<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="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" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Thu, 31 Jul 2025 08:59:17 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>random</category><category>baby blatherings</category><category>weekend</category><category>theater</category><category>holidays</category><category>The August Break</category><category>weather</category><category>dogs</category><category>friends</category><category>television</category><category>blogger</category><category>31 for 21</category><category>Jane says</category><category>reverb10</category><category>NaBloPoMo</category><category>reverb11</category><category>politics</category><category>Scintilla</category><category>family</category><category>movies</category><category>work</category><category>vacation</category><category>books</category><category>me</category><category>school days</category><category>boat</category><category>good stuff fridays</category><category>celebrities</category><category>food</category><category>music</category><category>100 things</category><category>30 days of thanks</category><category>birthday</category><category>nyc</category><category>kindergarten</category><category>health</category><category>project: small joys</category><category>blogging</category><category>summer</category><category>writing</category><category>Guest post</category><category>fall</category><category>religion</category><category>things I love</category><category>travel</category><category>I am ridiculous</category><category>IMHO</category><category>Instagram</category><category>The Girl Effect</category><category>bugs</category><category>computers</category><category>diet</category><category>exercise</category><category>good stuff</category><category>hiatus</category><category>language</category><category>links</category><category>pop culture</category><category>theat</category><title>Me, my dogs, my life.</title><description>Let&#39;s hug it out, bitch.</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1071</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-2320262714843509621</guid><pubDate>Wed, 27 Mar 2013 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-27T17:00:03.278-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Scintilla</category><title>scintilla: day 10 </title><description>

&lt;br /&gt;
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OK, friends. This is the last day of&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt; Scintilla&lt;/a&gt;! I know I’ve
missed a few days, but overall I think I did pretty well, especially with all
the craziness in my life right now. Hope you’ve enjoyed reading. The final
prompt I’m answering is this:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Tell the story of how
you got the thing you are going to keep forever. Include an image in your post,
if you can.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;
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So, as always, I’m not really answering this question in the
way it was intended, but when I read it, the first thing I thought of was of a
pair of photographs. &lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXuwi8ojn_Hq7FEkROaVP10FR68w6vQW3wqlk_usv-4FifFdQ7R1uQFxBs2tW8Ey0FBEi15hZuE4SjMeOjjuRJLsOugCa9Woj1KCsnHxE_9UYJf-fUUQITLzUHMIkxCNe-DgWP/s1600/photo3.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXuwi8ojn_Hq7FEkROaVP10FR68w6vQW3wqlk_usv-4FifFdQ7R1uQFxBs2tW8Ey0FBEi15hZuE4SjMeOjjuRJLsOugCa9Woj1KCsnHxE_9UYJf-fUUQITLzUHMIkxCNe-DgWP/s320/photo3.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
As you know, my father died unexpectedly when I was 26.
After a tremendously shocking, sad, and overwhelming day with my family (that
began with a life-changing phone call at 4:30 a.m.), I went home to my
apartment, more or less a wrung-out empty shell of a human. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;
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That night, I dug through my stuff and found a picture of me
and my dad that had been taken maybe two years before. I found an old frame and
inserted the picture. I found another photo of my whole family that had been
taken five years prior. That went in the other side of the frame. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I have not changed the (decidedly not fancy) frame or photos
since, and I never will. Those pictures have been on display everywhere I’ve
lived since early 2000, and they always will be. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;
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Miss you, Dad. Forever. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/scintilla-day-10.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXuwi8ojn_Hq7FEkROaVP10FR68w6vQW3wqlk_usv-4FifFdQ7R1uQFxBs2tW8Ey0FBEi15hZuE4SjMeOjjuRJLsOugCa9Woj1KCsnHxE_9UYJf-fUUQITLzUHMIkxCNe-DgWP/s72-c/photo3.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-5977962788431384202</guid><pubDate>Mon, 25 Mar 2013 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-25T17:00:00.454-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">friends</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Scintilla</category><title>scintilla: day 9</title><description>&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;Today’s &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Scintilla&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;
prompt asks: Post a photo of yourself from before age 10. Write about what you
remember of the day the photo was taken. It may not be a full story – it may
just be flashes of event and emotion – but tap into the child you were as much
as you can.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/em&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/AVvXsEi3MbOWXJmnLZ47DG5Cjnme7nn_CXpfaLI88foeYuFluOlaipZKDltx3xiWZan3qzMkvYWIQ7LrCCo1R0ufAKn0O3lyehCIbzOVRbB3EGedTPjlsmFSXMNTkXiplXXk6KWttHfD/s1600/photo1.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3MbOWXJmnLZ47DG5Cjnme7nn_CXpfaLI88foeYuFluOlaipZKDltx3xiWZan3qzMkvYWIQ7LrCCo1R0ufAKn0O3lyehCIbzOVRbB3EGedTPjlsmFSXMNTkXiplXXk6KWttHfD/s320/photo1.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is a photo that hangs on my refrigerator door. I think
this was the first day of school when I was entering fifth grade, so I was 9
going on 10 – that’s me in the back with my head turned and my eyes shut. Next
to me (on my left) is my best friend Heather, and the boy in front with blonde
hair is my brother. The girl directly in front of me is Heather’s sister Shelly
– the one I go on beach vacations with in the summer these days. Next to
Heather is her brother Mark, and next to him is our friend Paul, who I’ve known
since I was basically a fetus. I believe the yellow Garfield lunchbox is mine.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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Yes, we look like a bunch of early-80s nerds, to be sure. It’s
so funny to look at this and see that I am the tallest one – little did I know
that I only had about two years left of growing to do. Fifth grade turned out to
be the year I got glasses, so it’s probably just as well my eyes were closed;
everything was most likely blurry anyway. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I don’t remember a lot &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;or anything,
really – about that particular first day of school. But what I love the very
most about this picture is I’m still super-close to everyone in it (except the
two girls on the right – not sure what happened to them, as they moved away a
couple of years later). I’ve beaten this drum before, and I will continue to beat
it - one of the greatest gifts of my life is the fact that I have so many
friendships that have endured over 30 years, and I’m so thankful for that.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/scintilla-day-9.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3MbOWXJmnLZ47DG5Cjnme7nn_CXpfaLI88foeYuFluOlaipZKDltx3xiWZan3qzMkvYWIQ7LrCCo1R0ufAKn0O3lyehCIbzOVRbB3EGedTPjlsmFSXMNTkXiplXXk6KWttHfD/s72-c/photo1.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-7752251907013599941</guid><pubDate>Fri, 22 Mar 2013 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-22T17:00:03.140-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">school days</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Scintilla</category><title>scintilla: day 8</title><description>

&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;Today’s &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt;Scintilla&lt;/a&gt;
prompt asks: Sometimes we wish we could hit the rewind button. Talk about an
experience that you would do over if you could.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
My first semester of college was away from home. I lived in
a dorm, gained the Freshman Fifteen, etc., etc. During my first semester,
however, I decided to change my major (this would not be the last time) to
secondary education so I could be a high school English teacher. The best
school in my state for that degree happened to be 20 minutes from my house. So
I transferred, and commuted from home. I was paying for college myself, and it
made no sense at the time to take out loans and get into debut so I could live
in a dorm so close to home. I regret that now. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;
My school was a good one – and in fact, I currently work
very close by, which is extremely weird, especially when I see all of the
students who look to me to be about Jane’s age – and I did have a lot of fun,
and walked out of there with a BA in English. But I think I missed out on
something important by not living away from my parents for those four (OK, five
– like I said, I liked to change majors) years. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;
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I want Jane’s future to be whatever she wants it to be. But
