qKwepNXp1ng" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1016542366143150477/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2011/06/saturday-in-park.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/1016542366143150477?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/1016542366143150477?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/qKwepNXp1ng/saturday-in-park.html" title="Saturday in the Park" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ICbO5tcQ3S0/Tfz_y0RBAMI/AAAAAAAAAE4/dAYDRL6MQHw/s72-c/file_52.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2011/06/saturday-in-park.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YASXc4eyp7ImA9Wx9VEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-8311381304422432435</id><published>2011-01-27T06:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T06:39:08.933-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-27T06:39:08.933-08:00</app:edited><title>Quiz Night in Bedford</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We tried something different last night. &amp;nbsp;Myself, hubby and two of our neighbours went to a local pub for their Quiz Night. &amp;nbsp;Actually, it's the first quiz night of 2011. &amp;nbsp;The quiz master was set to start at 7:30pm. &amp;nbsp;We were informed we should arrive at least half an hour early to grab a table. &amp;nbsp;We arrived an hour early and had to wait half an hour for a table! WOW. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ffd966;"&gt;The pub is Finbar's at Sunnyside Mall in Bedford &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.finbars.ca/index.php?page=103&amp;amp;sub=110"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;http://www.finbars.ca/index.php?page=103&amp;amp;sub=110&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ffd966;"&gt;. &amp;nbsp;They have been undergoing kitchen renovations for the past 10 days or so and their propane still isn't in place. &amp;nbsp;Needless to say, they have a limited menu but it was standing room only last evening and everyone there seemed to be eating! &amp;nbsp;That's how popular this place has become. &amp;nbsp;It's a Wednesday night, it's January and this place is packed. &amp;nbsp;Kudos to the owners.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We had stumbled into Finbar's in early December while there was a quiz night going on and vowed to return for one. &amp;nbsp;So here we are. &amp;nbsp;The waitress who met us at the door was great, she said we'd have to wait about half an hour for a table, and she was right. &amp;nbsp;We hung out at the bar while we waited and even managed to snag 4 stools. &amp;nbsp;We were led to our table after about 1/2 a brew. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So, onto Quiz Night. &amp;nbsp;It works like this. &amp;nbsp;They give each team a sheet to put your team name on and whether you will be playing for the season (of 6 weeks). &amp;nbsp;The rules are simple, no electronic devices, 6 members (or less) to a team (to be eligible for prizes) and to have fun! &amp;nbsp;The sheet is made up of two columns of 20 blank spaces each for a total of 40 answers. &amp;nbsp;There are two rounds. &amp;nbsp;The quiz master starts his questions with the aid of a microphone. &amp;nbsp;He was a great speaker and we never had a problem hearing what he was asking. &amp;nbsp;The questions ranged from science, history, geography, sports and entertainment. &amp;nbsp;Everyone was given ample time to write their answers down. &amp;nbsp;Half way through each round there was a speed round - whoever got the answer right first (by putting up their hand) got to pick a silly prize. &amp;nbsp;After each round your sheets are collected, your answers checked and scored and then returned to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Quiz night started at 7:30pm and it was done by 9:30pm. &amp;nbsp;I believe the winner of the evening gets a $25 Finbars gift certificate (with a total of 21/40 we didn't stick around...) and the overall winner of the league (after 6 weeks) gets a $100 gc. &amp;nbsp;Not too shabby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TUGDK2ONYtI/AAAAAAAAAEs/A53XxDqOuBA/s1600/finbars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TUGDK2ONYtI/AAAAAAAAAEs/A53XxDqOuBA/s1600/finbars.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It was a great evening out, hubby and I had one draft, a club soda and a ginger ale. &amp;nbsp;With a tip it cost us $10! Where else can you socialize, learn something, possibly win something and hang with friends for $10?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It was a great evening and we cannot wait to return next week. &amp;nbsp;Must brush up on my European capitals before then though. &amp;nbsp;Who know the capital of Bulgaria was Sofia? &amp;nbsp;Not this chicky. &amp;nbsp;But I should.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-8311381304422432435?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZDVaILuPLyj7klElbdE3Jj1KwwM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZDVaILuPLyj7klElbdE3Jj1KwwM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/aAXKyT72nVU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8311381304422432435/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/quiz-night-in-bedford.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/8311381304422432435?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/8311381304422432435?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/aAXKyT72nVU/quiz-night-in-bedford.html" title="Quiz Night in Bedford" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TUGDK2ONYtI/AAAAAAAAAEs/A53XxDqOuBA/s72-c/finbars.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/quiz-night-in-bedford.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYMRnY-cSp7ImA9Wx9WEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-5883953404845113717</id><published>2011-01-17T07:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T07:29:47.859-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-17T07:29:47.859-08:00</app:edited><title>What I think</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Someone made a suggestion to me last week. &amp;nbsp;They commented on my Facebook page that I should be doing something like Annie's Recommendations or something. &amp;nbsp;You know, like Oprah's Favorites...'cept not quite as popular obviously. &amp;nbsp;Apparently some people have done some of the things I have recommended so it seems I have an opinion that is valued! &amp;nbsp;Who knew?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So, after giving it some thought, here I am. &amp;nbsp;I'll set the A Fair Maiden, or Affair Maiden blog on a different course. &amp;nbsp;Not just about me but about what I like to do, where I do it a and whether or not I think you would enjoy it too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TTRbMaqV8TI/AAAAAAAAAEk/w-8svEoD9y8/s1600/ALFP+Favorite+Things.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: black;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TTRbMaqV8TI/AAAAAAAAAEk/w-8svEoD9y8/s320/ALFP+Favorite+Things.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This all started with attending Grafton Street Dinner Theatre in Halifax last week for their presentation of Does Your Mother Know. &amp;nbsp;It is a story about a Cape Breton family reunion with its typical interesting characters, family secrets and greedy relatives - all set to the music of Abba! &amp;nbsp;Yes, girls, Abba. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I have to admit, I was skeptical as I had the pleasure of seeing Mama Mia on Broadway only two months before (which I also highly recommend) but as soon as they picked up their instruments and started to play and sing the lyrics we all know so well, I was instantly transported back to my bedroom with my record player and my Abba albums, signing to my hearts content. &amp;nbsp;I was a Dancing Queen in Waterloo, feeling like a Super Trooper. &amp;nbsp;I do love Abba, I do I do I do I do I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This crew were outstanding! &amp;nbsp;They can really sing, really well. &amp;nbsp;And play? &amp;nbsp;I am still amazed at how much the music sounded like Abba. &amp;nbsp;The piano/keyboard player was second to none. &amp;nbsp;Admittedly, myself and my gf made him laugh a few times and he seemed to lose his place but regained quickly and on with the show! &amp;nbsp;That's the beauty of dinner theatre, it's casual, no rules and a great night out for all! &amp;nbsp;The price of the ticket is worth hearing the old guy sing Honey Honey. &amp;nbsp;I have seriously never laughed so hard in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So give it a go. &amp;nbsp;For less than $50 a person you get a couple of hours of great local entertainment, some decent fare to keep your belly happy (2 appetizers, 6 entrees and 2 desserts to choose from, including vegetarian options) and you are supporting the local economy. &amp;nbsp;Obviously if you choose to consume oh wee bit of the spirits, that will cost you extra but it's hardly going to break the bank. &amp;nbsp;I think we paid $15.50 for two beer and a glass of ginger ale.