<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113</id><updated>2024-09-08T07:58:44.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>jena louise</title><subtitle type='html'>I used to wear my heart on my sleeve, now I just type it onto my blog.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113.post-7852813010328000231</id><published>2012-04-13T00:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-04-13T00:10:27.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the sun&#39;ll come out....</title><content type='html'>Tonight, I heard &quot;Tomorrow&quot; originally sung by Annie and boy did it bring back so many memories. For one, I had that soundtrack on tape and I used to listen to it at the loudest possible level, in my front yard, while singing along at my highest octave. That is, until a very kind neighbor reminded me it was only 7am on a Saturday. &quot;Although my singing was wonderful&quot;, she yelled out of her window to me, &quot;could I please wait until later to serenade the apartment complex?&quot;. I have always loved that song, but tonight I thought to myself, &quot;boy was that song the soundtrack of my life!&quot; I mean, was I a fortune teller or what?&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;We use that word so loosely. Tomorrow we will have more money. Tomorrow, we will get together for coffee. Tomorrow, we will plan a family vacation. Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow. Then 2012 hit. Like a ton of bricks. 4 deaths or 5, not sure, I think I may have lost count. Amongst other stressful things that have happened in the last 90 or so days. Now, tomorrow seems so uncertain and almost frightening to me.. But the song does say the sun will come out &quot;Tomorrow&quot;, right? I&#39;m beginning to wonder if the soundtrack to my life goes more like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/BB54JGNu6vQ?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;All negativity aside, the sun always does come out tomorrow. granted it&#39;s not raining or snowing or if the sun is covered in clouds..then it won&#39;t..come out. I think i will listen to the song again. I am normally not a pessimist and this song that I have loved so much my whole life (especially when I was 6 and a half) just might be part of the reason why. You have to have hope that things won&#39;t always be THIS way. Tomorrow will come till it&#39;s next week, next month, next year and the things you were so worried about are all things that you overcame and made it through and then you can say this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object class=&quot;BLOGGER-youtube-video&quot; classid=&quot;clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000&quot; codebase=&quot;http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0&quot; data-thumbnail-src=&quot;http://3.gvt0.com/vi/_nM_-CFRBS8/0.jpg&quot; height=&quot;266&quot; width=&quot;320&quot;&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;movie&quot; value=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/_nM_-CFRBS8&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds&quot; /&gt;&lt;param name=&quot;bgcolor&quot; value=&quot;#FFFFFF&quot; /&gt;&lt;embed width=&quot;320&quot; height=&quot;266&quot;  src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/_nM_-CFRBS8&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds&quot; type=&quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&quot;&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Also from Annie..LOL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;I didn&#39;t love that movie or it&#39;s music at all did I??&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/7852813010328000231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2012/04/sunll-come-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/7852813010328000231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/7852813010328000231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2012/04/sunll-come-out.html' title='the sun&#39;ll come out....'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113.post-6907490226920730906</id><published>2012-03-03T21:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-03-03T21:20:35.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THINGS I LOVE</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: purple; font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue&#39;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JgcxNBMH_TmCMVsJ5mLNRtatowO3UMCNVkjHBz64VTGBdGldLZ47hagsSI9OHW8hrRKRVqdyfbpFAqnbN2S6TRJ1zTSQo8z_qBoGj6mbxwnfUnz8qIxbtAwqyZDGeO2XFicAhnrHCP0/s1600/i+love+this+flower.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JgcxNBMH_TmCMVsJ5mLNRtatowO3UMCNVkjHBz64VTGBdGldLZ47hagsSI9OHW8hrRKRVqdyfbpFAqnbN2S6TRJ1zTSQo8z_qBoGj6mbxwnfUnz8qIxbtAwqyZDGeO2XFicAhnrHCP0/s320/i+love+this+flower.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;S&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;o, this litle guy, or should I say girl makes me happy. Just a dollar, a measley dollar and I am happy to see her everyday. She sits in my car on the dash and she&#39;s solar so the sun makes her dance. It&#39;s kinda distracting but it&#39;s a dollar worth of happiness for me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ04HaEITFT73mZW5nzKFCtQMM_o3ca-DVi56WOjR9FG4NcVPhTDEo4Dl9lAOGygv-iAFhiHAGnImQwMXnUxAUYI91aiMYq7YnSSSprlbg9EbIgAKH8iHnUpWbsFO5nDt8oU7pN4zhWGI/s1600/alex+happy+after+a+goal2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ04HaEITFT73mZW5nzKFCtQMM_o3ca-DVi56WOjR9FG4NcVPhTDEo4Dl9lAOGygv-iAFhiHAGnImQwMXnUxAUYI91aiMYq7YnSSSprlbg9EbIgAKH8iHnUpWbsFO5nDt8oU7pN4zhWGI/s320/alex+happy+after+a+goal2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Alex scoring goals for 14 yrs of his life, this made me happy. No real explanation needed, I mean look a his face in these shots. Just hard work and then BAM,pay off! Thanks Alex, for bringing me that joy for that long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEion5fJskU6bCtmG_giasS98x0AutjriLWGmxO2QkYB5mC7eKTrOQhehucbv0EYHVkwHVRH2UDMSLhh7xf3ino-CSGz0kORXh_5_-lRhbTudFULx75st_OOaMVePc3wJDa5nQtcEbdvpIY/s1600/rich+safe+and+sound.