<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396</id><updated>2024-12-18T19:27:30.707-08:00</updated><category term="Life With Boy"/><category term="L.A."/><category term="Chicago"/><category term="Pre-Boy"/><category term="Non Boy Post"/><category term="Pregnant With Boy"/><category term="Sleep"/><category term="BOY and CAT"/><category term="Tantrums"/><category term="The Ladies"/><category term="Cabbage"/><category term="Drunken Landladies"/><category term="Writing"/><category term="Colic"/><category term="Confession Friday"/><category term="Mrs. J Knows Best"/><category term="Nursing"/><category term="Teething"/><category term="Celebrity Shmebity"/><category term="Shrimp"/><category term="Terrible Twos"/><category term="Beach"/><category term="Change"/><title type='text'>MRS. JARCY</title><subtitle type='html'>Hello!  My name is Mrs. Jarcy.  I used to be a dog walker.  And an actor.  Then I became a terribly large and complicated pregnant woman.  Now I am Mom and relocated to L.A. via Chicago.  I utilize my dog walking skills occasionally (babies and dogs both ignore the command &quot;no&quot;) and my acting skills constantly (The Most Amazing Boy To Ever Live is my best audience yet).  Here&#39;s my story.  Blink blink...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>482</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-3606375568211214760</id><published>2011-11-15T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T20:56:23.959-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sleep"/><title type='text'>We&#39;re Not Cooking Cabbage Anymore</title><content type='html'>Hey you! &amp;nbsp;You over there! &amp;nbsp;Hi!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Who? Me?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yeah, you over there! &amp;nbsp;Hello! &amp;nbsp;Hey, remember when I used to blog?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Um, no. &amp;nbsp;No, I don&#39;t remember that. &amp;nbsp;You blog?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Blogged. &amp;nbsp;Past tense. &amp;nbsp;I haven&#39;t in a really long time. &amp;nbsp;You see, I got a full time job. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Oh. &amp;nbsp;Okay...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And before that I was spending most of my time looking for a full time job. &amp;nbsp;Before that I was writing a novel as full time as I could while also raising a child full time. &amp;nbsp;I did that for quite awhile. &amp;nbsp;Well, that and sporadically posting random experiences related to the writing and child raising. &amp;nbsp;And there was a brief stint with cooking locally grown cabbage but that didn&#39;t last long.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I see. &amp;nbsp;So what kind of job did you end up with?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A job working for the same institution where I took a writing class one year ago. &amp;nbsp;I work for a writers program. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s called Writers&#39; Program. &amp;nbsp;And I don&#39;t have to hide my dream to finish my book. &amp;nbsp;They like that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Wow, that&#39;s fantastic! &amp;nbsp;Congratulations! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;No, really, I&#39;m so thrilled for you! &amp;nbsp;I mean, what are the odds you find a full time job with benefits that not only is in the field you love but also supportive of you accomplishing your own writing projects!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yeah, it&#39;s real...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;It&#39;s real fantastic!!!!!!!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Um, yeah, it is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;You&#39;ve been working on that book and wanting to write more books and I&#39;ve been sitting here wondering, &quot;What happened to that lady who used to blog about her kid and cabbage, for god&#39;s sake?!?! &amp;nbsp;Where is she?!!&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I thought you said you didn&#39;t know I blogged? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I did?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, you did. &amp;nbsp;But you&#39;re pretty happy for someone you claim to not even know blogs. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Blogged. &amp;nbsp;Past tense, remember? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
(PAUSE)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Okay, I may have looked at your blog a few times in the past. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You did?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I did. &amp;nbsp;And I&#39;ve been wondering about something-- does your kid still have wonky sleep?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Almost every night. &amp;nbsp;As much as things change, others remain the same. &amp;nbsp;And now I have to go because he&#39;s been sitting in his bed for over an hour but not falling asleep. &amp;nbsp;He&#39;s a machine.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Okay, good luck.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Oh and congrats again!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/3606375568211214760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/3606375568211214760?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/3606375568211214760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/3606375568211214760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/11/were-not-cooking-cabbage-anymore.html' title='We&#39;re Not Cooking Cabbage Anymore'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-8294415047489740209</id><published>2011-07-21T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T23:52:59.726-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>Security Detail</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0vzAi27Pb2GGR6-5WqZ90NH1TL-ovPkS5PPRemrQdJS9jkfQFXc7HJxusSpWNosMo_KU8VqzPqSGbmFu3V804IgqUMj_gJGgK09ViSFk2iiLkvff3-CM3lRmFOHMmcFDna3zxMPx2Lnb/s1600/downsized_0625011050a.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0vzAi27Pb2GGR6-5WqZ90NH1TL-ovPkS5PPRemrQdJS9jkfQFXc7HJxusSpWNosMo_KU8VqzPqSGbmFu3V804IgqUMj_gJGgK09ViSFk2iiLkvff3-CM3lRmFOHMmcFDna3zxMPx2Lnb/s320/downsized_0625011050a.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&quot;Alright, nothing to see here. &amp;nbsp;Leave this Mommy alone!&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;You know you&#39;ve made it in Hollywood when you find it necessary to hire security detail. &amp;nbsp;You know, guards to keep adoring fans at arm&#39;s length while you make your way to the car after a night of clubbing. &amp;nbsp;Guards to be on the lookout for that crazy stalker dude who keeps trying to break into your house in The Hills. &amp;nbsp;Guards to make sure your spouse doesn&#39;t eat your sweet potato fries.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Wait...what?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My son acts as my very own security detail. &amp;nbsp;If his father puts his arm around me, Boy is immediate to point out, &quot;No, that&#39;s mommy&#39;s!&quot; and swats his arm away from my shoulder. &amp;nbsp;If his father attempts to eat food that Boy has deemed mine he&#39;s met with a similar response-- &quot;No! &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s Mommy&#39;s! &amp;nbsp;You not take it!&quot; &amp;nbsp;Mr. Jarcy bought shoes that are identical to mine (sounds weird but they&#39;re classic running shoes that a person of any age can pull off) and this threw Boy into a tailspin. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Those are Mommy&#39;s shoes! &amp;nbsp;You take off! AHHHH!