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.graftonstdinnertheatre.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;http://www.graftonstdinnertheatre.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Does Your Mother Know has been held over until the 30th of January, I recommend it for anyone. &amp;nbsp;A couple who would like an evening out, some girl friends, a work party, birthday party...anyone.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Their next production begins on the 4th of February, "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road", featuring the music of Sir Elton and Billy Joel. &amp;nbsp;I suspect we'll be taking this one in as well. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black;"&gt;So there you have it, the first of many entries about my life, out and about in HRM and places beyond!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-5883953404845113717?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_eSjVMvdCi6NtBe8UDmHAncxXK8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_eSjVMvdCi6NtBe8UDmHAncxXK8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/kIhTmFYHxbI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/5883953404845113717/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-i-think.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/5883953404845113717?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/5883953404845113717?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/kIhTmFYHxbI/what-i-think.html" title="What I think" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TTRbMaqV8TI/AAAAAAAAAEk/w-8svEoD9y8/s72-c/ALFP+Favorite+Things.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-i-think.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04BQns9cSp7ImA9Wx9XFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-6079761777749709326</id><published>2011-01-07T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-07T09:39:13.569-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-07T09:39:13.569-08:00</app:edited><title>Wasting Time</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It seems that's all I do lately. &amp;nbsp;I'm supposed to be working, I'm Twittering, I'm blogging, I'm surfing, I'm daydreaming. &amp;nbsp;What's with me? &amp;nbsp;I make my living in sales, I'm supposed to be selling! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Do you suppose we sit around and wait for someone to yell at us to get off our keister and make a living, stop wasting company time and money. &amp;nbsp;I dunno. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Lately I have been terrible for wasting time. &amp;nbsp;It seems I'm waiting for something but I'm just not sure what it is exactly. &amp;nbsp;Is it the time of the year? &amp;nbsp;No, I've been feeling this way forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TSdONUX6ZII/AAAAAAAAAEc/AXgrzvNGbJk/s1600/l048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TSdONUX6ZII/AAAAAAAAAEc/AXgrzvNGbJk/s320/l048.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Is anyone else out there completely bored with what they do? &amp;nbsp;How do we make a change without disrupting the balance of all things financial? &amp;nbsp;There's a lot more to think about here than just being bored with my job. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Do I really want to start over again with a new career, a new company, new co-workers? &amp;nbsp;No. &amp;nbsp;But change is good. &amp;nbsp;Is it perhaps our generation? &amp;nbsp;What ever happened to working at the same job for 35 years. &amp;nbsp;Oh my god, I'm pretty sure I would not be able to keep my sanity if I had to do the same thing forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Seems all I ever think about lately is a new job. &amp;nbsp;I tell myself every evening that tomorrow will be different. &amp;nbsp;It isn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;How do we find our passion when we have to keep paying the mortgage, the car payment, the power bill, the cell bill, the list goes on and on. &amp;nbsp;What am I missing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TSdPMGd5zzI/AAAAAAAAAEg/v1KZnqF8904/s1600/tumblr_lctwfeTlU41qbo3bfo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="215" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TSdPMGd5zzI/AAAAAAAAAEg/v1KZnqF8904/s320/tumblr_lctwfeTlU41qbo3bfo1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hJRJmjYlPE57fc8Q_HPDo0vMvZM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hJRJmjYlPE57fc8Q_HPDo0vMvZM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/v0iw5_Zt7Vs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6079761777749709326/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/wasting-time.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/6079761777749709326?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/6079761777749709326?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/v0iw5_Zt7Vs/wasting-time.html" title="Wasting Time" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TSdONUX6ZII/AAAAAAAAAEc/AXgrzvNGbJk/s72-c/l048.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/wasting-time.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4ASX4-fyp7ImA9Wx5UFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-4405322790289509384</id><published>2010-10-21T05:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T05:09:08.057-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-21T05:09:08.057-07:00</app:edited><title>Changes</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;No, not like David Bowie Chhhhhanges.&amp;nbsp; Changes in plans.&amp;nbsp; Life getting in the way of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Hubby&amp;nbsp;and I left the house around 5:30pm last evening to take the pup, and ourselves, for a walk.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We had a wonderful little jaunt, until I got freaked out because of some tracks we saw which&amp;nbsp;hubby said he thought belonged to a bear!&amp;nbsp; A bear!?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;For gods sake, it's dusk, we're 2kms from the car and you tell me those are bear tracks!&amp;nbsp; Then the dog starts barking like a maniac at nothing (that we could see) in the woods ahead of us.&amp;nbsp;I'm getting more scared by the second, I swear my heart rate increased ten-fold and I'm wearing my Alegraia open-backed clogs, so running is out of the question.&amp;nbsp; I walk, really fast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TMAsaNVu8aI/AAAAAAAAAEU/fPF6fuCvodA/s1600/lost-ken-barbie-polar-bear2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" nx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TMAsaNVu8aI/AAAAAAAAAEU/fPF6fuCvodA/s320/lost-ken-barbie-polar-bear2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Phew, made it back to the get-away Honda in the nick of time!&amp;nbsp; Not really, but exaggeration is good isn't it?&amp;nbsp; I'm not entirely convinced we saw bear tracks but there was definitly something about and I was not going to stick around to find out what it was.&amp;nbsp; Jane of the Jungle I am not, and really, what is a 15lb Mini Daushund and an ex body builder in flip flops going to do to save me from said bear?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;So, changes.&amp;nbsp; Changes in evening plans, changes in weekly plans.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;When we finally arrived home (stopping on the way to pick up something for dinner, no not fast food) we opened the door to the phone ringing.&amp;nbsp; I ran (sure I can run for that) and grabbed it and saw it was a co-worker of mine.&amp;nbsp; He was calling to ask if I had read the email that had come in from our boss around 6pm.&amp;nbsp; Nope, computer and blackberry are both shut down for the evening.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;"Oh" he says.&amp;nbsp; "When are you in NY?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I respond, "From the 1st to the 7th.&amp;nbsp; Why?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;"We have to be in Montreal for the morning of the 8th" he announces.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;"WHAT?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;We end our conversation, I boot up my computer and low and behold, there is the email.&amp;nbsp; Seems the entire sales team for eastern Canada are meeting in Montreal on the 8th for at least three days!&amp;nbsp; My heart drops to my feet.&amp;nbsp; Seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Not only is it 12 hours after my return from a week away - it's 3 days away from my parents whom I see literally once a year.&amp;nbsp; Twice if I'm lucky, like this year.&amp;nbsp; They are staying with us until the 11th.&amp;nbsp; Add insult to injury, my children are turning 16 that same week, on the 10th (hence the reason for my mom and dad extending their time away).&amp;nbsp; With any luck, I'll be back on the 10th in time to celebrate with them and get to spend the 11th at home with my entire family, before mom and dad fly out at 11pm (on the 11th day of the 11th month...weird).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Ho hum.