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEion5fJskU6bCtmG_giasS98x0AutjriLWGmxO2QkYB5mC7eKTrOQhehucbv0EYHVkwHVRH2UDMSLhh7xf3ino-CSGz0kORXh_5_-lRhbTudFULx75st_OOaMVePc3wJDa5nQtcEbdvpIY/s320/rich+safe+and+sound.jpg&quot; width=&quot;231&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Rich returning home after being in harms way. Now that&#39;s happiness!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKrgWNDD2K8YJvYfYfrX8mIqy0Ph1HyYpPAhbxd2-g3DjKli7CaKlJrnK2jlNBGy2Z7LLSch_QpJt-AGcZP6kBvKGgvJ26OcyMQ2osY4XDjggaiRsYoIXnH6aR3lN6DUoI6-LDHBVwaU/s1600/mydaughterlaughing.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKrgWNDD2K8YJvYfYfrX8mIqy0Ph1HyYpPAhbxd2-g3DjKli7CaKlJrnK2jlNBGy2Z7LLSch_QpJt-AGcZP6kBvKGgvJ26OcyMQ2osY4XDjggaiRsYoIXnH6aR3lN6DUoI6-LDHBVwaU/s320/mydaughterlaughing.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;My daughter&#39;s laugh. I love to see it, hear it and giggle along with it. Enough said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYgguFECqquprHMb9d_ouWi8HYUowMzAlDnAuMi7ClRRcyvyRmakamCHXECeyRlS-_WKriBZfWylcj-T_pK4_r6xmQa7cDwlaQJceRa8hs-QbHzJA2o1GpGs9_ArRoerNSv-bCUf1bfE/s1600/redo.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYgguFECqquprHMb9d_ouWi8HYUowMzAlDnAuMi7ClRRcyvyRmakamCHXECeyRlS-_WKriBZfWylcj-T_pK4_r6xmQa7cDwlaQJceRa8hs-QbHzJA2o1GpGs9_ArRoerNSv-bCUf1bfE/s320/redo.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Repurposing furniture. It&#39;s kind of like scrapbooking for me, I don&#39;t think about anything else when I am redoing a piece. I just think about how great the project is going to look when it&#39;s done. Anticipation at it&#39;s finest right there. Like a kid waiting for Christmas or a mickey lover waiting to enter the gates of Disneyland.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjilmfKbbxFEKU-B3izfamoBqPZ2v7flDmLMFG2dg-apND7NhGouYfbMZ-qXr8A3I2NfCxD3Hvv5PUAzLM6g57h2wPHcJoG4wEdQD3l4q0nSRqAa61CuFOW-4M4YVslvulqWTA3kdc8iKQ/s1600/abbee.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;239&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjilmfKbbxFEKU-B3izfamoBqPZ2v7flDmLMFG2dg-apND7NhGouYfbMZ-qXr8A3I2NfCxD3Hvv5PUAzLM6g57h2wPHcJoG4wEdQD3l4q0nSRqAa61CuFOW-4M4YVslvulqWTA3kdc8iKQ/s320/abbee.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;My pets make me happy (most of the time). Here&#39;s a pic of Abbee, our rottie of 16 yrs, we had her for 12. She adopted us with a house purchase in Modesto in the year 2000. Our pets always seem to just fall into our laps somehow. She was a gentle giant. Knew how to hug like a human. RIP sweet girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Photography.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Yep, shooting pics, even if I am just a point and shooter. For now. I will someday take a class but for now just grabbin the cam, finding a spot (sometimes stumbling upon one) and then just seeing how it goes is my thing. I&#39;ll own that, sure. Case in point: the first shot of Bailee and Kaleigh is blurry and well, boring. so the next shot I was like &quot;act like you just won a million dollars!&quot; and B.I.N.G.O was his NAME-O! The shot of the night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjssdLpYT2bWzZAKFbcqWgUSTmUR-CXFPQP2YT6FW65koYvGSOyaBLkUYdsY5bXmAHGdrM4bt_rtERHnmY9QyBKSrpWdyknbzhFuc4iS0aL88UH3tdfVE4X1T6LjSVo-iX8px_Shsgg8AQ/s1600/kinda+blurry.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjssdLpYT2bWzZAKFbcqWgUSTmUR-CXFPQP2YT6FW65koYvGSOyaBLkUYdsY5bXmAHGdrM4bt_rtERHnmY9QyBKSrpWdyknbzhFuc4iS0aL88UH3tdfVE4X1T6LjSVo-iX8px_Shsgg8AQ/s320/kinda+blurry.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;So many things make me happy, just thought I&#39;d share and remind myself that life has it&#39;s ups!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #eeeeee; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Thanks for reading &amp;nbsp;and please let me know what you think. Did it make you happy to read this? What makes you happy??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #4c1130; font-family: &#39;Courier New&#39;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/6907490226920730906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2012/03/things-i-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/6907490226920730906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/6907490226920730906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2012/03/things-i-love.html' title='THINGS I LOVE'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JgcxNBMH_TmCMVsJ5mLNRtatowO3UMCNVkjHBz64VTGBdGldLZ47hagsSI9OHW8hrRKRVqdyfbpFAqnbN2S6TRJ1zTSQo8z_qBoGj6mbxwnfUnz8qIxbtAwqyZDGeO2XFicAhnrHCP0/s72-c/i+love+this+flower.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113.post-4615907358943995942</id><published>2012-02-29T22:57:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-29T23:06:07.257-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How did we get here?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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I am not sure how this happened but here we are again kiddo, unfortunately, at odds and getting ready to say goodbye. Only this time, it&#39;s for good. We move in with family and you are going to find alternative housing. Just the other day it hit me that I actually kicked you out, that&#39;s it for us, no longer a family of four, put a fork in us, were done. I asked myself, &quot;how did we get here?&quot; How did I go from a paranoid mother to one that kicks her son out on the street? When did the worry about you falling after just learning how to walk, the trips that felt so annoying to the store cuz I had to strap you in and out of the car seat, the fun trips away for soccer, the family dinners together stop and &amp;nbsp;become replaced with arguments about what you are doing to yourself and how the choices you are making affect the family become normal conversation? I think this is what hurts the most.&lt;br /&gt;