&quot; &amp;nbsp;While most of this guarding is against Mr. Jarcy that may simply be because the three of us are together the most. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At best, I find it flattering, comforting, protecting. &amp;nbsp;At worst, I find it... aw who am I kidding? &amp;nbsp;I mostly like it. &amp;nbsp;Lord knows, there will probably come a day when he couldn&#39;t care less about who&#39;s eating off my plate. &amp;nbsp;For now it at times feels like it&#39;s just me and him against the world. &amp;nbsp;And that may be the best part of this whole Mommyhood in Hollywood deal. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/8294415047489740209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/8294415047489740209?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/8294415047489740209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/8294415047489740209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/07/security-detail.html' title='Security Detail'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0vzAi27Pb2GGR6-5WqZ90NH1TL-ovPkS5PPRemrQdJS9jkfQFXc7HJxusSpWNosMo_KU8VqzPqSGbmFu3V804IgqUMj_gJGgK09ViSFk2iiLkvff3-CM3lRmFOHMmcFDna3zxMPx2Lnb/s72-c/downsized_0625011050a.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-2508433597506850312</id><published>2011-07-20T00:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T00:09:19.364-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tantrums"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Terrible Twos"/><title type='text'>Pigpen</title><content type='html'>The other night I attempted to bathe The Boy. &amp;nbsp;The Boy hates them lately. &amp;nbsp;I had avoided giving him one for a few nights so enough was enough. &amp;nbsp;A wash down was essential, lest he start resembling that filthy boy in Peanuts cartoons with flies hovering above his head. &amp;nbsp;(Ugh, why can&#39;t I remember that character&#39;s name right now? &amp;nbsp;Well you know who I mean right? &amp;nbsp;Boy resembled him.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So just as predicted the bath didn&#39;t go well. &amp;nbsp;We fought throughout it&#39;s duration. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Wait a minute-- You&#39;re telling me you argued with a two and a half year old child?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, I did. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Can you really have an argument with a small child like that?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m not sure about others but you can with mine and I did. &amp;nbsp;It went something like this--&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: &amp;nbsp;We&#39;re going to take a bath.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: &amp;nbsp;No I not take a bath!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: &amp;nbsp;Please sit down in the bath, Boy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: &amp;nbsp;No I not sit!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: &amp;nbsp;Okay, I need you to sit down now. &amp;nbsp;You&#39;re going to slip and it&#39;s scaring me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: &amp;nbsp;No! &amp;nbsp;I not sit!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: &amp;nbsp;Alright, then we&#39;re done with the bath.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: &amp;nbsp;NO I NOT DONE IN BATH!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sigh. &amp;nbsp;Something like that. &amp;nbsp;Not the most relaxing or pleasant point of our day together. &amp;nbsp;I tried to remain calm but my little empath can pick up on how I&#39;m feeling even if I&#39;m burying those angry feelings as best I can. &amp;nbsp;I hoisted his forty-pound, slippery body out of the tub (honestly, a large river otter would have been more manageable) and carried him off to his room to dry off. &amp;nbsp;This is where our next conversation took place--&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: &amp;nbsp;Mommy you not mad. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I say nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: &amp;nbsp;Mommy you not mad!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: &amp;nbsp;I am a little mad.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: &amp;nbsp;No you not mad!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: &amp;nbsp;Honey, take it easy. &amp;nbsp;Let&#39;s just get you dressed and ready for bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few moments of silence passed as I toweled him off and found jammies. &amp;nbsp;Then out of nowhere--&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: &amp;nbsp;Mommy, nobody take you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: &amp;nbsp;What?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: &amp;nbsp;Nobody take Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: &amp;nbsp;No, Boy, nobody take Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boy: &amp;nbsp;Nobody take mine Mommy. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I scooped him up and held him in my lap and we rocked back and forth for a long time. &amp;nbsp;Teary eyed, I kissed his head/cheek/forehead no less than a billion times and reassured, &quot;No, honey, nobody take Mommy.&quot; &amp;nbsp;We rocked more. &amp;nbsp;I kissed him more. &amp;nbsp;I held him tighter. &amp;nbsp;He hugged me back. &amp;nbsp;I was no longer angry. &amp;nbsp;Just grateful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;He sounds like quite the special little boy. &amp;nbsp;Very intense, yet smart and irresistible.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He is. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;You&#39;re a lucky mommy.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
--&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/2508433597506850312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/2508433597506850312?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2508433597506850312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2508433597506850312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/07/pigpen.html' title='Pigpen'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-4779567851375766234</id><published>2011-07-14T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T10:31:03.509-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>Boy Earning His Keep (And Apparently A Shirt)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzqhUYcDEXjg9z_xXL1SJvj-BdtnP3wt10qwrDsY_J5CCo6lHbcxIlPyQ6iV_Clmop7dC1rZEL7SJRNiev6wA&#39; class=&#39;b-hbp-video b-uploaded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/4779567851375766234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/4779567851375766234?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/4779567851375766234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/4779567851375766234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/07/boy-earning-his-keep-and-apparently.html' title='Boy Earning His Keep (And Apparently A Shirt)'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-5220184880850621369</id><published>2011-07-13T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T11:06:06.453-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>Mind Control</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGImKrSkg5IHBNRI3Q3isDHu9CdeqfQrtnZUhLfpSgGjAKRzr4ao5AFNJk9sERj6-VXMw6LTADdjhD0Xaq6yqca1bbnIN3Md35hDc55JOoF7AFRS2LaDmgj1MEyucvP0U1PwiXV1Rnbpgr/s1600/0705011432.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGImKrSkg5IHBNRI3Q3isDHu9CdeqfQrtnZUhLfpSgGjAKRzr4ao5AFNJk9sERj6-VXMw6LTADdjhD0Xaq6yqca1bbnIN3Md35hDc55JOoF7AFRS2LaDmgj1MEyucvP0U1PwiXV1Rnbpgr/s320/0705011432.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Boy&#39;s home away from home-- the mall train.