&amp;nbsp; I shouldn't complain about having a job that takes me places and what-not.&amp;nbsp; But of all the weeks in the calendar - why this one, why now?&amp;nbsp; My mom is going to be really dissapointed.&amp;nbsp; I'm not even going to tell her, it'll ruin her trip.&amp;nbsp; I'll wait until we are enroute back home before I announce "oh yeah, I have to leave at 4:30am tomorrow to catch a flight to Montreal, you don't mind spending 3 days alone do you?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;"Oh, and kids, I&amp;nbsp;may not&amp;nbsp;be here for your 16th birthday."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I am a true beliver in "family first", I'll put my family before anyone and anything.&amp;nbsp; But how do&amp;nbsp;I manage this one?&amp;nbsp; I'm told we &lt;strong&gt;have&lt;/strong&gt; to be in Montreal for this sales meeting, there are people coming from the US for it (big freakin deal).&amp;nbsp; Kinda difficult when most of these people work 23 hours a day, take their spouses on one vacation a year and can't understand why we don't answer emails after 5pm.&amp;nbsp; As it turns out, my co-worker's baby daugter (she isn 't one yet) is starting her first week at day care the same week!&amp;nbsp; Now that is heart-breaking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Changes.&amp;nbsp; It's what life is all about isn't it?&amp;nbsp; Too bad so many of them suck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;“Change is inevitable - except from a vending machine.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Robert C. Gallagher &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="color: yellow; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-4405322790289509384?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y0qjNTPcJzMG2QTysixk7o1z9aQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y0qjNTPcJzMG2QTysixk7o1z9aQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/JFE7VdC-xiE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4405322790289509384/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2010/10/changes.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/4405322790289509384?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/4405322790289509384?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/JFE7VdC-xiE/changes.html" title="Changes" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TMAsaNVu8aI/AAAAAAAAAEU/fPF6fuCvodA/s72-c/lost-ken-barbie-polar-bear2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2010/10/changes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08NRn06eSp7ImA9Wx5UFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-3087546018524598479</id><published>2010-10-18T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T11:18:17.311-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-18T11:18:17.311-07:00</app:edited><title>Barley Asparagus Risotto</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Recipe, you think&lt;/span&gt;﻿&lt;/span&gt;?&amp;nbsp; &lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;No, it's what I'm planning on preparing for dinner this evening and I simply couldn't come up with a catchy title today.&amp;nbsp; Kind of like the "Tandoori Chicken" last year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;It's Monday.&amp;nbsp; I vowed today would be different.&amp;nbsp; It isn't.&amp;nbsp; I'm on the fence about my job.&amp;nbsp; I'm no longer exicted about it at all.&amp;nbsp; Does anyone else get completely bored with their employment choice?&amp;nbsp; It's been just over five years and I am totally and utterly bored.&amp;nbsp; Luckily, I have the option and the luxury of doing what I do from home, so that makes it just a tad bit easier.&amp;nbsp; Still want something new though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I'm wondering does this happen to you?&amp;nbsp; Is it our generation?&amp;nbsp; What happened to taking a job and staying in that job until you retired?&amp;nbsp; Does anyone even do that any more?&amp;nbsp; I guess some do, but I don't think I have it in me.&amp;nbsp; I'm so ready for a change it's almost impossible to describe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;I guess I really should wait until the new year so I'll at least have three weeks vacation built up again.&amp;nbsp; At this point I've got two days and three sick days - and I'm using those to travel to New York with my husband and parents in two weeks time.&amp;nbsp; Ah, a week away without distractions.&amp;nbsp; Perfect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;Back to this whole career, employment, job thing.&amp;nbsp; Is anyone else out there completely bored and completely out of steam?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TLyO48DVj2I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/6-TIZpVRI74/s1600/bored.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TLyO48DVj2I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/6-TIZpVRI74/s1600/bored.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-3087546018524598479?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dvhH2iEKP6C2vN-1z5ydVmiaY5I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dvhH2iEKP6C2vN-1z5ydVmiaY5I/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dvhH2iEKP6C2vN-1z5ydVmiaY5I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dvhH2iEKP6C2vN-1z5ydVmiaY5I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/1aSwim0Whmo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3087546018524598479/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2010/10/barley-asparagus-risotto.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/3087546018524598479?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/3087546018524598479?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/1aSwim0Whmo/barley-asparagus-risotto.html" title="Barley Asparagus Risotto" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TLyO48DVj2I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/6-TIZpVRI74/s72-c/bored.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2010/10/barley-asparagus-risotto.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYMRno-cCp7ImA9Wx5UFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-3162775989719831127</id><published>2010-10-14T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T07:49:47.458-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-20T07:49:47.458-07:00</app:edited><title>On The Weight-Loss Wagon (again)</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Yup, another fall, another vow to take better care, eat right and exercise.&amp;nbsp; Doing it this time baby.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TLeIkUEpC2I/AAAAAAAAAEM/XQ47RYyg_t8/s1600/219003-Royalty-Free-RF-Clipart-Illustration-Of-A-Chubby-Woman-Trying-To-Squeeze-Into-A-Small-Top.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TLeIkUEpC2I/AAAAAAAAAEM/XQ47RYyg_t8/s1600/219003-Royalty-Free-RF-Clipart-Illustration-Of-A-Chubby-Woman-Trying-To-Squeeze-Into-A-Small-Top.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Not sure what did it this time.&amp;nbsp; Probably the fact that every jacket I tried on in Winners was too tight in the arms, not to mention the waist.&amp;nbsp; Problem is, I'm actually supposed to be pretty small.&amp;nbsp; I'm only 5'3", size 5-6 shoe, hands smaller than anyone else's I know.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Nine years ago I left my husband.&amp;nbsp; I was in the best shape of my life.&amp;nbsp; I was swimming and running (to get out of the house), then I moved out, bought my own house, discovered new single friends and started to party.&amp;nbsp; Soon I stopped running every morning at 6am and I found myself crawling home at 6am from parties.&amp;nbsp; Don't get me wrong, I loved my new life, very much, but it&amp;nbsp;sure&amp;nbsp;took a toll on my body.&amp;nbsp; Chicken wings and beer every Thursday adds up pretty darn quick in the grand scheme of things.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I now truly cannot remember the last time I did that and I don't miss it one little bit.&amp;nbsp; Seriously.&amp;nbsp; I'm not lying to you, would I do that?&amp;nbsp; But as much as I have changed my lifestyle - the weight stays.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;For those who read, thanks a bunch.&amp;nbsp; I really appreciate and I hope you enjoy it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It's Thursday night, almost Friday, almost another weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-3162775989719831127?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j-dmI1a3TMGKGRuYLfE4hPmU0Zc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j-dmI1a3TMGKGRuYLfE4hPmU0Zc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j-dmI1a3TMGKGRuYLfE4hPmU0Zc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j-dmI1a3TMGKGRuYLfE4hPmU0Zc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/Ujy5xrnKGpw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3162775989719831127/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2010/10/on-weight-loss-wagon-again.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/3162775989719831127?