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I remember when I was pregnant with you driving by a huge house in the country with an iron gate and telling your Dad that I wanted to live behind a safe gate like that. He thought it was ridiculous of course, and as usual I was labeled paranoid and we argued, him saying that you can&#39;t live your life in fear and me making my point that nothing will EVER be too safe for my future children! I still feel that way and I &amp;nbsp;worry that 11 days from now you will be on the street and you act like you have not a care in the world about it.&lt;br /&gt;
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Life used to be really good. So good in fact, &amp;nbsp;that I felt guilty all the time and sad for the people that weren&#39;t as happy as we were. I look back at pictures and can see it in our smiles and I remember how I felt. The times that weren&#39;t so great, I can see in pictures too. Those pictures are very hard to look at or scrapbook. I think I have skipped some just because they made me so sad to look at them.&lt;br /&gt;
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There are days that I think to myself, what a wonderful world...no sorry..whenever I say or type something that sounds like lyrics to a song, I can&#39;t help but finish the sentence with the rest of that song. I also can&#39;t create a blog post without trying to make someone laugh. Anyway, once we get past all of this conflict and arguing with you, there&#39;s no doubt in my mind that we can like each other again. I believe that someday in the future we will again be the picture of a family to be jealous of. At least, that&#39;s what I wish for the most.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/4615907358943995942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2012/02/how-did-we-get-here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/4615907358943995942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/4615907358943995942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2012/02/how-did-we-get-here.html' title='How did we get here?'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113.post-4268030880690070254</id><published>2011-10-18T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T11:16:08.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>temper, temper</title><content type='html'>A couple of weeks ago, my sister and I were having a discussion about a family member that were not too happy with. I was describing an annoying conversation I had with this person about my veggie garden. I was very proud of this veggie garden and all this person could say was something along the lines of &quot;when I have a veggie garden, it&#39;s going to be sooo much better.&quot; Kinda childish, but so was my inner reaction. &quot;Really?&quot; I thought to myself, &quot;well, when you build this SPECTACULAR GARDEN, I will be sure to tip toe over to your house (which you don&#39;t yet have I might add, you have to actually live in a house with a yard to HAVE a garden) like spy vs. spy and release like 1000 aphids, gophers, rabbits&amp;nbsp;and grubs to eat your garden into oblivion.&quot; All I was missing during this inner monologue was an evil laugh. What was this person going to plant to make it soooo much better than mine anyway? A fricken BANANA TREE? My next thought is &quot;man, I really should get this anger issue of mine under control.&quot; But I can&#39;t. Why? Because I am Italian. Just kidding, that&#39;s not the only reason but as stereotypical as this may sound, it&#39;s probably a contributing factor. Last night, I was telling my husband how fascinated I am with people. Why people react the way they do. Is it environment, how they were raised? What makes a person either follow in their parent&#39;s footsteps or go the opposite direction entirely? I know in my case, I have had my share of people around me that have had one hell of a time controlling themselves. Also, there are certain similarities in my personality that you wouldn&#39;t think would be passed down but there is no other explanation. My biological father&amp;nbsp;is a good example of this. We are both total and complete neat freaks. We talked one day about how crumbs on the counter is grounds for a temper tantrum and I wasn&#39;t raised by him, it&#39;s just in our DNA I guess. My mom is a clean freak too, but I wouldn&#39;t say I got my temper from her.&lt;br /&gt;
So back to this annoying person. On another occasion, I made the mistake of saying &quot;I wish my garage was clean.&quot; And the reply I heard sent me through the roof. I kept it contained but in my mind steam is coming out of my ears. He says, &quot;when I have a garage, it&#39;s going to be spotless, because a garage says a lot about a person&quot;. Really? It does? hmm, well you know what my garage says? &quot;If you don&#39;t step out of my way, something heavy and sharp is going to mysteriously fall on your head.&quot; No, what it really says is we are too&amp;nbsp;EFFING busy to clean it.&amp;nbsp;Or, it says we have a family member or two that plays soccer&amp;nbsp;EVERY WAKING&amp;nbsp;second of their lives, so we need every kind of soccer ball, soccer pump and soccer cone you can imagine in our possession. Therefore, we don&#39;t have time to douche our garage because we are too flipping busy loading and unloading those said soccer balls, pumps and cones&amp;nbsp;in and out of the &quot;soccer-mobile&quot; so we can get better at playing and coaching soccer!&lt;br /&gt;