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I have officially lost my mind. &amp;nbsp;My son now enjoys complete and utter control of it. &amp;nbsp;Yesterday, this was more evident than ever before. &amp;nbsp;Let me explain--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Shortly after waking up, Boy asked me, &quot;Mommy, where my Gordon and Henry go?&quot; &amp;nbsp;Gordon and Henry are trains from Thomas and Friends, the show I love, hate, love to hate and hate to love (very complex feelings regarding Thomas and his gaggle of motorized vehicle servants who live to obey and please their human masters). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You don&#39;t have Gordon and Henry, honey,&quot; I replied as the word SUCKER flashed atop my head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Mommy, I need mine own Gordon and Henry,&quot; Boy said and then followed up that declaration with a very big, &quot;PLEASE?&quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I melted. &amp;nbsp;Boy says &quot;please&quot; but usually only after prompting. &amp;nbsp;And he never has really asked for specific toys. &amp;nbsp;I thought back over all the purchases I&#39;d made throughout last week for myself and his father-- new running shoes (we don&#39;t run but walk like super hard), anniversary gifts for one another, etc. &amp;nbsp;It took all of half a second for me to determine Boy MUST have Gordon and Henry ASAP. &amp;nbsp;The fact he was emphatically mentioning over and over, &quot;Mommy I need Gordon and Henry...PLEASE?&quot; only convinced me further.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The SUCKER sign tripled in size over my head. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And so the Gordon and Henry ordering online began. &amp;nbsp;Boy got up close to the computer screen, overseeing my work and then pointed out, &quot;Oh, that&#39;s Bash...PLEASE? &amp;nbsp;Oh, that&#39;s Dash...PLEASE? &amp;nbsp;Ferdinand! &amp;nbsp;Mommy, that&#39;s Ferdinand...PLEASE?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My online shopping addict within took hold. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Don&#39;t you need more train tracks too, Boy?&quot;&amp;nbsp;Boy looked at me but didn&#39;t answer. &amp;nbsp;He didn&#39;t need to. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Okay, I&#39;ll get those too,&quot; I said, clearly under the train spell Boy had cast.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wish I could say this is where the story ends but it doesn&#39;t. &amp;nbsp;You see, online shopping doesn&#39;t provide immediate gratification for a two and a half year old and his requests for Gordon and Henry continued. &amp;nbsp;Not in a tantrummy way either, simply a &quot;I get mine own Gordon and Henry!&quot; &amp;nbsp;I knew we&#39;d hear this until the trains would arrive two days later. &amp;nbsp;Two days could feel like two weeks. &amp;nbsp;So I canceled the Amazon order and we headed to Target. &amp;nbsp;Did I mention I had a really intense sinus pressure headache? &amp;nbsp;Well I did which may explain why I was so anxious to give him new toys to occupy his time. &amp;nbsp;I pushed through the pain, the mission to find Gordon and Henry coursing through my veins. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We found a Gordon. &amp;nbsp;We found a Henry. &amp;nbsp;We found a Percy and some more train tracks. &amp;nbsp;They were battery operated-- not the usual wooden trains we buy that Boy loves to roll back and forth, back and forth, back and forth on everything from train tracks to my leg. &amp;nbsp;(This is foreshadow right here). &amp;nbsp;But Boy was captivated by them and their voices. &amp;nbsp;&quot;I&#39;m Gordon! &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m the fastest and best!&quot; &amp;nbsp;We brought them home. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thirty seconds after Gordon was unwrapped Boy tried his usual back and forth rolling of the train which, of course, didn&#39;t work well as Battery Powered Gordon had his own agenda to simply move forward. &amp;nbsp;&quot;Mommy, Gordon is broken,&quot; Boy announced. &amp;nbsp;&quot;You fix...PLEASE?!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I fixed it by running off with the other battery operated trains and hiding them in my closet, hoping he&#39;d forget we had brought them home. &amp;nbsp;Then I hauled ass back on to Amazon and reordered our original purchase of 5 wooden trains and then-- get this-- clicked OVERNIGHT SHIPPING on the whole order, train track set and all. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now Boy has enjoyed Gordon for almost a day and learned how to deal with his relentless desire to move only forward. &amp;nbsp;Gordon has broken a few times and somehow recovers on his own so that Mr. Jarcy and I can simply say, &quot;He&#39;s fixed!&quot; and then the two of them go back to play time. &amp;nbsp;And now I sit in a coffee shop waiting very impatiently for all the other trains to arrive just so I can see that child&#39;s face light up like it&#39;s Christmas morning (and believe me, it really is like Christmas morning with how much that shit costs). &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yep, lost my mind for sure. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I&#39;ll tell you what-- this kid means the world to us. &amp;nbsp;And he&#39;s not a spoiled brat. &amp;nbsp;He&#39;s super cute, super funny, super energetic, super spirited. &amp;nbsp;He&#39;s not just super, he&#39;s SUPER. &amp;nbsp;He&#39;s like a million rays of sunshine that I get to bask in. &amp;nbsp;So at least I moved to Hollywood and he&#39;s got control of my mind instead of all those Scientologists. &amp;nbsp;With Boy in charge, they have no chance of snatching me up (I&#39;m easily talked into things and fear that could easily happen). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixH81xpOgqBaeNBDcJehsNj_TeFcOZ8bflnoe1Ew06447JYydEs0THM2D7NxEDM6gT_mfGe8t5M0KraozSFjRo70qc0mtZelQ5FehpcQLSiwrcfOqyfJtWdy71aNSw28_Kk0sz6grClutZ/s1600/downsized_0705011431.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixH81xpOgqBaeNBDcJehsNj_TeFcOZ8bflnoe1Ew06447JYydEs0THM2D7NxEDM6gT_mfGe8t5M0KraozSFjRo70qc0mtZelQ5FehpcQLSiwrcfOqyfJtWdy71aNSw28_Kk0sz6grClutZ/s320/downsized_0705011431.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Master and Mom Servant&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/5220184880850621369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/5220184880850621369?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/5220184880850621369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/5220184880850621369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/07/mind-control.html' title='Mind Control'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGImKrSkg5IHBNRI3Q3isDHu9CdeqfQrtnZUhLfpSgGjAKRzr4ao5AFNJk9sERj6-VXMw6LTADdjhD0Xaq6yqca1bbnIN3Md35hDc55JOoF7AFRS2LaDmgj1MEyucvP0U1PwiXV1Rnbpgr/s72-c/0705011432.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-4052595323934320192</id><published>2011-06-25T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-25T19:55:29.044-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>Drastic Cut</title><content type='html'>We&#39;ve been busy. &amp;nbsp;First off, Boy has gotten a drastic haircut courtesy of me. &amp;nbsp;Not too shabby, huh? &amp;nbsp;Secondly, we went to Chicago for a week and had a fabulous time. &amp;nbsp;Lastly, we&#39;re back in L.A. and swimming in our pool. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m so out of shape that after moving around for twenty minutes in our pool I was sore. &amp;nbsp;So now I&#39;m working on a fitness regime. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But the kid&#39;s haircut is pretty great huh?! &amp;nbsp;He&#39;s such a doll...