I feel very strongly that she go to school away from home. Sure, it will be
tragic and sad and I will hang on to her as she walks out the door. But still,
that is something I want very much for her. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/scintilla-day-8.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-7420749366145955310</guid><pubDate>Thu, 21 Mar 2013 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-21T17:00:03.144-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Scintilla</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">theater</category><title>scintilla: day 7</title><description>

&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;Here’s today’s&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt;Scintilla&lt;/a&gt; prompt: What is the longest thing you know by heart (for example, a
prayer, a speech, commercial jingle, etc)? Why did you learn it?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
When I am in a show, the thing I hear the most from people
who come see it,is “I don’t know how you memorize those lines. I would never be
able to do that!” &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


This is not true, of course. I maintain that anyone could
memorize lines, as long as they don’t mind spending a few weeks glued to a
script, begging the unfortunate souls who live or are friends with you to run
lines, and don’t mind if people think you’re a lunatic because you’re
constantly talking to yourself…running lines in the car…running lines walking
down the street…running lines in the shower…all the time. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


Or, at least that’s how I do it. Other people have different techniques.&amp;nbsp;I have found the older I
get, it takes a little more time to memorize lines. I think that’s because I
have way more distractions in my life than I used to. Or my brain is melting.
Or a combination of both.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;So I just
practice more. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


I think the longest monologue I have had in a play is from
Neil Simon’s Jake’s Women, in which I
played Jake’s rather spazzy sister. This was not a show experience I
particularly enjoyed (for many reasons), but I do remember getting a certain
amount of joy while laying into him with this rant:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;em&gt;Why is it whenever I
try to help you, you push me away? You&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;re that way with &lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;all &lt;/span&gt;women. You&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;re
so &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;—
&lt;/span&gt;so &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;— &lt;/span&gt;standoffish. What you love is to &lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;women. You love to have women in
love with you. You even love to love women who love you because you&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;re
standoffish. But intimacy, aha, &lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;you&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;re
afraid of. I said, &quot;Aha, &lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;you&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;re
afraid of.&quot; I think you&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;re afraid to lose
control in a relationship with a woman. To let a woman in so close, so deep
inside of you, that she&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;ll gobble you up
and you&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;ll
lose whatever you think you are. You always have to be the Master, Jake. The
Master, the Conductor, the Director and the Attorney General. You don&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;t
think it&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;s strange that you sit around here
thinking about women and making up what they say to you? And then you think up
that &lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;we &lt;/span&gt;make up that we come
over here on our own? Come on! How much more control do you want? &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;...
&lt;/span&gt;They love you, they leave you, they come back to you, they worry about
you, they die, they live, they grow up, the fall down, they fight for you, they
cry for you &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;— &lt;/span&gt;it&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;s a three ring
circus in here and all the horses and lions and elephants are women &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;...
&lt;/span&gt;You&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;re the star of the show, Jake. You&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;re
the one they shoot out of a cannon and you fly around the tent with an American
flag in your mouth and all the women go crazy and faint and&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;they take them away to
hospitals &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;... &lt;/span&gt;The trouble is &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;— &lt;/span&gt;it&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;s
very hard to get close to a man who&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;s flying around
in a tent with a flag in his mouth. That&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;WP MultinationalA Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;s what I call
trouble with intimacy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


That part was fun. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;


Lines stick in your head, even years later. Not full
speeches like the one above; no, if I wanted to recite that right now, I’d have
to spend some time with it again. But, like with movie quotes for other people,
quotes from plays and musicals surface in my daily conversation all the time,
and bring with them memories, good and bad, from my very favorite hobby. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/scintilla-day-7.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-7049119084084071168</guid><pubDate>Wed, 20 Mar 2013 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-20T17:32:27.991-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">food</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Scintilla</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">summer</category><title>scintilla: day 6</title><description>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Today’s &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Scintilla&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; prompt goes like this: Many of our fondest
memories are associated with food. Describe a memorable experience that took
place while preparing or eating food.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Today is the first day of spring. On this, the first day of
spring, it is 34 degrees where I am right now. There is snow on the ground from
yesterday’s storm. My back aches from slipping and falling on the ice last
night. I am wearing a sweater dress and boots for the umpteenth time over the
past five months, which have been long, arduous, and freezing fucking cold. You
can see the desperation for a little warm weather on everyone’s faces. We all
look a little grey, a little sad, and a little dead. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
There is a place in Westbrook, CT called &lt;a href=&quot;http://billsseafood.com/&quot;&gt;Bill’s Seafood&lt;/a&gt;. In
the summer, when we’re at the boat or visiting my in-laws, we will often go
there. When I think of Bill’s, which I was doing just this morning, these are
the things that pop into my mind:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
*hot summer sun&lt;br /&gt;
*lobster rolls dripping with butter, with a heaping side of fries&lt;br /&gt;
*Styrofoam containers filled with steamers&lt;br /&gt;
*loud live&amp;nbsp;music&lt;br /&gt;
*a packed deck with people drinking and looking at the boats going by&lt;br /&gt;
*weekends&lt;br /&gt;
*my family&lt;br /&gt;
*shorts, sunburns, and laughter&lt;br /&gt;
*hitting the ice cream stand next door as we leave&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
I can’t think of a better recipe for happiness.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;(Note: writing this post put a lump in my throat. That is how badly I need summer to get here.)&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/scintilla-day-6.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-1641282571568608329</guid><pubDate>Tue, 19 Mar 2013 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-19T17:16:41.427-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Scintilla</category><title>scintilla: day 5</title><description>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;I am answering this &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Scintilla&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; prompt today: What have been the event horizons of your life - the moments from which there is no turning back?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
These
days, I have no time to ponder things for more than about 30 seconds. I truly wish I had more time to really think about my posts, but between work,&amp;nbsp;family and directing a show, it&#39;s tough. OK, excuses time over....when
looking at this question, I can truly say I think there has been only one
moment in my life from which there is no turning back – and that was the
decision to have a child. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Everything
else is fluid - jobs, relationships, hobbies, locations. But the moment I
became a mother changed my identity to a degree that there is no turning back.