In the middle of this blog post, as fate would have it, I was distracted by something very important. Making my husband something to eat, because, as I told him to his face, he is helpless.&amp;nbsp;Then, by open enrollment phone calls and deliberation, with my helpless husband, who by the way totally impressed me and signed us up for what will end up saving us a massive amount of money come January. I love you babe, you&#39;re the best! So I am&amp;nbsp;distracted by this website&amp;nbsp;I &quot;stumbled upon&quot; called &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.highexistence.com/life-secrets-and-tips&quot;&gt;www.highexistence.com/life-secrets-and-tips&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;WOW! I wish I&#39;d read that earlier...like waaay early...years in fact...&amp;nbsp;before I let my temper take over. 50 tips on how to relax, meditate, think positively. This blogger is my hero and to say the least, a genius. I&#39;M REFORMED! Not really, but it sure did help. You should check it out too,if you are Italian, I mean if you have a temper. I think it puts things into perspective. I&#39;ll let you know how I feel in a few weeks....if I was able to put these tips and secrets to good use.....after a few more people&amp;nbsp;TRY to piss me off.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/4268030880690070254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/10/temper-temper.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/4268030880690070254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/4268030880690070254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/10/temper-temper.html' title='temper, temper'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113.post-8740114170526108995</id><published>2011-07-23T00:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-29T17:15:16.989-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Come on Homeboy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/wx-dUsh6OT8?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well..it&#39;s been a little over a month since you abruptly left&amp;nbsp;and I can&#39;t say it&#39;s gotten any easier for any of us. I have to say, I have probably cried every day at least once since you moved out. Your last words were &quot;for the record, that&#39;s my x-box&quot;. I&#39;m not sure if what you said hurts more than knowing what you are doing to your body. After all, we made that body and for a long time, you kept it pure and chemical free just how we prefer it. &lt;br /&gt;
Everything seems to remind me of you. Tonight, I passed by a display of your favorite chips, blazin&#39; buffalo ranch Doritos for $1.99 and I had to talk myself out of buying them. I don&#39;t eat them, nor do I need the calories but I felt like Jim Carrey in the movie &quot;Liar Liar&quot;. The scene where he is trying not to write the truth and he&#39;s battling with the pen. Only I had my hand on the doritos and I am telling myself, &quot;he&#39;s not here, Jena...therefore he CAN&#39;T eat them.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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I think to myself, &quot;what could I have done differently?&quot; I know I am not perfect and I am sure I&#39;ve had a number of mistakes under my belt but mostly I think I did the very best I could. I stayed home for almost your whole 18 yrs, running a daycare for 8 of those years out of the house just so I could be available to you and your sister. I sacrificed new clothes for thrift store finds&amp;nbsp;most of the time so we could afford comp soccer with hopes you would play college ball someday. Most of all, I loved you (and still do) with every ounce of my being and I will spend the rest of my life worrying about you and hoping you will be the best person you can be. It&#39;s what mom&#39;s do!&lt;br /&gt;
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I had a hard time too, &amp;nbsp;packing your bag of necessities for you to pick up in the morning. The referee jersey and accessories&amp;nbsp;was the easy part. The rest of the items hit me. You asked for socks and underwear and I opened the drawer....your favorite boxers were right there. I packed them first. Just like you were still here and even though I am mad at you and my feelings are hurt, I thought to myself &quot;he really loves these&quot;, while picturing a smile on your face when you unpacked them. I said that to a friend via text and she replied with &quot;aww, that&#39;s nice you want his peepee to be comfy?&quot; which made me LOL! &amp;nbsp;Her intention to put a smile on my face during an all-time&amp;nbsp;low in my mood. Thank you Lisa Varni~you are my bfff!&lt;br /&gt;
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My dad came for a visit tonight and took us out to dinner, without you. I shouldn&#39;t feel guilty but I do having a good time without you. You chose to leave and I feel guilty,&amp;nbsp;what? I told my dad tonight that I didn&#39;t think our rules were that unreasonable...most of our rules&amp;nbsp;for you and Bailee are for YOUR safety and well&amp;nbsp;being. &amp;nbsp;Don&#39;t drink and drive, no drugs in this house or your car, be home before 12:30 am&amp;nbsp;because as it gets closer to &quot;last call&quot; at the bars, the greater the risk of being hit by a drunk driver, be respectful, get a job, get good grades, don&#39;t sleep all day and help out around the house. Seems easy enough to me but I guess rules are so unbearable that you&#39;d rather sleep in a hot car&amp;nbsp;or couch surf? &lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m totally babbling..it&#39;s not my best post by any means but it&#39;s how I feel right now and getting it out seems to help. I&#39;ll wrap this up by saying I want you to come on homeboy, but only if you are ready and willing to follow the rules of this household. No more lies, no more excuses, be the kid I know you can be, make us proud.