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7AZjCG8JweN1GBEdtt5Eh2JmCvhQ92NlK6C0ucJY6sU6sqvVvQ_v8rkty-usx9Xz0Gs1TNU1gQRDFHoy50ZXczNtBZsqyBdJ7mAp_ucXlxTLPf0pv2etCqCMwVDo2vNxfK-pwUvYtJpOG/s1600/0625011050.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7AZjCG8JweN1GBEdtt5Eh2JmCvhQ92NlK6C0ucJY6sU6sqvVvQ_v8rkty-usx9Xz0Gs1TNU1gQRDFHoy50ZXczNtBZsqyBdJ7mAp_ucXlxTLPf0pv2etCqCMwVDo2vNxfK-pwUvYtJpOG/s400/0625011050.jpg&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/4052595323934320192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/4052595323934320192?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/4052595323934320192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/4052595323934320192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/06/drastic-cut.html' title='Drastic Cut'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7AZjCG8JweN1GBEdtt5Eh2JmCvhQ92NlK6C0ucJY6sU6sqvVvQ_v8rkty-usx9Xz0Gs1TNU1gQRDFHoy50ZXczNtBZsqyBdJ7mAp_ucXlxTLPf0pv2etCqCMwVDo2vNxfK-pwUvYtJpOG/s72-c/0625011050.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-1486697657766231526</id><published>2011-05-19T23:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T23:59:42.991-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sleep"/><title type='text'>Night Parking</title><content type='html'>&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/AVvXsEiGzqKztk2oYeKlUP9CmvaG4nCOWgNTKJOyN_QO0GeMfLXw6DNNoBQrF5nB1x-7CB9a3oqG1w10qG5mWGTqthAmUFbwG0_qzsqlARcqTEOONky0flpcM5IDuRjDlaht6_I7kgwbf2RxvST5/s1600/downsized_0519011951.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGzqKztk2oYeKlUP9CmvaG4nCOWgNTKJOyN_QO0GeMfLXw6DNNoBQrF5nB1x-7CB9a3oqG1w10qG5mWGTqthAmUFbwG0_qzsqlARcqTEOONky0flpcM5IDuRjDlaht6_I7kgwbf2RxvST5/s320/downsized_0519011951.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;Around 7:30pm this evening, I did what most parents would never do with their kids-- I took mine to the park. &amp;nbsp;As you can see above, 7:30pm is not the busiest time at a playground.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;That said, there were a few other parents/grandparents/caregivers blowing time and energy with their kids. &amp;nbsp;For awhile now I&#39;ve wondered if there&#39;s some sort of support group for the sleep deprived parent. &amp;nbsp;I could use one of those from time to time (often). &amp;nbsp;Well, I need to look no further-- those parents whose kids refuse to go to bed at those normal kiddie hours and/or need less sleep than an ER doctor on call are all congregated at the good ol&#39; park after 7pm! &amp;nbsp;Now, we didn&#39;t bond per se. &amp;nbsp;Everyone is too exhausted to exert any real effort at making friends. &amp;nbsp;We&#39;re there just to exert those night owls. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s pretty obvious the park is the LAST place we really want to be as it gets dark. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;But you know what? &amp;nbsp;I think we&#39;ll do it more often. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s actually fantastic to be at the park when not many others are. &amp;nbsp;Boy and I took a walk and he hauled this massive stick around the track with one hand and held my hand with the other. &amp;nbsp;(Queue the tears, it was so adorable.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&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/AVvXsEgsM9DwQVIXjXCPUWGGMgHqSCRDtdIOR742U_9_Ty362cluWMWW4TjE2vHE94lysMx780jo3NPzDMF-8OO1kIkB3XxG8qEZu7f0wO0bzlyszwOWhFrqVGtE1NEeBe_xCf9g0q5YtQFKE5b9/s1600/downsized_0519012002.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/AVvXsEgsM9DwQVIXjXCPUWGGMgHqSCRDtdIOR742U_9_Ty362cluWMWW4TjE2vHE94lysMx780jo3NPzDMF-8OO1kIkB3XxG8qEZu7f0wO0bzlyszwOWhFrqVGtE1NEeBe_xCf9g0q5YtQFKE5b9/s320/downsized_0519012002.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;We also spent a good 30 minutes swinging. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s 30 minutes I wasn&#39;t watching a Pixar movie!!! &amp;nbsp;I love Pixar but it was more than refreshing to -- god forbid-- turn off the tv and spend an evening out of the friggin apartment. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&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/AVvXsEhewpWVa6d8EQEEsumBXDkC8M_Df-H109H8CGmKjqiWmgoFQ85eYIx_XEUGcP1QwaIKP2699jX-320zwvAZyMMBfQVZlPvSYRwy-kXGc8xocMiBmEPYS8OFt4KnaFG_ba9lmNKGvkcFb86K/s1600/downsized_0519011951b.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewpWVa6d8EQEEsumBXDkC8M_Df-H109H8CGmKjqiWmgoFQ85eYIx_XEUGcP1QwaIKP2699jX-320zwvAZyMMBfQVZlPvSYRwy-kXGc8xocMiBmEPYS8OFt4KnaFG_ba9lmNKGvkcFb86K/s320/downsized_0519011951b.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;As we drove home around 8:30pm, I saw another mommy with a toddler boy walking the streets and while I didn&#39;t stop the car and haul her into a long embrace, I did think, &quot;That woman knows what this is like. &amp;nbsp;Her kid doesn&#39;t sleep &#39;normal hours&#39; either. &amp;nbsp;I love her.&quot; &amp;nbsp;Speaking of love-- I love this guy above. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ll love him (and the park) even more if we have an uninterrupted night of sleep. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s a given the park outing has exhausted me. &amp;nbsp;The Boy? &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ll know more by morning. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/1486697657766231526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/1486697657766231526?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/1486697657766231526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/1486697657766231526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/05/night-parking.html' title='Night Parking'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGzqKztk2oYeKlUP9CmvaG4nCOWgNTKJOyN_QO0GeMfLXw6DNNoBQrF5nB1x-7CB9a3oqG1w10qG5mWGTqthAmUFbwG0_qzsqlARcqTEOONky0flpcM5IDuRjDlaht6_I7kgwbf2RxvST5/s72-c/downsized_0519011951.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-1240731382275468586</id><published>2011-05-16T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T13:24:46.158-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>My Financial Planner</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtr3SAriJdnTlZEBy-PpdGFeP5ut2nSUnR3ZTnb9gAkWtuCQrpameY3h1Em73Djtu7XSqWWmiILGfWFpTeLatCiO90chQ5LgLXRjSP_f9WQeI_lzrM40mQtUx7PeFRvvgnNgz3jRnbmTe/s1600/downsized_0516011130a.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtr3SAriJdnTlZEBy-PpdGFeP5ut2nSUnR3ZTnb9gAkWtuCQrpameY3h1Em73Djtu7XSqWWmiILGfWFpTeLatCiO90chQ5LgLXRjSP_f9WQeI_lzrM40mQtUx7PeFRvvgnNgz3jRnbmTe/s400/downsized_0516011130a.jpg&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&quot;Mommy? &amp;nbsp;You know, I&#39;m going over the receipt from our grocery store outing and I have to say you&#39;re spending waaay too much on pre-made guacamole and those new black bean chips. &amp;nbsp;Same goes for white wine, fancy bread, lifestyle magazines, room oil diffusers... Do I need to do an intervention? &amp;nbsp;Because I will. &amp;nbsp;Let&#39;s reign it in, shall we?&quot; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/1240731382275468586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/1240731382275468586?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/1240731382275468586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/1240731382275468586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-financial-planner.html' title='My Financial Planner'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtr3SAriJdnTlZEBy-PpdGFeP5ut2nSUnR3ZTnb9gAkWtuCQrpameY3h1Em73Djtu7XSqWWmiILGfWFpTeLatCiO90chQ5LgLXRjSP_f9WQeI_lzrM40mQtUx7PeFRvvgnNgz3jRnbmTe/s72-c/downsized_0516011130a.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-8397742158638627684</id><published>2011-05-06T14:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T14:37:41.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Blows</title><content type='html'>&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/AVvXsEjMnkN5o3H0kygQ61vMQ4I8XRE6Rk41Ks2nxNJrANrscGcpnnm5kpzejLxSi3G8ABEwYPQ8BYwMzjVI190SUj1y2NA9VoO4BWpBby_J8TAyqTinK5tmFDrlUG9yFy21v5qNjpOU38soEikO/s1600/downsized_0104011414.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnkN5o3H0kygQ61vMQ4I8XRE6Rk41Ks2nxNJrANrscGcpnnm5kpzejLxSi3G8ABEwYPQ8BYwMzjVI190SUj1y2NA9VoO4BWpBby_J8TAyqTinK5tmFDrlUG9yFy21v5qNjpOU38soEikO/s320/downsized_0104011414.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This is how I feel today. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;d love to just take a nap on the floor long enough for someone to come into my apartment and either burn my novel-writing endeavor or finish it once and for all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