No matter what success or joy I find elsewhere in my life, if I’m not a good
mother, I’ve fucked up. I’ve failed. I believe this.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
Scary,
right? This is not something I think about on a day-to-day basis because, hello,
PRESSURE. And I don’t mean that every single moment has to be perfection,
because obviously it is NOT. &amp;nbsp;But the
decisions I make and the examples I set plays a huge role in the shape of Jane’s
life right now – and most certainly in the future. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
And
there’s no turning back from that responsibility. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/scintilla-day-5.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-7225735049510313043</guid><pubDate>Mon, 18 Mar 2013 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-18T17:00:04.470-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Scintilla</category><title>scintilla: day 4</title><description>


&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Prompt:
What talent do you have that your usual blog readers don’t know about? Talk
about a time when you showed it to its best advantage.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;After perusing the past couple of days of &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Scintilla&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;
prompts, I’ve decided to respond to this one today. It’s not my best, but,
well, it’s something:&lt;/em&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;I wouldn’t call it a talent, no. But I can draw
well enough to entertain small children. I used to looooove drawing and
coloring when I was a kid, and one of my specialties were my “Froglets” –
basically cartoony frogs with big eyes and even bigger eyelashes, usually wearing princess dresses.
My artistic talent stalled out by about sixth grade –I would say that’s my
level of ability - but I must say that I truly enjoy sitting down with Jane to
color, which she does non-stop. Something about the quiet activity and the
smell of fresh crayons puts me in a happy place. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;The time this “talent”worked to my advantage in a
big way was a couple of years ago when Greg, Jane and I were driving to New
Jersey to visit friends. While trapped in the everlasting CT-to-NJ traffic snarl,
using one of those Magna Doodle erasable things, I became Jane’s personal
artist, drawing for at least an hour straight as she flung suggestions/demands
at me from the back seat. Dogs, trees, houses, Daddy, rainbows – I did it all.
And when you’re trapped in the car with a fidgety toddler for a three-hour
trip, you thank your lucky stars that you spent all your time in elementary
school with your blank paper, markers and crayons. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;br /&gt;

&lt;em&gt;Note: I&#39;m number the Scintilla days in my post titles by how many days I&#39;ve personally participated. Just keeping track of my own participation.&lt;/em&gt; </description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/scintilla-day-4.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-8029109237280294591</guid><pubDate>Fri, 15 Mar 2013 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-15T17:00:03.057-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Scintilla</category><title>scintilla: day 3</title><description>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
Today’s &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt;Scintilla&lt;/a&gt; prompt goes a little something like this:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Talk about a time when you were driving and you sang in the
car, all alone. Why do you remember this song and that stretch of road?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
First off, let me just say that the great tragedy of my life
is that I have a terrible – truly awful – singing voice. Me! A person who loves
musical theater and is quite sure I would be rather famous at this point were
it not for the fact that I am totally tone deaf. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
That said, I do enjoy singing. Very much. And I can sing the
hell out of any showtune or song on the radio within the confines of my car.
Turn the radio up loud enough and you can’t hear my voice at all, which is really best for everyone.&lt;/div&gt;
As I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, I worked for my parents’
business (Dairy Queen), for many summers over high school and college. I drove
the same 8 miles from our house to DQ thousands of times, I’m sure. Sometimes
in my my mother’s Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, sometimes in my father’s Buick LeSabre, and sometimes in the car my brother and I shared for a couple of years,
a Pontiac Sunbird. Ah yes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
Although during those years I was primarily a fan of rock
music (still am – although not of the hair band variety anymore) I would listen
to pop every now and then. One sunny summer day I was making my way to work in my super-stylish polyester DQ uniform,
singing at the top of my lungs to Wilson Phillips’ “Hold On,” which was quite
the hit back in 1990. As I was singing along – &lt;em&gt;someday somebody’s gonna make you wanna turn around and say
goodbyeeee&lt;/em&gt; - &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;I looked in my rearview
mirror, and to this day, I laugh when I remember what I saw.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
There was a woman singing the same song, totally giving it
her all. Hand gestures and everything. Something about seeing her lips move to
the same song I was playing in my car just seemed hilarious to me – and would
have been a good reminder, had I thought of it,&amp;nbsp;that instead of laughing maybe I should realize that’s
most likely what&lt;em&gt; I&lt;/em&gt; look like to other
people when I’m driving. (This still holds today.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
There’s just something about that song, I guess…..&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&quot;&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;315&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/zOK7ijzywgs&quot; width=&quot;560&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/scintilla-day-3.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/zOK7ijzywgs/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-174222388774352468</guid><pubDate>Thu, 14 Mar 2013 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-14T17:00:05.213-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Scintilla</category><title>scintilla project: day 2</title><description>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
Today’s &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt;Scintilla&lt;/a&gt;
prompt: Tell a story about something interesting (anything!) that happened to
you, but tell it in the form of an instruction manual. (Step 1, Step 2, etc.) &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
How to end up on a PATH train from Manhattan to Hoboken in
bright green fuzzy slippers in 9 easy steps:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;1)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Plan fabulously fun weekend in NYC with your
friends. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;2)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Wear too-high platform sandals, despite the fact
you turn your ankle quite a bit.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;3)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Drink a lot for several hours in a row with said
friends. Fun and frivolity abound. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;4)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Declare that “I’m pretty sure I’m going to fall”
when headed for train. You say this not because you are drunk – you just “have
a feeling.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;5)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Fall ass over teakettle in the middle of New
York City. Snap the strap of your sandal. Laugh your ass off. Piss off your
friend who is really focused on getting to the train. Laugh harder. Because what
else can you do?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;6)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Take cab to station. See a big beautiful Duane
Reade. Tell friends you MUST get a pair of flip flops because it is impossible
