<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?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" gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMESXYyfyp7ImA9WhVUFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788</id><updated>2012-05-21T16:50:08.897-04:00</updated><title>Keeping My Words</title><subtitle type="html">My OneWord entries</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>281</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/Keeping-My-Words" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="keeping-my-words" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMGQX06cCp7ImA9WhVUEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-3682434453462204382</id><published>2012-05-16T15:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-16T15:27:00.318-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-16T15:27:00.318-04:00</app:edited><title>Engine</title><summary>
Engine

The one that could of course.

Also my car engine. My first car. I remember looking at it and wishing I knew what everything was and how it worked. I can do basic stuff.... check oil, window washing fluid... other fluids.... check the air in tires... what's left... pump gas ;) That's about it for my car mechanical expertise!</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/3682434453462204382/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/engine.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/3682434453462204382?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/3682434453462204382?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/engine.html" title="Engine" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8HRn8zfSp7ImA9WhVUEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-8706981310064612537</id><published>2012-05-14T15:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-14T18:33:57.185-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-14T18:33:57.185-04:00</app:edited><title>Disregard</title><summary>Disregard

I'm wondering if I should disregard someone's request. Well, that's not up to them actually... what's done is done. I'm wondering if I should LIE to cover up that things aren't how they want.

I told them I was going to change my plans. They didn't like that, but it was already done. Too late. So I'm wondering if I should avoid them so they don't have to know, or say "My plans changed </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/8706981310064612537/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/disregard.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/8706981310064612537?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/8706981310064612537?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/disregard.html" title="Disregard" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08EQXw6eyp7ImA9WhVVGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-6277228399416377476</id><published>2012-05-12T15:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-12T15:10:00.213-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-12T15:10:00.213-04:00</app:edited><title>Luggage</title><summary>luggage

Weird. Someone just told me there was talk of charging for carry on luggage. I've heard this before. It'll probably happen. They got all panicked. I may have to start traveling with no luggage and/or sending things by mail. How stupid.

I wish trains were cheaper. I'd totally do Amtrak instead - HAPPILY - but I'd need a sleeper car for long trips and that makes it cost prohibitive. No </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/6277228399416377476/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/luggage.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/6277228399416377476?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/6277228399416377476?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/luggage.html" title="Luggage" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYFQng_cCp7ImA9WhVVF0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-5541929053799353621</id><published>2012-05-11T15:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-11T18:58:33.648-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-11T18:58:33.648-04:00</app:edited><title>Primitive</title><summary>Primitive

brain

emotions

I wonder if primitive humans had emotions like ours? Did they get as distressed? Distraught? Did they get as happy? Excited? Did they form friendships? Bonds? Did they love the way we do? Both romantic and non? Did they plan? Anticipate? Did they wonder about death and worry about loss? How did they feel? Was it similar to how we feel today? Was it similar to how some </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/5541929053799353621/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/primitive.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/5541929053799353621?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/5541929053799353621?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/primitive.html" title="Primitive" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIAQX0yfSp7ImA9WhVVFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-8033857646021023958</id><published>2012-05-10T15:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-10T15:19:00.395-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-10T15:19:00.395-04:00</app:edited><title>Outgoing</title><summary>Outgoing

Most people think I'm that. I guess I just see meeting people differently than others. They're a person, I'm a person... unless I see a reason to not treat them like a person, I will. If they seem un-human in some way, then maybe I won't. Or maybe I'll approach them anyway just because I'm curious...</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/8033857646021023958/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/outgoing.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/8033857646021023958?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/8033857646021023958?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/outgoing.html" title="Outgoing" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUCQXc_cCp7ImA9WhVVFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-5711307023304631613</id><published>2012-05-08T15:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-08T17:24:20.948-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-08T17:24:20.948-04:00</app:edited><title>Tasting</title><summary>Tasting

I once went to a chocolate tasting event. Happened out of nowhere. I was in a mall and struck up a conversation with a woman in the food court. She told me there was a chocolate tasting event at the mall that day. It was cheap. Maybe $5 or $10? And you got little boxes of chocolates from various vendors.  - I was so there! My new friend and I had a very nice time :)</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/5711307023304631613/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/tasting.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/5711307023304631613?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/5711307023304631613?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/tasting.html" title="Tasting" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4MQX8-eip7ImA9WhVVEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-64329236117818111</id><published>2012-05-05T15:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-05T15:43:00.152-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-05T15:43:00.152-04:00</app:edited><title>Upright</title><summary>
Upright