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/8740114170526108995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/07/come-on-homeboy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/8740114170526108995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/8740114170526108995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/07/come-on-homeboy.html' title='Come on Homeboy'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113.post-7856334565321899989</id><published>2011-06-01T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T17:44:43.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories, like the corner of my mind</title><content type='html'>This morning as I watched the mocha I had just ordered swirl around the cup so pretty like a chocolate sunset, it reminded me of when we lived in Crescent City. Way up north near the Oregon border, little one&amp;nbsp; horse town with just a Safeway, Grocery Outlet and a JCPenney&#39;s catalog store. Alex was just a baby when we lived there, from 1994-95, where we celebrated his 2nd birthday, rented our first house, adopted our first dog &quot;Buddy&quot; and the best part? We lived just 2 blocks from the beach. When I think about it, I miss it, but I miss just about every city we lived in....with an exception of Highland in Socal. That place could disappear off the face of the planet and I wouldn&#39;t give a hoot. Anyway, there was a delicious cafe on the corner of Nowhere Street and Boonies Avenue, we used to regular there. Funny I don&#39;t remember the street names or the name of the cafe and this blog post is&amp;nbsp;about memories. My next blog post should be&amp;nbsp;labeled dementia, it&#39;s not just for seniors anymore!&amp;nbsp;They had mochas and lattes TO DIE FOR! I didn&#39;t even know what they were before visiting this place.&amp;nbsp; I guess you could call it &quot;BM&quot; before mocha. I remember being amazed at how the milk and coffee met with yummy swirls&amp;nbsp;trying to merge together as the cup was served. It was heaven in a whimsical little mug. &lt;br /&gt;
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Memories for other people are just as interesting as what jogs mine. My Grammie and I were just recently&amp;nbsp;in a store and they had an old register with the push buttons, accepts cash only. She turned to me with a smile on&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt; her face and &lt;/span&gt;said &quot;back in my day, that&#39;s all we had&quot;. It made me think how she must feel in this world, things are so different now. Cell phones, computers, text messaging, which she has a good grasp of by the way, her humor even comes across in almost every text she sends. When we got her a new cell phone, she immediately wanted to change the ring-tone to &quot;vintage telephone&quot;, it&#39;s nostalgic for her, probably reminds her of her first phone. Also,&amp;nbsp;I think it&#39;s what she recognizes easily and it&#39;s the loudest choice! &lt;br /&gt;
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The smell of rain always makes me think of one of my first dates with my husband. It was pouring down rain and we went to Bancheros (makes me smell Italian food to even say that word), it&#39;s only the best Italian food restaurant in Northern California. We always brought food home, the portions are decent sized and it&#39;s family style so by the time you get to your entree, &quot;fugedaboutid&quot;, you&#39;ll never finish it. So back to the rainy part, we got out of the car and I spilled my spaghetti on the driveway. It was raining so hard that it slid down the driveway like slimy worms. It made us laugh big belly laughs (it&#39;s not that funny today) but we were happy, in love and everything was funny. Plus, when I first started seeing Rich, I drank iced tea with every meal and the caffeine made me hysterically laugh each time.&lt;br /&gt;
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I know I am going on and on about this subject but as a scrap-booker ( I just typed &quot;crap-booker which reminds me of the time that I sold a pair of capris on ebay and I listed them as &quot;crapi&quot; jeans, they shockingly sold, I guess there&#39;s something for everyone!) As I was saying, as a SCRAP-BOOKER, memories are my thing. I have to remember every little detail so I can journal them for later, much later when I am gone and my kids are thumbing through the albums. I also wrote in their baby books, little sayings and funny stories. I&#39;ve always liked to hear them about me. My Grammie has told the story a hundred times about how I would yell &quot;NEVERRRRR&quot; from outside the house when they would tell me to turn off the hose. It&#39;s a funny visual and it&#39;s very me, bossy, defiant and a rebel WITH a cause. That day it just happened to be playing with the water.&lt;br /&gt;
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Memories are intangible, priceless and one of the most important things in my life. They&#39;re what made me what I am today....</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/7856334565321899989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/06/memories-like-corner-of-my-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/7856334565321899989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/7856334565321899989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/06/memories-like-corner-of-my-mind.html' title='Memories, like the corner of my mind'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113.post-8659739394262305311</id><published>2011-05-26T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T10:21:27.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanna save Money?</title><content type='html'>Visit my coupon blog and learn how to save money by using coupons, bargain internet shopping and using natural products that you typically have on hand for blemishes and cleaning!