to walk in broken sandal and there is no way in hell you are going barefoot.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;7)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Friends head into Duane Reade to look for
footwear. You limp in behind them with another friend, who is photographing
whole event with great amounts of glee.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;8)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Friends say that because it is late October,
there are no flip flops for sale. However, there are slippers. In a bright neon
green variety. You suspect friends might be lying. You don’t really care.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-list: Ignore;&quot;&gt;9)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;After dumping your sandals in a trash bin with
great ceremony, you wear the slippers on the train back to Jersey, secretly
happy because those sandals were uncomfortable anyway. And you know what? Not a
single person looked twice. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoListParagraphCxSpLast&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
I love New York. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/scintilla-project-day-2.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRBO94F9NQ5u3rD415e7Y7HwjHCKmbzmAZQ7evcgbR39qAdSEEb_lmhjFgUBTAOZnsSPY9zosSP1XMpFELlhyphenhyphenALzb5EV8EDQodxoAfuPYoGxipbxJyZM_t5ZdEmKFfuc7gb8G_/s72-c/2012-10-21_00.50.47.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>16</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-5601098318733727692</guid><pubDate>Wed, 13 Mar 2013 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-14T12:50:27.403-04:00</atom:updated><title>scintilla project: day 1 </title><description>&lt;br /&gt;
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DISCLAIMER: Oh you guys. I am so balls to the wall right
now, but I really want to do &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt;Scintilla&lt;/a&gt;, because I love Scintilla and the
awesome people associated with it, so I’m really sorry if my responses aren’t
amazing. I’m just a girl who can’t say no, etc. etc. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Anyway, without further ado, here is the first prompt I will
answer:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;Tell a story set at
your first job.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I am not sure if this means a fictional story set at my
first job, but I first read it as “tell a story about your first job,” so that’s
what I’m going to do.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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My very first paying non-babysitting job was at an after-school
latchkey program. Now, many of you who read this blog know me as a mature,
late-30-something mom. OK, not mature. But the other two things are true. So
you probably figure that I have always loved kids, right? False. The truth is,
I didn’t even want to have a kid of my own until I was in my early 30s, and my interest
in children in general was negative zero when I was 15. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Even now I would say I am a huge fan of my OWN kid, not all
kids in general. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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No, children were not my focus when I was a sophomore in
high school. My friends, however, were. And a few of my friends were working
for this program, so I took my giant-80s-hair-and-acid-washed-jean-jacket-wearing
self down to the YMCA and managed to get myself a job.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I mean, the kids were OK, I guess, but what I remember most
is goofing off with my pals. After school and before we needed to be at work, we
would go to the pharmacy nearby that also had a food counter and get hot dogs
and fries for second lunch (ah, I miss that high school metabolism), gossip
about everyone and everything, and spend our hard-earned money at the mall or
movies on Friday nights. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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The job was mostly terrible (remember – I had no fondness
for watching children, which was, you know, THE JOB), but I miss those times
when working a couple of hours after school bought us a little taste of
independence and freedom (well, freedom to buy the latest Poison, Motley Crue
or Guns n’ Roses tape. Yes, TAPE. And candy. And concert tickets. And cheap-ass
neon t-shirts from Rave. Does anyone remember Rave? Probably not.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
When I pick Jane up at her after-school program and I see
the high school kids who are part of the staff, I sometimes think of that old
job – and secretly hope they like kids just a little bit more than I did. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/scintilla-day-1.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-7447351782455216295</guid><pubDate>Fri, 01 Mar 2013 19:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-03-01T14:00:03.280-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">blogging</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">IMHO</category><title>IMHO, you should check out my new blog. </title><description>Oh, hello.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here&#39;s the deal: I&#39;m collaborating on a &lt;a href=&quot;http://imho3.wordpress.com/&quot;&gt;new blog&lt;/a&gt; with my friends Lisa and Dwayne. Why, you ask? Well, let me post my introduction from my new blog to explain: &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Lisa, who I’ve named President of this Blog, has instructed me to write about why I wanted to do this blogging thing with her and Dwayne. And since she is, as I’ve mentioned, President of the Blog, I will do what she says. The truth is, the reason is because I think they’ll make me look good, because they are super funny and entertaining. And because I was getting very very lazy about posting on my personal blog, but I still want to blog, if that makes any sense. Which is doesn’t. (This will be a theme in my writing, as you will see.) What you will find here is not so much me talking about Jane and my own personal life, but me talking about stuff I like (theater, Downton Abbey, Don Draper, candy), stuff I hate (winter, animated movies, Glee, snow, winter, ice, winter), an overload of pop culture musings (for example: why Johnny Lee Miller is a superior Sherlock Holmes, no matter what Dwayne says), the adventures of turning 40 this year (will it be “40 and Fabulous”? or “40 and I Can’t Believe I’m F*!&amp;amp;ing 40”?) and other such nonsense. The fact is, I have opinions. Many of them. And I get twitchy if I can’t share them. So enjoy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As you know, I&#39;ve become lazy over here. The reason that&#39;s happened is so many of the things going on in my life are really not for public consumption right now. I use this space as a diary of sorts, and I still do, but by eliminating aspects of my life from this space - like Jane&#39;s life (now that I realize it is truly &lt;em&gt;her&lt;/em&gt; life now, not a baby&#39;s life that provided such good blog fodder for five years) and my work life (I&#39;ve NEVER used that for the blog, and never will) I was running out of things to say, you know?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But one thing I absolutely adore is talking abou pop culture, theater, television, books, movies, blah diddy blah blah blah. I&#39;ve done some of that here, but by collaborating with my IRL buddies Dwayne and Lisa, we&#39;ll be able to keep our blog hopping with posts much more on the reg than you&#39;ve seen here lately. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I AM going to keep posting here, by the way. One thing that I am very excited about participating in is&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scintillaproject.com/&quot;&gt; round two of Scintilla&lt;/a&gt;, which I plan on participating in both over here and on the other blog. (Probably mostly here.) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope you&#39;ll join us over on&lt;a href=&quot;http://imho3.wordpress.com/&quot;&gt; IMHO&lt;/a&gt;...I think it&#39;s going to be a lot of fun! Or, at least a lot of snark. </description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/03/imho-you-should-check-out-my-new-blog.