Haven't been doing a lot of that recently. Ok... before you get the wrong idea ;)

I've been lying down a lot. A LOT. The first few days I may have had the start of a flu. Hard to know. I wasn't sleeping well, the temperature outside and in was much hotter than I'm used to, the air conditioning wasn't on, and that could be what I was feeling. Now flu-ish symptoms have gone, the AC is on</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/64329236117818111/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/upright.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/64329236117818111?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/64329236117818111?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/upright.html" title="Upright" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QMQXs8fCp7ImA9WhVWGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-2916235653093495266</id><published>2012-05-01T15:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-05-01T15:43:00.574-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-01T15:43:00.574-04:00</app:edited><title>Hallowed</title><summary>
Hallowed

Funny... I thought "Hallowed be thy name" but I was also picturing the Geddysburg address.

"...we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead who have struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract."

I memorized the whole thing when I was about ten. My choice. I did it as a memory exercise. I did </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/2916235653093495266/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/hallowed.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/2916235653093495266?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/2916235653093495266?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/05/hallowed.html" title="Hallowed" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkECSHc-eCp7ImA9WhVWFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-3364322228673372154</id><published>2012-04-28T14:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-28T14:44:29.950-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-28T14:44:29.950-04:00</app:edited><title>Balloons</title><summary>Balloons

Why do I think I saw this already? I don't think I wrote on it. I think I imagined it. OH! I KNOW!!! There's a themed "summer movie" series near me. I was thinking earlier today that a great theme would be films with "Balloons!" Wow. Coincidence :)

Ok, for a quick blurb...

I make balloon animals. I deliberately learned how to make 1-balloon animals when I was younger, instead of </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/3364322228673372154/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/balloons.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/3364322228673372154?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/3364322228673372154?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/balloons.html" title="Balloons" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEGQX07fCp7ImA9WhVWFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-7522536826615512893</id><published>2012-04-27T15:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-27T15:07:00.304-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-27T15:07:00.304-04:00</app:edited><title>Poster</title><summary>Poster

When I was younger, to enter my bedroom, there was a hallway (about 8 feet long), and then the space opened up into a room. I put theatre and movie posters up in the hallway, and used to pretend it was an alley in a city.</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/7522536826615512893/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/poster.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/7522536826615512893?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/7522536826615512893?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/poster.html" title="Poster" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0AHQn08eCp7ImA9WhVWEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-8991106399140524776</id><published>2012-04-22T15:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-23T20:02:13.370-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-23T20:02:13.370-04:00</app:edited><title>Sound</title><summary>Sound

I would hate to not be able to hear the sound of voices I love. I wouldn't mind not hearing some other sounds though. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to filter things like that? Filter certain decibels or words or voices or... jackhammers!

I wonder how we'd be, as people, if we could pick and choose what to hear - literally. Maybe it's the bad that makes the good so much better, or the </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/8991106399140524776/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/sound.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/8991106399140524776?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/8991106399140524776?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/sound.html" title="Sound" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08NQH8yeSp7ImA9WhVWEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-5998336536792323544</id><published>2012-04-21T18:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-21T18:04:51.191-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-21T18:04:51.191-04:00</app:edited><title>Swan</title><summary>Swan

Some people look good when they're dressed up. I have some friends who don't. The clothes don't fit them right, the makeup is a bit off... They DO look how "grown ups" are supposed to look, so it works in that regard, and they look "right" in that way, but they'd actually look more professional, more put together, and more "with it" in their non-work clothes. Because those fit them better. </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/5998336536792323544/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/swan.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/5998336536792323544?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/5998336536792323544?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/swan.html" title="Swan" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YMRX4_fyp7ImA9WhVXGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-3075794984699090081</id><published>2012-04-20T17:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-20T17:59:44.047-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-20T17:59:44.047-04:00</app:edited><title>Slight</title><summary>Slight

Of hand.