AHHHHH! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So sick of it. &amp;nbsp;Seriously.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/8397742158638627684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/8397742158638627684?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/8397742158638627684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/8397742158638627684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-blows.html' title='This Blows'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnkN5o3H0kygQ61vMQ4I8XRE6Rk41Ks2nxNJrANrscGcpnnm5kpzejLxSi3G8ABEwYPQ8BYwMzjVI190SUj1y2NA9VoO4BWpBby_J8TAyqTinK5tmFDrlUG9yFy21v5qNjpOU38soEikO/s72-c/downsized_0104011414.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-3911046129916947712</id><published>2011-05-01T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T14:01:02.398-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sleep"/><title type='text'>Where&#39;s Boy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5rprQXpeRCtfDI8iEzsTc_9hSYGTv0Rlxy91pcUP3tr55Q_60HqgnAeu03A2CdVC29KsxNBShyHwSIcvYQqUf8n_YQ7n9x2y9NB86K7cdSyFHO4n-ai8-n4CEgxkeOcjMqIcLsL8ADoz/s1600/downsized_0303010919.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5rprQXpeRCtfDI8iEzsTc_9hSYGTv0Rlxy91pcUP3tr55Q_60HqgnAeu03A2CdVC29KsxNBShyHwSIcvYQqUf8n_YQ7n9x2y9NB86K7cdSyFHO4n-ai8-n4CEgxkeOcjMqIcLsL8ADoz/s400/downsized_0303010919.jpg&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&quot;I wonder if She sees me here? &amp;nbsp;Maybe I won&#39;t have to nap if She doesn&#39;t. &amp;nbsp; When will She learn that Boy is in charge of any and all sleeping in this household? &amp;nbsp;She&#39;s still not getting it.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/3911046129916947712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/3911046129916947712?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/3911046129916947712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/3911046129916947712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/05/wheres-boy.html' title='Where&#39;s Boy?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5rprQXpeRCtfDI8iEzsTc_9hSYGTv0Rlxy91pcUP3tr55Q_60HqgnAeu03A2CdVC29KsxNBShyHwSIcvYQqUf8n_YQ7n9x2y9NB86K7cdSyFHO4n-ai8-n4CEgxkeOcjMqIcLsL8ADoz/s72-c/downsized_0303010919.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-843147580556991236</id><published>2011-04-26T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T14:49:14.129-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>Box Head</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuyl3V2N63jN9UgMtoamIGFq_KJMG67m9x2r9BAz9ONszlkk5NHgvBdDyWUrCGqzoUIWsMi77Zm8r69xjgu7ziQ7JPJjZtKrM46h3FSf35q0h0gGYWs_7UfihSrX0tdSqaLa9SzBoGvAQO/s1600/0416011556.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuyl3V2N63jN9UgMtoamIGFq_KJMG67m9x2r9BAz9ONszlkk5NHgvBdDyWUrCGqzoUIWsMi77Zm8r69xjgu7ziQ7JPJjZtKrM46h3FSf35q0h0gGYWs_7UfihSrX0tdSqaLa9SzBoGvAQO/s400/0416011556.jpg&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&quot;La la la la la...I&#39;m dancing with a box on my head! &amp;nbsp;Tra la la la la....I&#39;m dancing with a box on my head. &amp;nbsp;La la la la la... &amp;nbsp;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-weight: normal;&quot;&gt;What&#39;s that Mommy? &amp;nbsp;No, I don&#39;t want to nap.&lt;/span&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Tra la la la la...I&#39;m dancing with a box on my head...&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/843147580556991236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/843147580556991236?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/843147580556991236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/843147580556991236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/04/box-head.html' title='Box Head'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuyl3V2N63jN9UgMtoamIGFq_KJMG67m9x2r9BAz9ONszlkk5NHgvBdDyWUrCGqzoUIWsMi77Zm8r69xjgu7ziQ7JPJjZtKrM46h3FSf35q0h0gGYWs_7UfihSrX0tdSqaLa9SzBoGvAQO/s72-c/0416011556.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-2863414494428381024</id><published>2011-04-25T16:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T16:37:50.260-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Non Boy Post"/><title type='text'>Went To Vegas, Didn&#39;t Gamble Once</title><content type='html'>&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/AVvXsEgycPe-oTken4vcNFng6PJmk84q63rdTL0MDSvJDWsclTzUfvqnsgS_5BBY8RWjcTNlnZQYwca7CIfrAt9voEmGlLQKsqnuz_y38H-P6QrGMFAy5Z-P5XBisJXGIr-vfvKrsSdWo3ViIzay/s1600/0408011507.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycPe-oTken4vcNFng6PJmk84q63rdTL0MDSvJDWsclTzUfvqnsgS_5BBY8RWjcTNlnZQYwca7CIfrAt9voEmGlLQKsqnuz_y38H-P6QrGMFAy5Z-P5XBisJXGIr-vfvKrsSdWo3ViIzay/s400/0408011507.jpg&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I went to Vegas a few weeks ago. &amp;nbsp;By myself. &amp;nbsp;No Boy, no Mr. Jarcy. &amp;nbsp;Well, that sounds depressing, now doesn&#39;t it? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But it wasn&#39;t!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I met up with a friend and we had some good girl bonding time. &amp;nbsp;Yeah! &amp;nbsp;It was my first time away from The Boy-- ever. &amp;nbsp;What I mean is EVER! &amp;nbsp;I was a little nervous.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But it was great!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s not to say I didn&#39;t miss him (oh yeah, and that taller man I live with Mr. Jarcy), but it was nice to get away and just wander around Vegas, drink glasses of wine at 1am, drink a frozen margarita at 3pm (I swear I didn&#39;t drink that much!) and simply take in the spectacle that is known as Las Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What a dirty/crazy/rather appealing place!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The drive there just wasn&#39;t the most exciting at times. &amp;nbsp;But I was looking forward to venturing further than an hour from my home out here, which is something I had not done ever. &amp;nbsp;We&#39;re certainly not in Illinois anymore. &amp;nbsp;And while I don&#39;t think I&#39;d want to live in Las Vegas, it was fun to go and now that I have I&#39;m ready to go again. &amp;nbsp;In spite of it being Las Vegas. &amp;nbsp;(If you&#39;ve been there I think you&#39;ll understand that statement.)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/2863414494428381024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/2863414494428381024?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2863414494428381024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2863414494428381024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/04/weekend-off-duty.html' title='Went To Vegas, Didn&#39;t Gamble Once'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycPe-oTken4vcNFng6PJmk84q63rdTL0MDSvJDWsclTzUfvqnsgS_5BBY8RWjcTNlnZQYwca7CIfrAt9voEmGlLQKsqnuz_y38H-P6QrGMFAy5Z-P5XBisJXGIr-vfvKrsSdWo3ViIzay/s72-c/0408011507.