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/3162775989719831127?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/Ujy5xrnKGpw/on-weight-loss-wagon-again.html" title="On The Weight-Loss Wagon (again)" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TLeIkUEpC2I/AAAAAAAAAEM/XQ47RYyg_t8/s72-c/219003-Royalty-Free-RF-Clipart-Illustration-Of-A-Chubby-Woman-Trying-To-Squeeze-Into-A-Small-Top.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2010/10/on-weight-loss-wagon-again.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04GQXg6fip7ImA9Wx5VE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-8245144932179585575</id><published>2010-10-06T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T07:38:40.616-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-06T07:38:40.616-07:00</app:edited><title>Almost a year!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TKyJssPqhWI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YqbpEF6Bd_s/s1600/quote_192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="225" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TKyJssPqhWI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YqbpEF6Bd_s/s320/quote_192.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;I cannot believe almost a year has flown by since I have written here.&amp;nbsp; I had all good intentions, I even logged in&amp;nbsp; a few times.&amp;nbsp; But that's as far as it went. Sad really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Let's see, so much has happened in a year.&amp;nbsp; Well, life has happened.&amp;nbsp; Really nothing earth shattering.&amp;nbsp; Job is the same, house is the same, animals are wonderful.&amp;nbsp; Children are in high school, hubby is handsome as ever, we have a new fish!&amp;nbsp; There, see, I knew something exciting had happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Who can believe it,&amp;nbsp;a year.&amp;nbsp; Ok, 11 months but who's counting?&amp;nbsp; Do you ever stop and shake your head and ask "what am I doing, what's my purpose, am I really making a difference, do i even need to make a difference?"&amp;nbsp; God I wish I was doing something else...work-wise I mean.&amp;nbsp; I'm bored, I'm no longer challenged by what I do.&amp;nbsp; Is it time to move on to something bigger and better?&amp;nbsp; No, but I think it's time to do more for me, my mental self.&amp;nbsp; But where does one start and can I really give up the perks that come with what I am currently doing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"&gt;I am completely and totally addicted to cooking shows.&amp;nbsp; Anything to do with food.&amp;nbsp; And it's not that I am in love with food, I just love the whole process, pouring over recipes, buying the ingredients, planning the menus, cooking for others.&amp;nbsp; But we all know cooking is a very hard way to make a comfortable living, it's just so much fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Stay tuned...there's more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-8245144932179585575?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NbsZlY3tyB1aS-h3Vf1ZEs46W3E/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NbsZlY3tyB1aS-h3Vf1ZEs46W3E/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NbsZlY3tyB1aS-h3Vf1ZEs46W3E/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NbsZlY3tyB1aS-h3Vf1ZEs46W3E/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/Gb0QESNhA2A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8245144932179585575/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2010/10/almost-year.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/8245144932179585575?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/8245144932179585575?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/Gb0QESNhA2A/almost-year.html" title="Almost a year!" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/TKyJssPqhWI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YqbpEF6Bd_s/s72-c/quote_192.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2010/10/almost-year.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcEQ3g4fCp7ImA9WxNbEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-1449697122758579140</id><published>2009-11-13T10:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T10:46:42.634-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-13T10:46:42.634-08:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I was a teenager last night. No, I was twenty-something last night. I took in a Collective Soul concert with one of my oldest friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;We were bad asses. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/Sv2pAuVWX7I/AAAAAAAAADU/_pZZV3PKxgQ/s1600-h/badass8zz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/Sv2pAuVWX7I/AAAAAAAAADU/_pZZV3PKxgQ/s320/badass8zz.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Is that picture wrong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Not only did we not sit in our $65 seats, we stood at the back of the venue by the sound guys for the entire time, whooping it up and acting like groupies. I loved it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I drank whiskey and beer and sang out loud to all the songs (that I could remember the words). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;My girlfriend couldn’t understand why they played at such a small venue, I reminded her that most of Collective Souls fans are now 30+, with a lot of us pushing our mid-40’s and older. We enjoy soft seats, carpet, washrooms nearby and a bar! It was perfect. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;After the one encore, everyone left and went home to watch The National. Except for us. Of course. What ever happened to Nolton Nash?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/Sv2pUhRG22I/AAAAAAAAADc/R2HB9t1X3Qc/s1600-h/nash-knowlton-file1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/Sv2pUhRG22I/AAAAAAAAADc/R2HB9t1X3Qc/s320/nash-knowlton-file1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;A co-worker of mine was there with his brother, the four of us decided to have a drink at the casino bar and from there we decided to go to a local pub. My co-worker dropped us (and his brother) off. He was responsible and went home to his wife and young daughter. We proceeded to drink some more (even run and coke, disgusting), sing out loud to the music, talk to the patrons (all men, we were the only women there) and proceeded to close the place down. Holy shit, I have not been in bar when the lights have come on in years. What was I thinking? I know, groupies party all night long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;My love showed up to drag our sorry assets home, of course we made him stay and then we made him drive us to my co-workers brothers place! Once there we drank some more (straight bourbon and “dirty” cosmopolitans – yummy). I’ve no idea what time we left. But I do know we ate Mcdonalds at 2:30 or 3:00am. It was the best gourmet meal I think I have ever eaten! Why does that stuff taste so good when you have very little sense of anything?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I think I made to bed around 4:00am. Yes, on a school night too. Bad ass that I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;This morning was difficult. This afternoon is still difficult. Was it worth it? You bet your bad hard partying whooping ass it was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-1449697122758579140?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-fqznBjW-Ot0cR3xGqIwumRi5YI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-fqznBjW-Ot0cR3xGqIwumRi5YI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/aEXEyRF5BmU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1449697122758579140/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-was-teenager-last-night.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/1449697122758579140?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/1449697122758579140?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/aEXEyRF5BmU/i-was-teenager-last-night.html" title="" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/Sv2pAuVWX7I/AAAAAAAAADU/_pZZV3PKxgQ/s72-c/badass8zz.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-was-teenager-last-night.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UHQ3w_fSp7ImA9WxNUE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-3040217618955832091</id><published>2009-11-04T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T09:20:32.245-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-04T09:20:32.245-08:00</app:edited><title>No more Poop</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Poop. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;No, not what my children used to finger-paint with when they were 2. Poop, the most loveable little pusser you'd ever want to know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;He was my first cat I got after I left my husband. Actually he was the second, but the first cat was a bastard and I’d rather not talk about him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Perdue et Trouve, also known as Poopie Doo, or Poop, got sick. He hasn’t been real well for a while now, but today there was blood where there shouldn’t be blood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;We said good bye this morning. He was as lovable as he has always been, rubbing against my arm with his back arched and his beautiful white paws looking all chunky and fat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;He wasn’t well and I know we made the best decision for him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;He was the sweetest cat anyone has ever known. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Always happy, always content. I wish more people could be like he was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Daisy (the bitch Manx) will miss him, as will Casey, (the mini-doxie), but no one shall miss him the way Emily will miss him. She is home mourning him now.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SvG3pKORD-I/AAAAAAAAADM/L_1ORCaviIA/s1600-h/perdue_em.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SvG3pKORD-I/AAAAAAAAADM/L_1ORCaviIA/s320/perdue_em.JPG" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Don't get me wrong, I too will miss him, we used to share a bed! He loved potato chips and French fries, just last week we caught him with his head in a bag of potato chips. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Having a pet is difficult, having to say goodbye is even more difficult. Luckily, Emily insisted on having him cremated so everyone will be able to visit his ashes, whenever you wish!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Goodbye my Poopie Doo, I loved you very much and you’ll be missed forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-3040217618955832091?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6PU-5uPdjk57klRqH1xUjA9Uxss/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6PU-5uPdjk57klRqH1xUjA9Uxss/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/_Tq7dyuS-io" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3040217618955832091/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-more-poop.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/3040217618955832091?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/3040217618955832091?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/_Tq7dyuS-io/no-more-poop.html" title="No more Poop" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SvG3pKORD-I/AAAAAAAAADM/L_1ORCaviIA/s72-c/perdue_em.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-more-poop.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4BQ3g4cCp7ImA9WxNUE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-3006952255569208327</id><published>2009-11-04T09:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T09:15:52.638-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-04T09:15:52.638-08:00</app:edited><title>Tandoori Chicken</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: inherit;"&gt;What do you think of when you hear or read Tandoori Chicken?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I think about a dog walking up a ladder.&amp;nbsp; No shit.&amp;nbsp; I know you can bridge the correlation.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;It's amazing to me how certain things bring up the oddest memories or thoughts.&amp;nbsp; Like whenever I hear someone mention Mr. Dress Up, it&amp;nbsp;happens so often,&amp;nbsp;I automatically go back to my parents living room, where I would sit on the carpet watching my "boyfriend" on the black and white television saying things like "Oh garu."&amp;nbsp; What does Mr. Dress Up conjure up for you?&amp;nbsp; Do you even know who he is?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;So why, you ask, does Tandoori Chicken remind me of a dog walking up (and down!) a ladder?&amp;nbsp; Well, many, many years ago - I was probably 22 or 23 - my then boyfriend (who went on to become my ex husband) and I were living in Toronto.&amp;nbsp; We were invited to have dinner at the home of one of his co-workers and his wife.&amp;nbsp; All I remember from&amp;nbsp;the evening was their dog&amp;nbsp;would walk up and down a 7' step ladder in the back yard and his wife (the co-worker, not the dog) made Tandoori Chicken for dinner.&amp;nbsp; I recall thinking "Ok, I know mom makes chicken for Sunday dinner and I know Mary Brown makes it and puts in a bucket, what the hell is Tandoori Chicken?"&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I'm bringing this up now because I realized yesterday, when I was making my Tandoori marinade, how much I have learned throughout the years.&amp;nbsp; Between reading, television, the internet, people I have met and places I have gone, I've accumulated so much knowledge it's amazing to me.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes I have to stop and realize that not everyone is as "spong-like" as I consider myself to be.&amp;nbsp; There have been, on numerous occasions, when I have mentioned something to whomever I was with and they&amp;nbsp;didn't know what I was talking about.&amp;nbsp; Is it just me, do I absorb more or is everyone like this - just absorbing information about different things than I?&amp;nbsp; For example, the love of my life (you know who you are) asked me a question the other day about the Royal Family (Queen Elizabeth and the bunch), I looked at him and said "I cannot believe you don't know that."&amp;nbsp; But the more I thought about it the more I realized, perhaps he just doesn't care so he wouldn't have absorbed anything about the Royal Family.&amp;nbsp; Ask him (my love) about muscles and exercise and supplements - he's more knowledgable than anyone I have ever met.&amp;nbsp; It's becuase that's what he's passionate about isn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;I'm just getting it.&amp;nbsp; It's all making sense to me now.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-3006952255569208327?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4bCxVUtTVjgHLDOZFxf1m0Yxwe8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4bCxVUtTVjgHLDOZFxf1m0Yxwe8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/CDXEVKA1Bd8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3006952255569208327/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/tandoori-chicken.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/3006952255569208327?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/3006952255569208327?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/CDXEVKA1Bd8/tandoori-chicken.html" title="Tandoori Chicken" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/tandoori-chicken.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4ESHYyfip7ImA9WxNVFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-6670474969155742110</id><published>2009-10-26T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T07:38:29.896-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-26T07:38:29.896-07:00</app:edited><title>Been Far Too Long</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;How long has it been?&amp;nbsp; I forgot to check - I'm thinking Thanksgiving!&amp;nbsp; Ridiculous.&amp;nbsp; So what's been going on that has kept me from writing?&amp;nbsp; Not too sure, not much of anything really.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Took a week off from the gym.&amp;nbsp; Why do I do that?&amp;nbsp; What's the point?&amp;nbsp; Take a week off so you are just back where you started two weeks before when you actaully return.&amp;nbsp; Hmm.&amp;nbsp; Such a procrastinator.&amp;nbsp; Returned yesterday.&amp;nbsp; Today I can feel the places where my abs should be!&amp;nbsp; Must have done something right!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SuW0LWH68BI/AAAAAAAAADE/4j8kt5JECsc/s1600-h/Abs%2520-%2520Female.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SuW0LWH68BI/AAAAAAAAADE/4j8kt5JECsc/s320/Abs%2520-%2520Female.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Attended a fantastic Redneck Halloween party on Saturday. Hosted by some people we had never met before - but wonderful!&amp;nbsp; We had a very good time.&amp;nbsp; I love meeting new people.&amp;nbsp; I think it's what makes me tick.&amp;nbsp; Well, that, along with a bunch more stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;This weekend is the big scary night.&amp;nbsp; We don't have too many plans, perhaps will go to a friends house dressed in costume.&amp;nbsp; It's odd not having plans, we've had a party the last few years - but I'm getting tired of always hosting and having to deal with the mess.&amp;nbsp; Time for a break, time to plan parties for people and get paid to do it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5ecJstY4YGW8eam02RosvxfAMY0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5ecJstY4YGW8eam02RosvxfAMY0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/j2Y50_z-IKM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6670474969155742110/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/10/been-far-too-long.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/6670474969155742110?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/6670474969155742110?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/j2Y50_z-IKM/been-far-too-long.html" title="Been Far Too Long" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SuW0LWH68BI/AAAAAAAAADE/4j8kt5JECsc/s72-c/Abs%2520-%2520Female.