Not something I was ever good at. Maybe my hands were too small when I started (though plenty of children are very good at it.) Now if I tried I'd probably fumble at times, so it may be best that was never my forte. Heck it was never my anything! Self working tricks always worked best for me. I had lots of those.</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/3075794984699090081/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/slight.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/3075794984699090081?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/3075794984699090081?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/slight.html" title="Slight" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4MSX88fyp7ImA9WhVXGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-7272207149087464803</id><published>2012-04-19T17:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-19T17:29:48.177-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-19T17:29:48.177-04:00</app:edited><title>Sunglasses</title><summary>Sunglasses

I have a lot of difficulty with these. Most sunglasses distort my view too much so I'm not comfortable wearing them. There was one brand I loved. I could see great out of them. Better than without! They cost $50-$80 each, but they were worth it to me. I don't lose my sunglasses. Mine often last 3-5 years before they break. Eventually that company changed hands and their glasses </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/7272207149087464803/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/sunglasses.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/7272207149087464803?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/7272207149087464803?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/sunglasses.html" title="Sunglasses" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIDQn8yeSp7ImA9WhVXF0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-118983056372146360</id><published>2012-04-18T15:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-18T15:16:13.191-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-18T15:16:13.191-04:00</app:edited><title>Earring (II)</title><summary>Well this makes sense. Most people do have two earrings after all ;)

I have a couple of ear cuffs too. I like them, but they hurt. Kind of in a Princess and the Pea sort of way. I don't know why they hurt but that little bit of pressure on the cartilage gives me a big headache. No matter how loose I make them. I have trouble with stiff bracelets and watches too. No matter how loose, if they're </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/118983056372146360/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/earring-ii.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/118983056372146360?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/118983056372146360?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/earring-ii.html" title="Earring (II)" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMEQ34_cCp7ImA9WhVXF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-6411209264208140436</id><published>2012-04-17T14:51:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-18T01:53:22.048-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-18T01:53:22.048-04:00</app:edited><title>Earring</title><summary>Earring

I have pierced ears. Always had them. My parents felt the need to put a couple of extra holes in my head when I was about four years old.

I remember getting some really cute Snoopy earrings once from Charles Shultze's skating rink. They infected my ears like nobody's business! Red, scaley... 

In retrospect, it think I was allergic to them, and then my ears got infected. My earlobes </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/6411209264208140436/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/earring.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/6411209264208140436?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/6411209264208140436?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/earring.html" title="Earring" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUAQXw4fip7ImA9WhVXFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-2657035928533745114</id><published>2012-04-16T17:04:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-16T17:04:00.236-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-16T17:04:00.236-04:00</app:edited><title>Desk</title><summary>Desk

Elementary school and four desks put together. I remember a teacher asking us what our first through fourth choices would be for who we'd want in our group. I was always worried I'd end up with people I didn't like, but every time, I loved my group of four. I think everybody was happy with their seating assignments. I don't remember any of us looking at another table and pining for friends </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/2657035928533745114/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/desk.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/2657035928533745114?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/2657035928533745114?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/desk.html" title="Desk" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QMQX4ycCp7ImA9WhVXFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-747435195597130648</id><published>2012-04-15T14:43:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-15T14:43:00.098-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-15T14:43:00.098-04:00</app:edited><title>Entice</title><summary>Entice

Entice makes me think of a deliberate action from another, with an intent to manipulate a specific outcome. 

There is no "other" swaying my reason right now. There's just me. Nevertheless, I'm being pulled and swayed towards a set of decisions that might not be best in the long run. Decisions swayed by emotion rather than reason or logic. I think that must be bad. Or maybe it's not. It's</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/747435195597130648/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/entice.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/747435195597130648?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/747435195597130648?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/entice.html" title="Entice" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUAMQX84eip7ImA9WhVXE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-9027543753153516510</id><published>2012-04-13T15:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-13T15:03:00.132-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-13T15:03:00.132-04:00</app:edited><title>Nourish</title><summary>Nourish

I'm thinking evil villains.

That's what they always say when they're being evil and they're about to eat you! I almost never hear this word in a good or healthy context. I'm thinking Stephen King clown eating children in the sewers, and alien entities that prey upon hapless ships lost in space...