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-6510230464548762818</guid><pubDate>Fri, 15 Feb 2013 15:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-02-15T10:17:02.624-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">blogging</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">hiatus</category><title>time out. </title><description>Well hi there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yup, I&#39;m still alive. Looking out the window right now at the melting snow - the foot or two left from the 30+ inches we got last Friday in the Blizzard of 2013. This week has been so weird - work and school was canceled on Friday and Monday, Greg went to California from Tuesday to Thursday, Valentine&#39;s Day happened, I&#39;m heading into hell week for the show I am teching....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m stopping by here today to let you know I&#39;m taking a bit of a hiatus from the blog. I&#39;m just not feeling it right now. I&#39;ll be back...oh yes, I will. And I&#39;m excited about another project in the works. Of course I&#39;m around on Twitter and reading your blogs and lurking about. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have a fabulous weekend! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/02/time-out.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgukjRDPHb-7djs3pl2HIPYnkuew7m-zssxcrLhlEQoo7zP7O4-OBslxdNSycFNjz_B1KlXXPFMknLnGLVSwhJXIxda-Y1sfKW8cvoBjN-Spc-zEUBo12SjePb09iAKOivko-Pn/s72-c/jane+valentine&#39;s+day.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-2786259741648325766</guid><pubDate>Fri, 01 Feb 2013 21:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-02-01T16:30:03.115-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">weekend</category><title>weekend update: holy shit, it&#39;s February edition. </title><description>

&lt;br /&gt;
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Please don’t think I haven’t noticed that the bulk of my
posts so far this year have been weekend updates. I have, believe me. But
unless you want to hear about how much my skin is freaking out this winter (I’m
pretty sure you don’t) or how much I can’t wait for Jane’s school schedule to
normalize next year (oh yeah, I’ve already gone on and on about that) or how
much I loathe the dark cold and can’t wait for summer (ditto ditto ditto), I
really don’t have much else to say. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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In non-redundant news, I’m still recovering from the DRAMA
of last Sunday’s Downton Abbey (OMG), but, you know, I don’t want to spoil it. OH,
and I got the rights to the show I’m directing this spring (You Can’t Take It
With You), so I’m super-psyched about THAT. In weather news this week, it
snowed, rained, was sunny, was nearly 60 degrees, was mega-windy (60 MPH
winds), and was freaking cold. Ah, New England, you crazy lady. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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This upcoming weekend is a busy one. Tonight I’m going to
see a show called Almost, Maine with
my Beth, and I’m super-excited to go see some theater that is not of the
community variety. (No offense, community theater, you know I love you and
all.) We’re going out to dinner before, so basically it’s like a hot date.
Jealous? You should be. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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Tomorrow is stupidly packed. Getting my hair cut in the
morning, thank God, as this whole “growing out my bangs” project is getting a
little ridiculous and I need some guidance how not to look like a jackass every
day of my life. Then I have to bring Jane to a birthday party for one of her
school friends at one of those jump zone places, and then we all go to a
surprise 40th party for another friend of ours. The fact that there
are not one but TWO cake opportunities tomorrow is clearly tomorrow’s
highlight.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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I hear there is some major sporting event on Sunday. We will
celebrate this by going to a house party, eating cheesy foodstuffs, and watching
commercial s and Beyonce. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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How ’bout you? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/02/weekend-update-holy-shit-its-february.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-8735247158571286871</guid><pubDate>Thu, 24 Jan 2013 22:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-24T17:58:55.268-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">things I love</category><title>things I love: winter doldrums edition, part 2 </title><description>&lt;div class=&quot;yiv233966739MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Well, the winter blues are still dragging me down, so I thought I’d talk about five more things that are lifting me up these cold-ass days: &lt;/div&gt;
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  &lt;/div&gt;
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*This new mug from Anthropologie. The last thing on earth I need is another mug in the house, but it made me smile and right now, inexpensive things that make me smile are oh-so-worth it. I’d rather spend my cash on a one-way ticket to San Diego, however….&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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*These flowers Jane and I picked out at Whole Foods. I sorely needed a dose of spring in this frigid, icy weather.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv233966739MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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*Rehearsal. Like I’ve mentioned, I’m helping out with my theater group’s production of Li’l Abner this winter. I’m not hugely involved, as I will be directing the next show and that will keep me away from home a lot. But the weekly doses I get of rehearsal just make me so happy that I’ve kept up with this ridiculous hobby of mine. Plus, I don’t have to memorize any lines, which is a huge bonus.&lt;/div&gt;
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  &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv233966739MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
*As you know, I’m laying off talking about Jane’s life here on the blog, but I have to just quickly say how thrilled I am that she seems to be doing well with her work – loving the stars and comments from her teacher on her homework (and girl has lots of homework). I work hard with her in the morning on her reading and writing, and it just makes me feel good that maybe I’m helping a little bit.&lt;/div&gt;
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  &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv233966739MsoNormal&quot; id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_1_1359066483410_3080&quot;&gt;
*A new schedule on the horizon. I know, I know, Jane has five more months of kindergarten, which means five more months of this ridiculous schedule that has me racing off to work at 11:30 a.m. when she leaves for school. We’re only halfway through the school year, really. But this whole afternoon kindergarten thing is still weird to me, and I will be JUST SO HAPPY when summer is here and she heads to camp in the morning and I can go to work at a normal time. We definitely keep busy in the mornings, but it just all feels like a delayed start to the real part of the day (work/school).&lt;/div&gt;
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  &lt;/div&gt;
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What are you loving today? &lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/01/things-i-love-winter-doldrums-edition_24.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimwZbIme_LOn-6b15aLw9Y0sP-xybxblHvCwEZcO0osMeHWad51S7M-_Q2Gag_hSPFtCgJnnWAVf7Uw-07QDCGeS9NTlv7VfPzVNffjs1XZKzh4W9vhanMYs2mBx13cF_EUjke/s72-c/mug.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-897351670472188389</guid><pubDate>Thu, 17 Jan 2013 22:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-17T17:04:29.685-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">things I love</category><title>things I love: winter doldrums edition</title><description>&lt;div class=&quot;yiv859559149MsoNormal&quot; id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_1_1358460120814_1893&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
Oh you guys, you guys, I so much (SPOILER ALERT) hate this
time of year. &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;I’m not trying to wish my
life away or anything, but the darkness of January really eats at me, you know?