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.calistylecoupons.com/&quot;&gt;http://www.calistylecoupons.com/&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/8659739394262305311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/05/wanna-save-money.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/8659739394262305311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/8659739394262305311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/05/wanna-save-money.html' title='Wanna save Money?'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113.post-97399662462461196</id><published>2011-05-25T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T19:21:30.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>&quot;Raising kids is like being pecked to death by chickens&quot;</title><content type='html'>So, next week I will officially have a high-school graduate and a middle schooler and I have mixed feelings on this. 18 and 12 yrs have literally flown by like the speed of light. It&#39;s had it&#39;s share of ups and downs and for the most part, I wish it wasn&#39;t over. Caroline Manzo on the Housewives of New Jersey summed it up quite well when saying, &quot;It&#39;s one of the proudest times in your life but it feels like a stab in the heart at the same time&quot;. When the kids were little, I thought I would be so happy that the car trips with car seats were over. I thought I would scream if I had to search for Bailee&#39;s shoes one more time after she removed them on those car rides. Or how lucky I&#39;d be if I didn&#39;t have to stop the car to threaten a spanking to the kid who weasled their way out of the car seat straps....AGAIN!! Now I think to myself (and to Rich at times), gone are the wet toddler kisses, baths in the kitchen sink and excessive band-aids for miniscule &quot;owees&quot;. No more dances to document with my camera for my oldest (not that he attended very many of them which is all the more reason to be sad it&#39;s over). For my youngest, it&#39;s already started, the roll of the eyes, attitude and &quot;Oh Mom&quot; after EVERYTHING I say. &lt;br /&gt;
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I know I have to look forward to the future. With that hopefully comes another diploma (even if it is from a JC), Alex if you are reading this Humboldt still accepted you, it&#39;s not too late! Then in the very FAR future, a wife for Alex and grand-babies for me which I can&#39;t wait to share with him. Let me clarify by saying that doesn&#39;t mean he should hurry. I will look forward to dances overly documented with my camera for Bailee if she has any say in it. I am also sure I can count on many more walks with just Bailee and I, her doing most of the talking (such a typical girl, I pray that her future husband has lots of patience and the gift of silent listening).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDiW1xs9zF7cGe-zuQ_a629Cs28_ZAjjLatwNcbM7KoBTgWWnYMag4RvwwU569IjyKt4npFpaYHwSvvSoB6YKtpA2dmWPhQpC9MvHKoR_nUTkR7XX7dXRd5_QUK0H0f0DRqoc_VhcniKM/s1600/scan0001.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;211&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDiW1xs9zF7cGe-zuQ_a629Cs28_ZAjjLatwNcbM7KoBTgWWnYMag4RvwwU569IjyKt4npFpaYHwSvvSoB6YKtpA2dmWPhQpC9MvHKoR_nUTkR7XX7dXRd5_QUK0H0f0DRqoc_VhcniKM/s320/scan0001.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Raising kids might feel I am being pecked to death by chickens but I am not sure I am ready for the torture to come to such an unwelcome stop. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqhyPr4Z6FHQraJkMu7Llc8sRcqn-pHem-rMMMIdjKdDPr8ALmTuk-Enr8EUvSDi3mUwVl_Q5BKXLNTmB1YI5AuQbLL6C_dPfWJaX6s-bOI2yB-sBs9hvKIruGsKlnsjUPsYWNg_GZFOs/s1600/scan0004.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;214&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqhyPr4Z6FHQraJkMu7Llc8sRcqn-pHem-rMMMIdjKdDPr8ALmTuk-Enr8EUvSDi3mUwVl_Q5BKXLNTmB1YI5AuQbLL6C_dPfWJaX6s-bOI2yB-sBs9hvKIruGsKlnsjUPsYWNg_GZFOs/s320/scan0004.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNd3kkw3FhC7ISu3VWk4Xu3_qKMgVJCsWxnA5jqdV4W9EjCpvqF0lhiYoVESQ-7tZ7eEmFrczlsoANawgkqC5hW9hJRjVJqDUIkGD4rdBiTOsp8JgJt7g8G3lkEclFjX9QT81jXYvq6Ak/s1600/DSC_0089.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;214&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNd3kkw3FhC7ISu3VWk4Xu3_qKMgVJCsWxnA5jqdV4W9EjCpvqF0lhiYoVESQ-7tZ7eEmFrczlsoANawgkqC5hW9hJRjVJqDUIkGD4rdBiTOsp8JgJt7g8G3lkEclFjX9QT81jXYvq6Ak/s320/DSC_0089.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/97399662462461196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/05/raising-kids-is-like-being-pecked-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/97399662462461196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/97399662462461196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/05/raising-kids-is-like-being-pecked-to.html' title='&quot;Raising kids is like being pecked to death by chickens&quot;'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGT55OCiE8ORCYUMFekHGqK3uQDfWQzEQCODNN_V_fL4pIW_tll6A8XrlVQv2XpMtWFh6NNEOjWk8CyphMwbo30wKLRXogBDWJbS-RgBF2aIl0cHbnb1Ngtb460cqa7JqSSYOJXqej0s/s72-c/scan0002.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113.post-6833723629668401899</id><published>2011-05-11T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T10:26:14.