What the heck happened to this word??! ;)</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/9027543753153516510/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/nourish.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/9027543753153516510?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/9027543753153516510?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/nourish.html" title="Nourish" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMCQH8-fCp7ImA9WhVXEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-3523766009711953846</id><published>2012-04-12T15:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-12T15:04:21.154-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-12T15:04:21.154-04:00</app:edited><title>Bitten</title><summary>Bitten

Would I want to be a vampire...

No.

I'm not sure I'd be cracked up for immortality. I have enough difficulty with a mortal life. Immortal doesn't mean rich and comfortable. That might be more appealing. Possibly. But having to live off others' blood? No. It might be ok sometimes, but to HAVE to live off that? Ew. Not interested. And sunlight and stakes seem like an awful way to go.</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/3523766009711953846/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/bitten.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/3523766009711953846?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/3523766009711953846?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/bitten.html" title="Bitten" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUECSHw9eyp7ImA9WhVXEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-5583704603736455293</id><published>2012-04-11T15:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-11T15:47:49.263-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-11T15:47:49.263-04:00</app:edited><title>Puddle</title><summary>Puddle

I was away at school once. All the kids seemed nervous around me. Our accents were very different. I wasn't from around there. Everyone was friendly, but polite. There was a guy there from out of town too, and he was fitting in great. I don't think it takes guys long to size up one another. Girls watch. A lot. Guys jump right in.

One day a group of girls and I were walking back from </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/5583704603736455293/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/puddle.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/5583704603736455293?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/5583704603736455293?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/puddle.html" title="Puddle" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEDQXw6fyp7ImA9WhVXEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-2984945416958466770</id><published>2012-04-10T15:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-10T15:54:30.217-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-10T15:54:30.217-04:00</app:edited><title>Pins (II)</title><summary>Second thought:

♫ "Saltpeter..." 

"Pins!" ♫ 

(1776)

* It's a musical reference. - Again ;)</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/2984945416958466770/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/pins-ii.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/2984945416958466770?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/2984945416958466770?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/pins-ii.html" title="Pins (II)" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIFRX8_eSp7ImA9WhVXEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-6058080204137402398</id><published>2012-04-10T15:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-10T15:51:54.141-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-10T15:51:54.141-04:00</app:edited><title>Pins</title><summary>Pins

I'm thinking of Home Ec again...

How many kids won't know which direction pins should face when they sew with a machine? 

- How many kids will even sew with a machine? 

It's a disposable time. Something breaks or stains, get a new one. If it's something very nice, pay someone else to fix it. 

I wonder if there'll be a time when that's reversed again. When people will be more self </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/6058080204137402398/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/pins.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/6058080204137402398?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/6058080204137402398?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/pins.html" title="Pins" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYCQXw7eCp7ImA9WhVQGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-2211338706636974223</id><published>2012-04-08T12:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-08T12:56:00.200-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-08T12:56:00.200-04:00</app:edited><title>Ruby</title><summary>Ruby

The wife of a man I cared a great deal about. The first time we met, when it was time to say our goodbyes, she hugged me, and I have to say it was the greatest hug I'd ever received. I have no idea why. But I remember being so thankful in that moment, and so thrilled, that the woman who gave the greatest hugs in the world was married to a man I cared about. "He gets to feel this every </summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/2211338706636974223/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/ruby.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/2211338706636974223?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/2211338706636974223?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/ruby.html" title="Ruby" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08EQXo7fSp7ImA9WhVQFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8877972340643693788.post-4796322827619104858</id><published>2012-04-05T14:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-05T14:50:00.405-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-05T14:50:00.405-04:00</app:edited><title>Hood</title><summary>Hood

Robin

The Disney cartoon is the one that comes to mind. How good looking was that Robin Hood? Amazing what they can convey with good animation. What I remembered most, though, was the kid character who idolized him. Like a "Thumper." I wonder how many other kids remembered that character above all else?</summary><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/feeds/4796322827619104858/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/hood.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/4796322827619104858?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8877972340643693788/posts/default/4796322827619104858?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://keeping-my-words.blogspot.com/2012/04/hood.html" title="Hood" /><author><name>Noisy Quiet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15127095448807063093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>