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/10/been-far-too-long.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8FQns7eSp7ImA9WxNWE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-2312290696315061399</id><published>2009-10-12T05:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T05:33:33.501-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-12T05:33:33.501-07:00</app:edited><title>Being Thankful</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/StMgqRXhqFI/AAAAAAAAACs/ykMB8jz4-rU/s1600-h/thanksgiving_turkey_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/StMgqRXhqFI/AAAAAAAAACs/ykMB8jz4-rU/s320/thanksgiving_turkey_2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;Good morning, it's Monday.&amp;nbsp; Thanksgiving where I live.&amp;nbsp; I spent some time this weekend thinking about "thanksgiving", what does it all mean anyway?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;Thanksgiving                   is a holiday celebrated in much of North America, generally                   observed as an expression of gratitude, usually to God. The                   most common view of its origin is that it was to give thanks                   to God for the bounty of the autumn harvest. &lt;/span&gt;                 &lt;div class="textesmall"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;In the United States,                   the holiday is celebrated on the fourth Thursday in November.                   In Canada, where the harvest generally ends earlier in the                   year, the holiday is celebrated on the second Monday in October,                   which is observed as Columbus Day or protested as Indigenous                   Peoples Day in the United States .&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;Wikipedia states, &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Thanksgiving&lt;/b&gt;, or &lt;b&gt;Thanksgiving Day&lt;/b&gt; (&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canadian_French" title="Canadian French"&gt;Canadian French&lt;/a&gt;: &lt;i&gt;Jour de l'Action de grâce&lt;/i&gt;), occurring on the second Monday in October, is an annual Canadian &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holiday" title="Holiday"&gt;holiday&lt;/a&gt; to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gratitude" title="Gratitude"&gt;give thanks&lt;/a&gt; at the close of the harvest season. Although some people thank &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/God" title="God"&gt;God&lt;/a&gt; for this bounty, the holiday is mainly considered &lt;a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Secularity" title="Secularity"&gt;secular&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;On January 31, 1957, the Canadian Parliament proclaimed:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;table class="cquote" style="background-color: transparent; border-collapse: collapse; border-style: none; color: orange; margin: auto 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 35px; font-weight: bold; padding: 10px; text-align: left;" valign="top" width="20"&gt;“&lt;/td&gt; &lt;td style="padding: 4px 10px;" valign="top"&gt;A Day of General Thanksgiving to Almighty God for the bountiful harvest with which Canada has been blessed … to be observed on the 2nd Monday in October.&lt;/td&gt; &lt;td style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 36px; font-weight: bold; padding: 10px; text-align: right;" valign="bottom" width="20"&gt;”&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;So there you have it.&amp;nbsp; Not quite.&amp;nbsp; I'm thankful for my family, my freinds (some are one and the same), my co-workers and my great job, being successful and being happy and healthy.&amp;nbsp; It's a personal thing isn't it?&amp;nbsp; I'm thankful each and everyday and really, Thanksgiving, isn't it just an excuse to gather, cook and overeat isn't it?&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/StMhvcd6-iI/AAAAAAAAAC8/09Wz64regCg/s1600-h/dbrn451l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/StMhvcd6-iI/AAAAAAAAAC8/09Wz64regCg/s320/dbrn451l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;Nicholas bought an apple pie yesterday (shudder, no, I didn't make one) ~ he ate almost the entire thing himself.&amp;nbsp; Do you suppose he was thankful?&amp;nbsp; I'm thankful that I have a healthy growing son who has an appetite I can afford to feed!&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;No baking for us for quite a while.&amp;nbsp; Seeing the Mr. Olympia competition (yes, thankful we can do that sort of thing) lit something within Chad and I.&amp;nbsp; We are being very strict with our diet and are at the gym everyday.&amp;nbsp; Thankgiving dinner this year (we celebrated yesterday) consisted of white turkey meat (no skin of course), LOTS of veggies, no dressing (you may know it as stuffing), no pease pudding, no cranberry sauce and a gravey thay was made of vegetable stock (home made) with no pan drippings!&amp;nbsp; It was extremely tasty.&amp;nbsp; I cannot believe how my tastes have evolved and changed in the past few weeks.&amp;nbsp; A potato is now the most bland, plain vegetable on my plate (it isn't even a vegatable is it, but a starch), and the other veggies, without butter or salt were so tasty!&amp;nbsp; Sweet potato is the best, so is cauliflower!&amp;nbsp; Yes, I'm thankful for my new found healtier ways and the possiblilty of actually taking weight off this long weekend (there's a switch!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/StMhL2iBuYI/AAAAAAAAAC0/DTEO7Y5XWkQ/s1600-h/20+-+Losing+weight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/StMhL2iBuYI/AAAAAAAAAC0/DTEO7Y5XWkQ/s320/20+-+Losing+weight.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;So here it is, Monday morning.&amp;nbsp; Thanksgiving.&amp;nbsp; I'm thankful for all five of you who I have shared this blog with.&amp;nbsp; You mean the world to me in so many different ways.&amp;nbsp; You also know who you are.&amp;nbsp; I love you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="color: orange; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="textesmall" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange;"&gt;Wishing everyone a wonderful Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday - wishing you happiness and greatness every single day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-2312290696315061399?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Z-mD206A-pz9-KBRSEjlN9LBBoA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Z-mD206A-pz9-KBRSEjlN9LBBoA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/Mrwlz7ISkPU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2312290696315061399/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/10/being-thankful.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/2312290696315061399?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/2312290696315061399?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/Mrwlz7ISkPU/being-thankful.html" title="Being Thankful" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/StMgqRXhqFI/AAAAAAAAACs/ykMB8jz4-rU/s72-c/thanksgiving_turkey_2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/10/being-thankful.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEECR3c_cSp7ImA9WxNWEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-3818307864954827546</id><published>2009-10-09T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T08:37:46.949-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-09T08:37:46.949-07:00</app:edited><title>It's your first time? Oh, make a new row</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;You know those scenes in movies where the "awkard" child is trying to fit in with the cool kids and they just don't?&amp;nbsp; They&amp;nbsp;end up looking goofy and the audience feels bad for them.&amp;nbsp; Yeah, that was me yesterday.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"&gt;I have decided to do a little more than 20 minutes of daily cardio and 3 sets on the weight traiing circuit, I took in a yoga class yesterday.&amp;nbsp; Of course I was the last to arrive, all the good spots in the back were taken.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"&gt;"Just start a new row in the front" says Patty, the 40-odd year old instructor with the body of a 22 year old.&amp;nbsp; Sure, I'll start a new row, here in front of everyone who have been coming here forever, whose bodies are like elastic bands and they actually KNOW what they are doing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"&gt;I think putting the newbie in the front of everyone is really unfair.&amp;nbsp; I must have looked like a total fool, up there thinking I looked all ballerina-like.&amp;nbsp; I looked over my shoulder at one point and I was doing the exact opposite of what everyone else was!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/Ss9WqiwAl7I/AAAAAAAAACk/jhyqyQZeEow/s1600-h/picture-107.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img $r="true" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/Ss9WqiwAl7I/AAAAAAAAACk/jhyqyQZeEow/s320/picture-107.