It’s like a super-heavy wet blanket is just sitting on my head, making me
miserable. I am trying not to be all gloom-and-doom, I really am. But sometimes
it’s really a fight. So today I’m going to fight it by coming up with five
things I am loving right now:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;1)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Downton
Abbey is BACK. And it is as delicious and dramatic and pretty and wonderful
as ever. God, I’ve read so many reviews that say the show is total crap at this
point, and not only do I disagree, I simply don’t care because it MAKES ME
HAPPY. I remember when it was airing in the UK a few months ago, and I was SO
TEMPTED to go online and watch, but I knew it would be extra-special to watch
it in January, because it’s such a miserable month for me. Oh, Amanda – you are
just brilliant sometimes, do you know that? &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;2)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.birchbox.com/shop/brands/chantecaille/chantecaille-faux-cils-mascara&quot;&gt;This mascara&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;OK, so you know how I have a monthly
Birchbox subscription, right? I’m going to be doing reviews of products with a
couple of my friends here on the blog once we get our shit together. (Side
note: this is HILARIOUS because I know very little about beauty products,
obvs.) And while I will probably never pay $42 for a full tube of this magical
concoction, because I am cheap like that, I wish someone would buy it for me.
It doesn’t flake, give me raccoon eyes, or lose its luster in any way as the
day goes on (and on). Love.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;3)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;My new iPhone. Oh my love affair. For its
capacity to take good pictures, for its battery that doesn’t lose its charge in
15 minutes, for the apps, for the fact that I’m not on the receiving end of
Blackberry barbs anymore. And so many other things. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;4)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Three-day weekends. We’ve got one coming up this
weekend because of MLK on Monday. After having 11 days off at the holidays, it
sucked to go back to regular life and a regular (hectic) schedule. So this is a
little mid-January treat.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv859559149MsoListParagraphCxSpLast&quot; id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_1_1358460120814_1823&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;5)&lt;span style=&quot;font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The fact that I broke myself of my holiday
cookie diet. It’s hard to come off of that diet, you know? There’s something
about December that screams “Yes, I WILL have that cookie! Or maybe three
cookies! Or all of the cookies!” Which is all well and good for a couple of
weeks and then there is that terrible moment when you realize that, yes, cookie
season is over and yes, you didn’t lose 25 pounds last year only to gain it all
back in baked goods weight. (Another side note: for those who care, I have
maintained 15 of my 25 pound weight loss from the 17 Day Diet. I’m pleased with
that, although I am working to lose 5 right now, and plan to be there by
spring. Nothing radical this time – just incorporating the lessons I learned
about CARBS and how much I LOVE them but how sometimes I shouldn’t love them SO
MUCH). &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Anyway, the point is, I’m now
back to a more reasonable diet, one
that doesn’t make me want to crash at 4 p.m.&lt;/div&gt;
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What are you loving today? &lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/01/things-i-love-winter-doldrums-edition.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-6856776107396395242</guid><pubDate>Mon, 14 Jan 2013 15:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-14T10:58:46.199-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Instagram</category><title>Instafan.</title><description>&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/AVvXsEgbyp6CrtydCLA842K5MeGc6ZT4O_H_KdxKZCmm2q0hyUTaGqPPeBhDcXIvYu1hyphenhyphenvGpodQ61dBfq_we84GIkpSKAiHpi3w_fvQB_v-3_0SnYNdD1hoP0RXXayHAtyN3iu74vi05/s1600/crayons.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 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/AVvXsEgbyp6CrtydCLA842K5MeGc6ZT4O_H_KdxKZCmm2q0hyUTaGqPPeBhDcXIvYu1hyphenhyphenvGpodQ61dBfq_we84GIkpSKAiHpi3w_fvQB_v-3_0SnYNdD1hoP0RXXayHAtyN3iu74vi05/s320/crayons.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Let’s talk for a second about how much I love Instagram.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I fucking love it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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If you know me – and you do, you do – you know that I am a
HUGE MEGA FAN of social media. You will never hear me talking about shutting
down my Facebook account or quitting Twitter. I love being in contact with
people all the live long day. For someone who is solo with a five-year-old
every morning, it’s my lifeline. And God forbid I have your cell phone number
and I’m bored, because my texting fingers go crazy.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Instagram was the first app I downloaded when I got the
iPhone 5 in December. I mean, the iPhone OBVIOUSLY takes superior pictures tothat
piece o’ shit Blackberry I had, but I love the filters and especially the
social aspect of Instagram. Scrolling through my feed and seeing a little
glimpse of people’s everyday lives is like a soothing balm. Everything is so
pretty and lovely and I love it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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And I know I’m like five years late to the Instagram and
iPhone party, but here I am, too-late-to-even-be-fashionably-late. If you care
to follow, I’m &lt;a href=&quot;http://instagram.com/asg923/&quot;&gt;asg923&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/01/hooked-on-instagram.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyp6CrtydCLA842K5MeGc6ZT4O_H_KdxKZCmm2q0hyUTaGqPPeBhDcXIvYu1hyphenhyphenvGpodQ61dBfq_we84GIkpSKAiHpi3w_fvQB_v-3_0SnYNdD1hoP0RXXayHAtyN3iu74vi05/s72-c/crayons.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-9049710116398776151</guid><pubDate>Fri, 11 Jan 2013 21:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-11T16:30:01.510-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">movies</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">weekend</category><title>weekend update.</title><description>Hello, lovelies! Sorry for the absence this week – just getting
back into the swing of our crazy life. This was the first full work-week I’ve
had in, like, a month. Plus, Jane was back to dance class, I had rehearsal for
a show I’m helping out with (Li’l Abner), PLUS dinner plans with friends last
night – so, all in all, not a BAD week, just a busy one.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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With that, it’s on to the weekend:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Friday: Tonight, Greg and I are going to see the hilarious
hit comedy, Zero Dark Thirty. But
seriously, I’m actually nervous to