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>&quot;Never say Never&quot; from a previous entry Feb 12th, 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;iframe align=&quot;left&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; marginheight=&quot;0&quot; marginwidth=&quot;0&quot; scrolling=&quot;no&quot; src=&quot;http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=calistylecoup-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B004LSTRQA&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr&quot; style=&quot;align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style=&quot;color: #261a11; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 15px 10px; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;iframe align=&quot;left&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; marginheight=&quot;0&quot; marginwidth=&quot;0&quot; scrolling=&quot;no&quot; src=&quot;http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=calistylecoup-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B004A8ZX1O&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr&quot; style=&quot;align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Tonight, my daughter and I went to go see Justin Beiber’s “Never say Never” documentary on the big screen…in 3-D. I’ll start by saying I didn’t care for the kid when he first came out. I NEVER thought I would like him myself. I thought he had no talent (I literally rolled my eyes and said to myself “another force fed teen idol”) and I heard rumors about his tantrums and attitude in public, from gossip mags of course. I must say I stand so severely corrected, I was incredibly moved by this documentary, so much so that I found myself crying through 75% of it. His mom was a young single mother, her parents helped raise Justin and they are a very spiritual, super supportive, tight knit family. I learned that he is actually extremely gifted and from a very young age had this natural musical talent and a way about him that is just mesmerizing. He also did not take no for an answer, he kept plugging away eventually achieving his dream at the age of like 15! It made me think of my own kids and their dreams. I am 18 yrs into this parenting thing and with my first born, I feel like there just wasn’t enough time. I “NEVER” thought I would be here, 4 months away from my son’s high school graduation and on to pursuing his ultimate dream of becoming a big time soccer player. I cherished tonight, sitting next to my daughter (although she sat so far on the other side of the chair, closer to her friend but that’s ok) and I thought to myself, only 6 more years and I will be once again thinking where did all the time go?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;color: #261a11; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 15px 10px; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;&quot;&gt;I also thought about all the “Nevers” in our lives. People said we would never make it as husband and wife and here we are 2 months from celebrating our 19th year. I thought I would never make it through a 17 month deployment but I did…all while raising two kids, volunteering at school, making a walkway in the backyard through the grass and (with the help of friends and family) building a play house for my daughter. My eye twitched nearly the whole time that he was gone mind you, but I made it! I never thought I could make it through beauty school, I thought I wasn’t smart enough or that I didn’t have it in me. There I was every Friday, exam day, receiving 98% on nearly every one I took! When I didn’t score nearly 100%, I studied harder for the next one. Amazing coming from someone that took every chance she had to cut class in high school!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;color: #261a11; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 15px 10px; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;&quot;&gt;So basically the moral of the movie is to “Never say Never” which I am sure you figured that out by now. Never say you can’t be who you wanna be, love who you wanna love, achieve what you want to achieve. And NEVER, EVER, until you have a pre-teen of your very own, say you’ll never fall in love with the latest teen idol sensation…cuz you just NEVER know!&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/6833723629668401899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/05/never-say-never-from-previous-entry-feb.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/6833723629668401899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/6833723629668401899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/05/never-say-never-from-previous-entry-feb.html' title='&quot;Never say Never&quot; from a previous entry Feb 12th, 2011'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2691874049781308113.post-568202846814661142</id><published>2011-05-10T00:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T00:50:45.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don&#39;t judge a book by it&#39;s look..and appreciate your loved ones</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;So, my mom, my&amp;nbsp;Grammie and I decided that we would try our new business out at Denios Farmers market.....during the Mother&#39;s Day weekend. Who needs a fancy brunch with a hefty price tag and a stomach only big enough for one trip anyway, right? Well, not exactly. The first day felt like a total bust and I went home with a headache, nausea and completely exhausted. I also had only operated on 3.5 hrs of sleep and not enough nourishment or hydration...pretty foolish. While driving home with tears in my eyes, I told myself what failures we were and how much of a waste it was to spend our holiday weekend in a dirty flea-market. I kept thinking what a joke we are, our stuff is not marketable, who are we kidding??l&amp;nbsp;I am a little off track here since my posting is about the people selling next to us not about the fact that we thought it was a great idea to forgo relaxation for our failing business.