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Luckily, there was a nice lady in the class.&amp;nbsp; She whispered to me when I looked over my shoulder and discovered I was being a loser "turn around dear, you're all backwards."&amp;nbsp; It's hard to try something new and the only person you can see is backwards from you but explaining it the way you (me) are supposed to be doing it. It's like a 3-way mirror!&amp;nbsp; I managed to get through the entire 50-minute session.&amp;nbsp; I did things I didn't know I could still do.&amp;nbsp; It turns out I'm still pretty flexible, but my knees suck!&amp;nbsp; I sweat almost as much as I do while doing cardio. It was great.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;This morning, I can definitly "feel" my arms, neck and core.&amp;nbsp; What a great feeling it is!&amp;nbsp; I was also down again on my weigh-in.&amp;nbsp; I've taken off 5.4lbs since Wednesday!&amp;nbsp; WOW.&amp;nbsp; Wish every week could be like this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"&gt;It's Thanksgiving this weekend, no yoga for this guru.&amp;nbsp; Maybe a little yuzu foam?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-3818307864954827546?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TH2wtNupFkOCGWFTD6K0uox0A7k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TH2wtNupFkOCGWFTD6K0uox0A7k/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TH2wtNupFkOCGWFTD6K0uox0A7k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TH2wtNupFkOCGWFTD6K0uox0A7k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/mheqUfNmVtQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3818307864954827546/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-your-first-time-oh-make-new-row.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/3818307864954827546?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/3818307864954827546?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/mheqUfNmVtQ/its-your-first-time-oh-make-new-row.html" title="It's your first time? Oh, make a new row" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/Ss9WqiwAl7I/AAAAAAAAACk/jhyqyQZeEow/s72-c/picture-107.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-your-first-time-oh-make-new-row.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YNRH46fip7ImA9WxNXGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-4002802291195761988</id><published>2009-10-06T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T06:19:55.016-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-06T06:19:55.016-07:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;"&gt;It's Tuesday the 6th of October already.&amp;nbsp; I feel as if I have lost the last week to nothingness.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: inherit;"&gt;I spent last night in bed watching my puppy play with a piece of raw-hide.&amp;nbsp; It&amp;nbsp;isn't something we give him as raw-hide swells when it's wet and can choke puppies - but, his vet gave it to him after his appointment last night and he was totally in love with it.&amp;nbsp; Anyway, he played with it like it was alive.&amp;nbsp; Jumping on top of it, springing around like Tigger.&amp;nbsp; It was the cutest thing.&amp;nbsp; He makes me so happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;I read something this morning that has really made me stop and think.&amp;nbsp; Here it is.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;4 minutes later: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;6 minutes: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;10 minutes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;45 minutes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;1 hour:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SstDdFi9qVI/AAAAAAAAACc/d-9yUa7SLVg/s1600-h/perception.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img $r="true" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SstDdFi9qVI/AAAAAAAAACc/d-9yUa7SLVg/s320/perception.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities. The questions raised: in a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made ... How many other things are we missing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-4002802291195761988?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZHpIQ7HGEdJHUROHGBL5B3kUa4M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZHpIQ7HGEdJHUROHGBL5B3kUa4M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/xbu3Vhpnmh8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4002802291195761988/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-tuesday-6th-of-october-already.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/4002802291195761988?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/4002802291195761988?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/xbu3Vhpnmh8/its-tuesday-6th-of-october-already.html" title="" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SstDdFi9qVI/AAAAAAAAACc/d-9yUa7SLVg/s72-c/perception.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-tuesday-6th-of-october-already.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYDR3k6fyp7ImA9WxNXFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-8526382361419500463</id><published>2009-10-02T07:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T07:36:16.717-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-02T07:36:16.717-07:00</app:edited><title>The Crossing Lady</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsYPWE-9G0I/AAAAAAAAACE/DJaWt943NgM/s1600-h/Crossing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img $r="true" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsYPWE-9G0I/AAAAAAAAACE/DJaWt943NgM/s320/Crossing.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Do you suppose the crossing guard lady who is missing half her teeth has had an interesting life? I wonder what brought her to assist our school-age children with crossing a busy street. I see her every morning and sometimes in the afternoon as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;She's a larger woman who wears sweat-pants, her orange safety vest and carries her STOP sign like a torch handled by some ancient Grecian athlete. I haven't noticed what she wears on her feet, but I do imagine it's something like dark Velcro-closing sneakers from Wal-Mart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;This morning, while she had six or seven children waiting to cross, she was speaking to them about something that was no doubt very important to her. They all looked to be completely enthralled with what she had to say. Was she telling them they shouldn't have run across the side street? Perhaps what she had for dinner last evening? Or maybe she was telling them a tale of when she was a young, beautiful girl with hair like golden thread and teeny little feet that slipped into calf-skin dancing shoes while her dance card remained full every evening. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsYPd-6rRgI/AAAAAAAAACM/MF6DnGk4zLc/s1600-h/Mac_DancingShoes45+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img $r="true" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsYPd-6rRgI/AAAAAAAAACM/MF6DnGk4zLc/s320/Mac_DancingShoes45+copy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Do we ever stop to ask or even wonder about all those people around us? The crossing guard, the old guy picking up bananas at the gas station because they are $0.20 cents cheaper than at the grocery store, the lady you see out for her morning walk. I wonder about all their stories. Who lost a loved one early on in life? Who taught children for 35 years? Who drove a truck filled with goods for our stores? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;So many stories, so many we'll never have the pleasure of hearing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-8526382361419500463?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4-Y4koZx7aeeU2Hcw048T0CKTGI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4-Y4koZx7aeeU2Hcw048T0CKTGI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~4/QZR7gA3j7Lc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8526382361419500463/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/10/crossing-lady.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/8526382361419500463?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8758702785191283810/posts/default/8526382361419500463?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AFairMaiden/~3/QZR7gA3j7Lc/crossing-lady.html" title="The Crossing Lady" /><author><name>A-fair Maiden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02760921275156785911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="21" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJYzeu7A1I/AAAAAAAAAAo/FAMPtHECXU4/S220/fog1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsYPWE-9G0I/AAAAAAAAACE/DJaWt943NgM/s72-c/Crossing.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://annsaffairs.blogspot.com/2009/10/crossing-lady.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YCSX46eCp7ImA9WxNXFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8758702785191283810.post-2392361070756475670</id><published>2009-10-01T05:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T05:46:08.010-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T05:46:08.010-07:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;October 1st.