see this movie. I know there are torture scenes and a have a feeling Katheryn
Bigelow didn’t just gloss over them, you know? BUT, Greg wants to see it, and I
dragged him to Les Miserables (only
the BEST MOVIE OF THE YEAR) a couple of weeks ago, so off we go. All of this
means that I will, quite shockingly, have seen THREE of the Best Picture Oscar
nominees (including Lincoln). That’s
a lot of highbrow movie watching for me. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Saturday: Welp, tomorrow I have some thrilling plans to
scrub the house during the day. I know, I know – you are jealous. Saturday
night we are going out to dinner with the in-laws for my FIL’s birthday. During
the winter, it’s hyper-important for me to have at least one outing planned per
day on the weekends. I go absolutely stir-fucking-crazy otherwise. My SAD
(seasonal affective disorder) is in high-gear right now, and I must keep busy
to push through. I know, I know, it’s a little bit lighter later now – but having
it not-completely-dark at 5 p.m. isn’t enough for me. I fantasize about the
days where it’s light out until 9. With great, great longing. GREAT LONGING.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Sunday: We are going to watch some of this “football” that
people get so excited about at a friend’s house Sunday afternoon. I will
probably not so much be “watching” this “football,” but I’m happy to hang with
friends nevertheless.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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And you? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/01/weekend-update_11.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-5675673009492086243</guid><pubDate>Fri, 04 Jan 2013 14:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-04T09:22:15.475-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">weekend</category><title>weekend update.</title><description>Why is it that three-day work weeks always feel the longest? Particularly after 11 days off? Well, it&#39;s finally Friday Friday Friday and I am thrilled. (Although, to be honest, it has been nice to get back into the regular routine as well. Stuffing cookies in my mouth-hole all day isn&#39;t an especially productive use of my time, although it IS delicious.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh oh oh, and I have my car back after two and a half weeks! Greg did all of the repair work and then we had it totally painted - so my 2002 Honda Accord looks shiny and new! Whoo hoo! And now, like Greg said, we&#39;re just waiting to see if the whole thing falls into pieces when it hits a speed bump. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So. Weekend. This weekend we are headed off to New Jersey to stay with Greg&#39;s old college roommate, Dimitry, his wife Jackie, and their two kids. I THINK the kids are now all old enough to play with each other and maybe give us 30-second bursts of peace, but we&#39;ll see. No matter, I&#39;m excited to get out of the house for the weekend. It&#39;s hilarious how much our weekends with Dimitry have changed over the past 11 years - we used to stay in his bachelor pad in Jersey City and go into Manhattan til all hours. Now we&#39;ll be lucky if we stay up until 10. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
AND my excitement over the return of &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/&quot;&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt; and&amp;nbsp;my darling Matthew Crawley&amp;nbsp;on Sunday night cannot be overstated. CAN. NOT. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&quot;allowfullscreen&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;315&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/NvDtszcZAV0&quot; width=&quot;560&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/01/weekend-update.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/NvDtszcZAV0/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-7161312042389045914</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 Jan 2013 00:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-01-02T19:08:47.257-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">holidays</category><title>and then it was 2013.</title><description>I hope everyone had a great New Year&#39;s Eve and New Year&#39;s Day! We did. Jimmy and I managed to stay awake til midnight&amp;nbsp;watching Dick Clark/Ryan Seacrest&#39;s Rockin&#39; New Year&#39;s Eve (or whatever it&#39;s called now) after&amp;nbsp;Greg, Jane and I&amp;nbsp;got home from our friends&#39; house at 10. Side&amp;nbsp;note re: this broadcast: why did Fergie have her hand on her hip every time they showed her? Every. Single. Time. I&#39;m no model or anything, but try a new pose every once in a while, Fergie! Anyway, we hosted our annual New Year&#39;s Day party yesterday with great success, and I have to say I was simply SHOCKED this morning when I woke up and realized I had to be a productive member of society again. WHATEVER, society. Also, my stomach is really mad at me for not feeding it any cookies today. WHATEVER, pants that are starting to get a little tight. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
WHATEVER.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I want this year to be great, I really do. I made a lot of social plans today to help move this gloomy month of January along. I&#39;m also helping out with my theater group&#39;s production of Li&#39;l Abner, which goes up next month. Speaking of which, I have to run off to rehearsal for that now. Happy New Year, friends. Let&#39;s kick ass, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-BHoRK8FHAI_cMXAFlYF7xhqhg7qDtBTzXDcPJIg9bEKaWkhWrIs-fCNeqy1sTMvnPqciGk87n8mBXP_1JhZPE6o7qFoAidSPaDxqnjeEx4O_jAunOqHu8WfFD89qOT9lNx50/s1600/photo.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-BHoRK8FHAI_cMXAFlYF7xhqhg7qDtBTzXDcPJIg9bEKaWkhWrIs-fCNeqy1sTMvnPqciGk87n8mBXP_1JhZPE6o7qFoAidSPaDxqnjeEx4O_jAunOqHu8WfFD89qOT9lNx50/s320/photo.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jimmy looks thrilled to be my midnight date, doesn&#39;t he?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2013/01/and-then-it-was-2013.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-BHoRK8FHAI_cMXAFlYF7xhqhg7qDtBTzXDcPJIg9bEKaWkhWrIs-fCNeqy1sTMvnPqciGk87n8mBXP_1JhZPE6o7qFoAidSPaDxqnjeEx4O_jAunOqHu8WfFD89qOT9lNx50/s72-c/photo.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-4367510175874234758</guid><pubDate>Mon, 31 Dec 2012 03:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-12-30T22:01:39.435-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">holidays</category><title>don&#39;t let the door hit your ass on the way out, 2012.</title><description>You know what? 2012 wasn&#39;t my favorite year, for all sorts of reasons. It wasn&#39;t all bad, not even close, but I know I can do better.&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m excited to flip the calendar to a fresh new month, a whole new year. I have high hopes for you, 2013. I really do. Ridiculously high. It&#39;s a big year for me. I will turn FORTY in 2013. God, that sentence looks weird. Anyway, we have nine months to worry about that.&amp;nbsp;I want this year to be awesome in all of the ways, and I am going to work as hard as I can to make that happen.&lt;br /&gt;