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-2606926158536775012</id><published>2011-04-21T23:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T23:03:04.367-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>Open Another Landfill For The Jarcy Diaper Collection, Please</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vCYb6iohh_YTSRkoqZiuIWDae5Yqs6yRjloSJ0dmzxFiM8DghWinkNMbwR7SwOWyR7kuwtnPLCpwa_4lHBoCT2lfbMhr2fYSTIXYXmow-vwy8cBZO2owO_zYuu9l_7SvR3ibeCovoQNP/s1600/downsized_0203010857.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vCYb6iohh_YTSRkoqZiuIWDae5Yqs6yRjloSJ0dmzxFiM8DghWinkNMbwR7SwOWyR7kuwtnPLCpwa_4lHBoCT2lfbMhr2fYSTIXYXmow-vwy8cBZO2owO_zYuu9l_7SvR3ibeCovoQNP/s400/downsized_0203010857.jpg&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&quot;So I use this potty chair thingy to watch &#39;The Backyardigans&#39; on Nick, Jr. right? &amp;nbsp;I thought so.&quot; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/2606926158536775012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/2606926158536775012?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2606926158536775012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2606926158536775012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/04/open-another-landfill-for-jarcy-diaper.html' title='Open Another Landfill For The Jarcy Diaper Collection, Please'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vCYb6iohh_YTSRkoqZiuIWDae5Yqs6yRjloSJ0dmzxFiM8DghWinkNMbwR7SwOWyR7kuwtnPLCpwa_4lHBoCT2lfbMhr2fYSTIXYXmow-vwy8cBZO2owO_zYuu9l_7SvR3ibeCovoQNP/s72-c/downsized_0203010857.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-2183167373295689091</id><published>2011-03-19T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T18:18:53.732-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>Pretzel Napping</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXm2gsFTsfjhjbazBcUiDzBVRVQhBR5JaWdUpHEQgisiVTBanqt16YPhJSFMZ9vYJS-0sv7YU5B0x-3lHrIPcDSasYdZtRoan7NNJdydWo2KzwJa8PsYs_rG5Y97Mn-O-PP7x37QhPZtt/s1600/0319011533a.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXm2gsFTsfjhjbazBcUiDzBVRVQhBR5JaWdUpHEQgisiVTBanqt16YPhJSFMZ9vYJS-0sv7YU5B0x-3lHrIPcDSasYdZtRoan7NNJdydWo2KzwJa8PsYs_rG5Y97Mn-O-PP7x37QhPZtt/s320/0319011533a.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&quot;Well, this doesn&#39;t look comfortable to my mother, especially since there&#39;s an entire crib to spread out in. &amp;nbsp;But I&#39;m asleep and seem to be digging it all wedged up against the crib&#39;s side so Pretzel Nap it is!&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/2183167373295689091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/2183167373295689091?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2183167373295689091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2183167373295689091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/03/pretzel-napping.html' title='Pretzel Napping'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXm2gsFTsfjhjbazBcUiDzBVRVQhBR5JaWdUpHEQgisiVTBanqt16YPhJSFMZ9vYJS-0sv7YU5B0x-3lHrIPcDSasYdZtRoan7NNJdydWo2KzwJa8PsYs_rG5Y97Mn-O-PP7x37QhPZtt/s72-c/0319011533a.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-3485886626125907193</id><published>2011-03-17T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T13:39:50.913-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Writing"/><title type='text'>Riveting Post Here!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qk-qq0AaUK-0nHvH_J3zcYqJ-v2DlFlcp7kofRmXg6ix2YrbGOg62y5p8yU8dJoyduMzlqmQ2PehoYQ8n2dwEoS-jRIXWhp1JRzyw3eetvSshsjQX9R_YRgxmnltPYpYTuF_bGcVQOGR/s1600/downsized_0303011551a.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qk-qq0AaUK-0nHvH_J3zcYqJ-v2DlFlcp7kofRmXg6ix2YrbGOg62y5p8yU8dJoyduMzlqmQ2PehoYQ8n2dwEoS-jRIXWhp1JRzyw3eetvSshsjQX9R_YRgxmnltPYpYTuF_bGcVQOGR/s320/downsized_0303011551a.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&quot;Mommy and Daddy sometimes let me take an improvised nap on the floor because when I nap more than thirty minutes in my cozy crib I have a tendency to stay up til midnight. &amp;nbsp;They&#39;re idiots though because I like to stay up til midnight no matter what they attempt in controlling my sleep habits! &amp;nbsp;I won&#39;t be tamed! &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m loved regardless.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
If you asked my old talent agent, Peter, why I haven&#39;t been blogging nearly as much as I used to he would respond with, &quot;I don&#39;t know what to tell you... (insert long pause here)...I really don&#39;t.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had asked him what I could do to increase my chances in auditioning more -- back when I dabbled with auditioning in Chicago -- and that was his answer. &amp;nbsp;That he didn&#39;t know. &amp;nbsp;He didn&#39;t seem to be in a very good place though. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m sure he was wondering what he was doing as a talent agent in Chicago at the time because shortly thereafter he quit and moved on to something else. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t know what, only that I saw him on the el train headed back up north after a day downtown. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was so pissed when he replied with that &quot;I don&#39;t know what to tell you&quot; BS... but I quote him constantly. &amp;nbsp;And that&#39;s the only reply I have to not blogging. &amp;nbsp;I just don&#39;t know what to tell you other than I am utterly consumed with writing this 300 pages or so fictional book. &amp;nbsp;And right now I am avoiding that endeavor as if it is the plague so now I can blog. &amp;nbsp;Lucky you!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here are random bits I have to share. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s focused on life in California for those of you don&#39;t live elsewhere, mainly back home in the Midwest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. &amp;nbsp;I cannot tell you how many cars in L.A. fall under the category of luxury vehicle. &amp;nbsp;It is insane. &amp;nbsp;Yesterday, I counted at least three corvettes as I drove to my casting office gig. &amp;nbsp;Then I counted about a thousand Audis, BMWs, Mercedes, Jaguars, Bentleys, Rolls Royces and Lexus (how do you pluralize Mercedes and Lexus? Huh.) &amp;nbsp;Now I&#39;m not from rural Dakota-- I am accustomed to nice cars. &amp;nbsp;But nothing prepares you for the wealth driving around L.A. except a summer spent in the Hamptons I imagine. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s nutso.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. &amp;nbsp;I cannot tell you how mini Mini Me from the Austin Powers movies is in real life. &amp;nbsp;He is smaller than The Boy. &amp;nbsp;And he&#39;s also got the acting resume that rivals DeNiro, Pacino and Clooney combined. &amp;nbsp;Talk about finding your niche.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. &amp;nbsp;I cannot tell you how one stays living in L.A. knowing full well an earthquake could hit at any point. I&#39;m living on a damn fault line for god&#39;s sake!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. &amp;nbsp;I cannot tell you how I will have health insurance in a year.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. &amp;nbsp;I cannot tell you if this book I&#39;m writing will get published. &amp;nbsp;I get pretty sick of it and if I am there&#39;s a good chance a publisher will too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here&#39;s what I can tell you-- No matter what happens I wouldn&#39;t trade moving out here for anything. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve learned so much about myself, showbiz, my relationships with others and life in general simply from taking a HUGE leap of faith and relocating to L.A. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s not easy (and by that I mean OH MY GOD THIS IS NOT EASY!) but we did what our guts told us we needed to do to make dreams come true. &amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t always sleep well at night but that&#39;s more with worrying about an earthquake as opposed to the choice we&#39;ve made. &amp;nbsp;And that feels good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Take that old talent agent, Peter. &amp;nbsp;If he could see that awkward and naive young actor now... (well, I don&#39;t think he&#39;d have much of an opinion in all honesty, but you see where I&#39;m going with this). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Okay, back to work!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/3485886626125907193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/3485886626125907193?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/3485886626125907193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/3485886626125907193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/03/riveting-post-here.html' title='Riveting Post Here!'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qk-qq0AaUK-0nHvH_J3zcYqJ-v2DlFlcp7kofRmXg6ix2YrbGOg62y5p8yU8dJoyduMzlqmQ2PehoYQ8n2dwEoS-jRIXWhp1JRzyw3eetvSshsjQX9R_YRgxmnltPYpYTuF_bGcVQOGR/s72-c/downsized_0303011551a.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-783891660615813962</id><published>2011-02-26T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T13:45:36.915-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Non Boy Post"/><title type='text'>Just The Facts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQUEVrHtfivimtHUjTFUy0FKRrCiRF0xGKdrxts5dF7amU35_6SN4bcHzhWqAlj_kPifVxMVkHc0Rtzj1BaNYYzCBCVvhV7-gdexpvCvNHNzyt9lPMWdPV-qZvDCoQreOc11apUTzNgOE/s1600/DSC01214.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQUEVrHtfivimtHUjTFUy0FKRrCiRF0xGKdrxts5dF7amU35_6SN4bcHzhWqAlj_kPifVxMVkHc0Rtzj1BaNYYzCBCVvhV7-gdexpvCvNHNzyt9lPMWdPV-qZvDCoQreOc11apUTzNgOE/s320/DSC01214.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mr. Jarcy play-doh cat originals. &amp;nbsp;Circa February 2011, commissioned by The Boy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;So yesterday I kinda got my credit and debit cards stolen. &amp;nbsp;By kinda I mean I did. &amp;nbsp;Then &quot;I&quot; went to the nearest Target store and bought a $900 iPad. &amp;nbsp;By &quot;I&quot; I mean a man impersonating me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let me explain further...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I went to my Starbuck&#39;s. &amp;nbsp;The place I consider my office and am most creative. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s a fun place. &amp;nbsp;I see a variety of the same familiar faces, some famous, some not at all famous and many aspiring to be famous (that last part is a guess but you&#39;d agree if you saw them). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Which brings me to the man sitting behind me yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You see, he didn&#39;t necessarily strike me as the grande carmel macchiato type. &amp;nbsp;Or even just a straight on venti bold roast type. &amp;nbsp;He was more of the borderline heroin addict type. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s not to say heroin addicts don&#39;t hang out at Starbuck&#39;s, but I remember having this initial reaction to him of &quot;Huh, he seems out of place.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then I told myself to not be judgmental, took a seat near him and --wait for it-- OPENED MY BAG BIG AND WIDE SO THAT HE COULD STEAL MY CREDIT AND DEBIT CARDS OUT OF MY WALLET!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He was oh so friendly to me before, during and after that breach in proper behavior though. &amp;nbsp;He even gave me his seat near the wall so that my computer could be plugged in and wished me a good rest of my day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BECAUSE HE KNEW I WASN&#39;T GONNA HAVE A GOOD REST OF MY DAY!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
An hour later my bank calls to see if I meant to purchase the $961 from Target. &amp;nbsp;I say &quot;No, lemme get my cards out.&quot; &amp;nbsp;And the cards are, OF COURSE, gone. &amp;nbsp;As I continue to talk to the bank rep I begin to get real, real, real paranoid that it was someone who&#39;s still somewhere around me. &amp;nbsp;Or the man calling from New York state as a bank representative. &amp;nbsp;I begin asking him bizarre questions like &quot;Who is this really?&quot; &amp;nbsp;Yes, I really did. &amp;nbsp;Then I tell the writer who is sitting behind me now the whole story --and who I see in Starbuck&#39;s daily-- and out of nowhere say to him, &quot;You didn&#39;t steal my cards...did you?&quot; &amp;nbsp;If an adorable kitten had tottled in the store I would have suspected her too. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I ran home and cancelled all my cards. &amp;nbsp;And then freaked out more. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Which brings me to the Van Nuys Police Department. &amp;nbsp;Let me start off by saying the officers were very kind. &amp;nbsp;Let me finish by saying YOU DON&#39;T WANT TO SPEND YOUR FRIDAY NIGHT AT THE VAN NUYS POLICE DEPARTMENT. &amp;nbsp;Many criminals gettin sprung right before the weekend when I imagined they would be partaking in more illegal activity and finding their way back to jail. &amp;nbsp;Much like a homing pigeon-- released out into the wild, does his job then comes right back to roost and rest up for his next journey out. &amp;nbsp;My favorite criminal was the man who very nonchalantly announced to whoever he was talking to on the phone, &quot;Yeah man, it&#39;s me. &amp;nbsp;So I just got out of jail. &amp;nbsp;Yeah, just now. &amp;nbsp;Hey, how are you?&quot; &amp;nbsp;He said it like I would tell a friend after leaving a yoga class. &amp;nbsp;Almost zen and carefree like. &amp;nbsp;By almost I mean completely. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By the end of the day I was exhausted. &amp;nbsp;And still paranoid. &amp;nbsp;I asked Mr. Jarcy, &quot;Are you somehow behind this? &amp;nbsp;Did you hire a &#39;hit&#39; on me just so I&#39;d curb my spending habits? &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not convinced your clean.&quot; &amp;nbsp;I was joking, of course. &amp;nbsp;I think. &amp;nbsp;It DEFINITELY could have been worse. &amp;nbsp;My boys are safe, I am safe and now I have to blog BECAUSE I CAN&#39;T SHOP FOR A HUMIDIFIER ONLINE!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/783891660615813962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/783891660615813962?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/783891660615813962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/783891660615813962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/02/just-facts.html' title='Just The Facts'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQUEVrHtfivimtHUjTFUy0FKRrCiRF0xGKdrxts5dF7amU35_6SN4bcHzhWqAlj_kPifVxMVkHc0Rtzj1BaNYYzCBCVvhV7-gdexpvCvNHNzyt9lPMWdPV-qZvDCoQreOc11apUTzNgOE/s72-c/DSC01214.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-8770556618756465059</id><published>2011-02-17T00:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T00:37:17.496-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Non Boy Post"/><title type='text'>Damn You, 98! (Keep Going)</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsfSxBHCaiLlb25axf-Nvr277Rsd5KNvuoqZLNv_wYSUhwsm4hPIz6tXcROs3kA4TxdImhdTctYiOrQ-fnTgWtGT012V9zpMLJag5N4Hh5fX4yPXNrxhiRdmQW4-t_L7WPnw2zfYcToKu/s1600/DSC01187.