&amp;nbsp; Where has the time flown?&amp;nbsp; There's a whole bunch of stuff floating around in my head this morning.&amp;nbsp; Not sure where to start.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;I had an email from an old friend this morning.&amp;nbsp; Her dad is suffering from cancer, terminal cancer.&amp;nbsp; What a terrible situation to have to deal with, but so many people do.&amp;nbsp; I've been blessed in my life thus far - no one close to me has suffered from this awful disease.&amp;nbsp; I should reword that, many close to me have suffered, no on in my immediate family has.&amp;nbsp; Thankfully.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It was a beautiful email which she wrote. She is someone whom I wasn't really good freinds with when we were growing up.&amp;nbsp; We become close in our 20's and 30's and have become closer in our 40's.&amp;nbsp; It's easy, we share things, we write, we see one another every now and then.&amp;nbsp; We have no expectations of one another, just to be there.&amp;nbsp; It works, I like it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;She is a rock where her dad is concerned.&amp;nbsp; I told her in my response I wasn't sure I could hold it together as well as she does.&amp;nbsp; She, like me, lives away from her family.&amp;nbsp; That part is the hardest.&amp;nbsp; She has told me she looks at it all this way, there's nothing she can do, it is what is.&amp;nbsp; That thing called life.&amp;nbsp; Sucks sometimes doesn't it?&amp;nbsp; Saying goodbye is the hardest.&amp;nbsp; It's never easy, but when you're saying goodbye forever.&amp;nbsp; Wow, that's almost impossible to think about.&amp;nbsp; So I don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;On a happy note, I'm off to a $200 a plate dinner this evening.&amp;nbsp;It's a fund raiser for our local symphony, &amp;nbsp;New Zealand wines are being featured. My dad used to live in New Zealand, I feel a connection.&amp;nbsp; Not really, I just pretend I do.&amp;nbsp; Should be an interesting evening, it's a work thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tomorrow evening is a wine tasting event with my love and some friends and Saturday it's a BBQ for all the staff here ~ at my place!&amp;nbsp; Pretty full agenda, once again.&amp;nbsp; It's how I thrive I think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Time to give that event planning business some more thought I believe.&amp;nbsp; I know I'll regret it if I don't start it in some form.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta; font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Off to make the donuts.&amp;nbsp; Cheers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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She is always happy and approachable, as I try to be as well. I'll call her "Tess."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;A fellow co-worker who walked in behind me actually interupted Tess while she was saying good morning to him. He was looking for someting and completely ignored her "Good morning!" I had to walk away, it was the rudest thing I've ever witnessed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;It gets better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I arrive at my desk, another co-worker is already at his desk, working diligently away. I say "Good morning!" No reponse. I then proceed to say "Wow, I work with the grumpiest bunch of men I've ever known, no one can even say good morning." Still nothing. No reply at all - he wasn;t on the phone, there was no music in his ears. What's the problem? What's wrong with everyone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I don 't understand. Why are people so caught up in their own little spaces that they don't have the courtesy to reply to a good morning? How can they be so self-absorbed that they don't think to even say it themselves?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Is being happy and courteous really that old fashioned? Do people laugh at those like me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I was in Las Vegas recently. I popped into the ladies room where there was a woman cleaning the granite countertops. I stopped and said hello to her and went on to tell her what a wonderful job she does at keeping the bathrooms so spotless. She looked at me with disbelief and simply said "Thank you so much." I bet it was probably the first time anyone had taken the time to let her know how much we actaully appreciate the job she does. So she cleans casino bathrooms for a living? Does that make her any less important than the pit boss or the casino owner? I don't think so. She obviously took pride in her work and she made at least one person happy today. Did you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;I think it's time for us to reevaluate our thought processes, our morals and our common courtesys. What has happened to us?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsNXaQLMvZI/AAAAAAAAAB8/-UQ-Dsw7leM/s1600-h/good-morning164.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 317px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387245687795400082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsNXaQLMvZI/AAAAAAAAAB8/-UQ-Dsw7leM/s400/good-morning164.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Good morning everyone, have a splendid day! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8758702785191283810-7518216016052996590?l=annsaffairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33ccff; font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;It's been an interesting day to say the least. I had a wonderful friend email me last night. I am a lucky girl. He emailed me to tell me he had been contacted by an "agency" in Great Britian. Turns out his "birth mother" is looking for him. Hmm.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33ccff; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33ccff; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;I've been mulling it over in my head all day. It's still such a taboo subject but yet it's as common as getting married! Think about it this way, if it weren't for teenage girls and young women&amp;nbsp;becoming pregnant before they were married, how many happy family's wouldn't be as happy as they are now because of a young girl who couldn't raise her baby on her own. Sure, those of you who have never been through the ordeal can snicker and talk about others being promiscuous or a "bad" girl but remember, those who live in glass houses should never through stones. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #33ccff; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Adoption conjures up so many different feelings to so many different people. I can think of 5 people instantly, who have been affected by adoption in some way. Imagine if I gave it some heavy duty thinking ~ it's probably affected more people then you and I think. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33ccff; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33ccff; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;It comes with sad memories for some, the young unmarried mother, the couple who have gone through the heart ache of miscarriage, unsuccessful fertility treatments and the pain of seeing others with their new born babies. But put the sad memories aside, think of the happiness it brings to lives. Suddenly, there's a family where it used to be two. As the years move on, so does the pain - at least for the new family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33ccff; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJRUD5dy0I/AAAAAAAAAAc/HGFeiHOsq8Y/s1600-h/Adoption__changing+lives.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386957509374102338" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-OVhu28uPwM/SsJRUD5dy0I/AAAAAAAAAAc/HGFeiHOsq8Y/s400/Adoption__changing+lives.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 164px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 214px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33ccff; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;I wonder does anyone ever stop to think of the pain of the young girl who suddenly finds herself in her 30's or 40's with an empty spot in her heart? Who really cares about her feelings now? Sure, some will say "it's her own fault, she gave her baby away, she deserves never to know." Does anyone ever stop to think that this may have been a selfless act, giving a part of her away so another couple, a woman, or a man can raise the child she created and gave life? I wonder how many young mothers didn't end up on welfare because she chose adoption and was able to finish her education and go on to become a successful member of society, with the hopes that the tiny son or daughter she gave up as her own went on to the same successes in their lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33ccff; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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