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Until then, I want to wish you all a Happy New Year. Be safe. Be good. I&#39;ll see you on the flip side. </description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2012/12/dont-let-door-hit-your-ass-on-way-out.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-2079948256153497817</guid><pubDate>Wed, 26 Dec 2012 21:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-12-26T16:38:14.803-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">holidays</category><title>26th.</title><description>I find myself so relieved that Christmas is over today. I am sitting here right now in my kitchen, listening to Jane read one of her new books to herself in the other room...and am so grateful for the peace and quiet. We went to the awesome new &lt;a href=&quot;http://ctsciencecenter.org/&quot;&gt;Connecticut Science Center&lt;/a&gt; with Heather and her kids this morning, and it was great, but I&#39;m just beat right now. We had a&amp;nbsp;good holiday for sure, and had lots of fun with our families, but it&#39;s time for the madness of this month to wrap up, I think. And although you&#39;ve probably already seen this pic elsewhere, I must post it here on the blog forevermore, as it is my favorite pic from Christmas 2012:&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;Jane with the (moving, neighing) horse Auntie Chrissey got her. She loves/is terrified of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2012/12/26th.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqcfWzQx7SOeW2lYYW-0UC4rIXfp1JJai0cTo_uh6pgOS0T5OB79CAUlLzXNxL_bag1V_tcPD172nrQu6_5pq07lCgeoBIoMVitbjOWNTdm1QRhIPitNbSPnR2NAQKp0vvEkRT/s72-c/Jane+christmas+horse.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-7391568297511833836</guid><pubDate>Sun, 23 Dec 2012 23:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-12-23T18:56:17.567-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">holidays</category><title>to you and yours</title><description>And now, on Christmas Eve Eve, may I present to you the actual pictures we used for this year&#39;s card. I wish all of you who celebrate a wonderful, peaceful and oh-so-merry Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love,&lt;br /&gt;
Amanda&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span id=&quot;goog_831370687&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;goog_831370688&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2012/12/to-you-and-yours.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf0y8a2ozCtx4KyDaYOEC5NQ5Cz9AOlFzVos4NhsgB-Qw6EbZBwyZZkeGe49QjvEfl36JjEMFGHeHCBJjPv2lfipQ-SwiYv9NlIoc7Ye5DdaewKDqGxUyAE2GBgwUjvF_1UQu2/s72-c/232323232%7Ffp73483_nu=3274_764_6_4_WSNRCG=38696;;29732_nu0mrj.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-3371064182401082837</guid><pubDate>Sat, 22 Dec 2012 01:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-12-21T20:29:48.513-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">dogs</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">holidays</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Jane says</category><title>it&#39;s beginning to look a lot like something, anyway.</title><description>So for this year&#39;s Christmas card, I dragged the family down to the beach on the Sunday after Thanksgiving for some picture-taking shenanigans. I don&#39;t know if you remember Thanksgiving weekend, but it was warmer than normal - gorgeous, really. Oh - except for Sunday. Sunday was freeeeezing and wiiiiiiiindy and I forced my canine and young human loved ones to SMILE and DON&#39;T MOVE JIMMY DON&#39;T MOVE JUNIOR DON&#39;T MOVE SMILE JANE JUST SMILE I&#39;LL GET YOUR COAT IN A MINUTE. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ll post the pictures we actually used on the card soon. For now, some outtakes.&lt;br /&gt;
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</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2012/12/its-beginning-to-look-lot-like.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NyhS1iPORFm7GRTEGB3gM0OS5XmflS2OMqKk7Lt6BO_pYYp_cJ1Y45_mG0p1fSr6zIh5A6LH9KM-waKN0LmBjbwGEbvwLOigOmtd0jOy3nL_qBX_Fodb6UA0C3qvjKzNi3qY/s72-c/003.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-1109717005610143804</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Dec 2012 02:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-12-18T21:22:26.279-05:00</atom:updated><title>kinder-drama</title><description>This morning, before I even really opened my eyes, Jane was in my room, on my bed, filling me in on the latest drama of the day. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Mommy, you&#39;re not going to believe when I tell you what they were saying on the bus yesterday,&quot; she said.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Every nerve in my body woke up. &lt;em&gt;This is it,&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;I thought, trying to remember what all the emails and websites I&#39;ve read over the past few days told me about talking to a 5-year-old about the horrible thing that happened.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;So-and-so said that yesterday was her daddy&#39;s birthday. And then so-and-so said it WASN&#39;T TRUE. And so then&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;said....&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let her drama always be this. Always. &lt;br /&gt;
</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2012/12/kinder-drama.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25413386.post-6440113089096810663</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Dec 2012 00:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-12-17T19:48:09.313-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">random</category><title>blurry.</title><description>This weekend was tough, you guys.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After grabbing Jane at school the moment I could on Friday, I spent the weekend going back and forth from watching and reading the most tragic possible news to trying to be a decent parent and pretending everything is OK for Jane. Not only OK, but festive. Because to oblivious children, it was&amp;nbsp;a fun, almost-holiday weekend. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We bought and put up and decorated our Christmas tree. We went to a family birthday party. We did homework. I figured out my new iPhone. We did Christmas shopping. I went to book club. All the normal stuff.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But my mind was a blurry, painful&amp;nbsp;mess. I had a constant lump in my throat, and could be brought to tears in less than a moment. As expected, once the images of those poor children were released, it all got so much worse. &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.newseum.org/todaysfrontpages/hr.asp?fpVname=CT_HC&amp;amp;ref_pge=lst&quot;&gt;The front page of the Hartford Courant today&lt;/a&gt; (my local paper) looked like it could have been a&amp;nbsp;fun class picture. It could have been Jane&#39;s class picture. But it wasn&#39;t. It so, so wasn&#39;t. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And on we march towards Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;
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</description><link>http://memydogsmylife.blogspot.com/2012/12/blurry.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Amanda)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>