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;So about the sellers next to us. I thought perhaps they were friendly at first, after all they were gonna give us a stuffed dog to use in&amp;nbsp;our doggie tote for the display-we insisted on paying for it of course, but the point is they offered. After that I felt blank stares and dirty looks and decided to take it personally. I kept telling my mom that I thought they were rude and stuck up and that the vibe was awkward. I did notice that a few of them were going through items as if they hadn&#39;t seen them before. Examining them even putting&amp;nbsp;some items in their cars. I thought perhaps they had purchased a container or a&amp;nbsp;storage unit and as they were selling they were finding things they wanted to keep. It was none of our&amp;nbsp;business but while we were twiddling our thumbs waiting for a customer, it gave&amp;nbsp;us something to discuss and&amp;nbsp;we are ( I am sure it is very obvious at this point) a very nosey family! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;I woke up the next day feeling like a train had hit me and I was very tired but I mustered up the strength to get ready to face another day at Denios with very low hopes for profit or exposure and zero energy. We arrived a little late and our neighbors on both sides were parked in such a way that we had to wake up the driver on one side to temporarily move and then our best friends on the other side seemed to be really ticked off that we pulled in. She sped off with a Cruella Diville scowl&amp;nbsp;to take their car to the parking lot. I remember thinking, &quot;gosh what a bitch&quot; as she drove off. They immediately gained a massive amount&amp;nbsp;of interest too, marking everything down to&amp;nbsp;2 for $1 with an exception of some select items. I&amp;nbsp;felt jealous (embarrassing as that is to admit) and at one point I even said &quot;good&quot; to my Mom after she told me they were leaving. I thought it was quiet enough but after all the dirty looks I thought I had received all weekend, I didn&#39;t care if it wasn&#39;t.&amp;nbsp;My mom was very interested in their items, chairs that appeared to be vintage and a couple of wool blankets. I, on&amp;nbsp;the other hand, was not going to buy anything from them no matter how great their things may have been or the amount&amp;nbsp;of people swarming around googling at their treasures.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia;&quot;&gt;My mom ended up buying the blankets at the end of the day from what she learned was the daughter of the original owner of those wool blankets. She was the one that I saw examining every piece of clothing, jewelry she came across even grabbing some things and slipping them back into the car to keep for herself. She told my mom that her mom had died on Wednesday, just 3 days prior&amp;nbsp;at the very young age of 64 and these were all of&amp;nbsp;her belongings. She&amp;nbsp;also told my mom that she wanted the wool blankets to go to someone who would love them. She said she was the closest to her mom&amp;nbsp; and that she would have wanted them to do this. Turned out she was a very sweet lady and the dirty looks and awkwardness I thought I felt was&amp;nbsp;actually them&amp;nbsp;mourning the loss of their mother.&amp;nbsp; I felt like a terrible person, rude, judgemental and selfish. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I was the one with the bad attitude and I was doing what my&amp;nbsp;mama always told me not to, Don&#39;t judge a book by it&#39;s look (or cover). It&#39;s nearly Tuesday and I still feel very guilty for the way I acted. They&amp;nbsp;offered us what was left in their stash because they were trying to get out of there early which made me feel even worse.&amp;nbsp;She explained that she wanted to hurry home to Sebastapool to&amp;nbsp;her kids, 15, 6 and 4 who missed her very much, it was after all, Mother&#39;s Day and she had been gone all week. I can&#39;t even imagine how it must have felt to be selling&amp;nbsp; your deceased mother&#39;s stuff on that day. There were 4 or 5 siblings there selling and periodically they&#39;d hug&amp;nbsp;each other from behind, big bear hugs. I remember thinking how sweet that was. While they were hugging and being sweet, we were bickering with my Grammie, my Mom&#39;s mom about her noseyness. We&amp;nbsp;snapped at her that we had no idea why the people a few stalls up hadn&#39;t set up and &quot;Oh my God, why did she care anyway?&quot; They stared at us, which pissed me off even more, but now I knew why they were watching us argue. They were probably thinking&amp;nbsp;that&amp;nbsp;we should appreciate each other&amp;nbsp;more because we could be in their shoes someday very soon. Maybe they&amp;nbsp;saw themselves in our interaction with Grammie on the other hand, they could have been feeling guilty for doing the very same thing to their mom. The daughter that was the closest to her mother did explain that she didn&#39;t get a lot of visitors and that a few of them lived out of state. So, maybe we didn&#39;t make a ton of money this weekend and I walked away feeling beat up and unsuccessful.&amp;nbsp;I can say that&amp;nbsp;I learned such a valuable lesson from total strangers. Not to judge people, you&amp;nbsp;don&#39;t know the burden they&#39;re carrying&amp;nbsp;and to appreciate the loved ones in your life, because&amp;nbsp;you&amp;nbsp;don&#39;t know just how long you will have them next to you to do so.&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/feeds/568202846814661142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/05/dont-judge-book-by-its-lookand.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/568202846814661142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2691874049781308113/posts/default/568202846814661142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jenalouise.blogspot.com/2011/05/dont-judge-book-by-its-lookand.html' title='Don&#39;t judge a book by it&#39;s look..and appreciate your loved ones'/><author><name>jld</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15509711647281745617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF61QGcWnt08X1RTvjoKgY9zQ1VSdaARM8D352hFnh-6wuL1cCz5fZBJxHaCgTiIydwbi9RPZrlHFeTuR80wPD0ocvoS5yvfIgjMHg5n0TI5fU2corFRQ4xcdHKpdtEQ/s220/penguin+giggle.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>