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsfSxBHCaiLlb25axf-Nvr277Rsd5KNvuoqZLNv_wYSUhwsm4hPIz6tXcROs3kA4TxdImhdTctYiOrQ-fnTgWtGT012V9zpMLJag5N4Hh5fX4yPXNrxhiRdmQW4-t_L7WPnw2zfYcToKu/s320/DSC01187.JPG&quot; width=&quot;213&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&quot;My mother fancies herself an author. &amp;nbsp; That&#39;s fine but she better keep careful watch. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m likely to jump out this window as one of my many daredevil tricks if she&#39;s not watching with BOTH eyes at all times.&quot; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So I have written 98 pages to my first novel. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s right, I said first novel. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve got big plans because I really don&#39;t want to work in an office again unless I&#39;ve exhausted all creative employement attempts first. &amp;nbsp;Here&#39;s what I can tell you-- &amp;nbsp;If you find yourself getting to 50 pages or so written of a book, then you might as well keep on going until you reach somewhere around 300. &amp;nbsp;That&#39;s my well thought out plan anyway. &amp;nbsp;And, no, it&#39;s not taking in all the other steps one must pass through to become a published author. &amp;nbsp;If I thought of all that I&#39;d never get past page 1. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have been toiling away (er, by toiling I mean writing) this week, slowly but surely increasing my page count and yet seem to be stuck under the 100 mark. &amp;nbsp;This flirtation with 100 has to end as of tomorrow! &amp;nbsp;It must. &amp;nbsp;I can&#39;t take it. &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s time for 100 to give up his goods to me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For some reason I had the thought that I could DOUBLE my pages by the end of the week. &amp;nbsp;This notion proves how naive and ridiculous I still am, even at the mature age of (insert old lady age here). &amp;nbsp;Hilarious.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/8770556618756465059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/8770556618756465059?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/8770556618756465059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/8770556618756465059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/02/damn-you-98-keep-going.html' title='Damn You, 98! (Keep Going)'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsfSxBHCaiLlb25axf-Nvr277Rsd5KNvuoqZLNv_wYSUhwsm4hPIz6tXcROs3kA4TxdImhdTctYiOrQ-fnTgWtGT012V9zpMLJag5N4Hh5fX4yPXNrxhiRdmQW4-t_L7WPnw2zfYcToKu/s72-c/DSC01187.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-6705742276909786923</id><published>2011-02-14T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T14:57:32.680-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>The Boy&#39;s Birthday Gathering Almost Two Weeks Ago..</title><content type='html'>&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/AVvXsEj377K5td02wiZBChMaNBs7lShPqPXSRftG5PP7NL8leoifOHk9RFlcLKgN69PFTmoaZlXjYea5lI0Q86Yurz0684sloAjx_Ju7aNmFeF463G3PtZzQNILLXjwMOrJjnKWDAJeNacnRUEcq/s1600/DSC01200.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj377K5td02wiZBChMaNBs7lShPqPXSRftG5PP7NL8leoifOHk9RFlcLKgN69PFTmoaZlXjYea5lI0Q86Yurz0684sloAjx_Ju7aNmFeF463G3PtZzQNILLXjwMOrJjnKWDAJeNacnRUEcq/s320/DSC01200.JPG&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;ME: &amp;nbsp;Honey, we&#39;re gonna sing Happy Birthday to you inside!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;BOY: &amp;nbsp;No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;ME: &amp;nbsp;But Mommy brought cupcakes! &amp;nbsp;Don&#39;t you want a cupcake?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;BOY: &amp;nbsp;Mommy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;ME: &amp;nbsp;Yes?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;BOY: &amp;nbsp;Look! &amp;nbsp;Dinosaurs! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;ME: &amp;nbsp;Yes, you have dinosaurs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;BOY: &amp;nbsp;A PINK dinosaur! &amp;nbsp;A GREEN dinosaur!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;ME: &amp;nbsp;Okay, I&#39;ll come back...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&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/AVvXsEjoDEKVxyy6da0dssDFjVGmnshd9JHaEwiHpts9JuiiYmEoNrAdt5asYsu79XI6guY-MRv2MdJsRD8fOdzngh1LXcWaNId9UJMZYj6IvlARtw8_A8uC_Indv4PMkOSkUD-Jnwl23n_17vW0/s1600/DSC01199.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDEKVxyy6da0dssDFjVGmnshd9JHaEwiHpts9JuiiYmEoNrAdt5asYsu79XI6guY-MRv2MdJsRD8fOdzngh1LXcWaNId9UJMZYj6IvlARtw8_A8uC_Indv4PMkOSkUD-Jnwl23n_17vW0/s320/DSC01199.JPG&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;ME: &amp;nbsp;Honey, all the other kids are eating cupcakes now. &amp;nbsp;Wanna come in for a cupcake?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;BOY: &amp;nbsp;No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;ME: &amp;nbsp;Are you sure? &amp;nbsp;Mommy would like to go inside and eat a cupcake too! &amp;nbsp;Or perhaps several.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;BOY: &amp;nbsp;Mommy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;ME: &amp;nbsp;Yes?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;BOY: &amp;nbsp;Mommy! &amp;nbsp;I drive!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;ME: &amp;nbsp;Yes, you&#39;re driving the, er, swing set, aren&#39;t you?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;BOY: &amp;nbsp;Mommy, dinosaur!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;ME: &amp;nbsp;Okay, I&#39;ll come back...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&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/AVvXsEg5vT53-8UK-f767FRv_EXfeZZK1pJ5lUuKpJj2oSEiC2ox5GwIFWCXCVjXuByjprsGHllR2VIFVk6hXoUZQgROrAuCyB5BjuvjqHI6MajwO_jiZeZRYVAxNyE6kkitCYIw2H27WTXzM3q0/s1600/DSC01207.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/AVvXsEg5vT53-8UK-f767FRv_EXfeZZK1pJ5lUuKpJj2oSEiC2ox5GwIFWCXCVjXuByjprsGHllR2VIFVk6hXoUZQgROrAuCyB5BjuvjqHI6MajwO_jiZeZRYVAxNyE6kkitCYIw2H27WTXzM3q0/s320/DSC01207.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;BOY: &amp;nbsp;Mommy?&lt;br /&gt;
ME: &amp;nbsp;Yes?&lt;br /&gt;
BOY: &amp;nbsp;Mommy! &amp;nbsp;A CUP CAKE!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/6705742276909786923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/6705742276909786923?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/6705742276909786923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/6705742276909786923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/02/boys-birthday-gathering-almost-two.html' title='The Boy&#39;s Birthday Gathering Almost Two Weeks Ago..'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj377K5td02wiZBChMaNBs7lShPqPXSRftG5PP7NL8leoifOHk9RFlcLKgN69PFTmoaZlXjYea5lI0Q86Yurz0684sloAjx_Ju7aNmFeF463G3PtZzQNILLXjwMOrJjnKWDAJeNacnRUEcq/s72-c/DSC01200.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-18843346801219559</id><published>2011-02-02T10:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T10:52:18.308-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Non Boy Post"/><title type='text'>Buried</title><content type='html'>My loved ones back in Chicago are digging themselves out of the Great Blizzard of 2011. &amp;nbsp;I am nowhere near Chicago but digging in similar fashion.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I seem to have become buried under my belongings. &amp;nbsp;And thoughts. &amp;nbsp;And addiction to buying my child everything I see. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I could give explanation to the above statement but let&#39;s give a shorthand version--&lt;br /&gt;
Mr. Jarcy went away for a long time for work back in January and it has been very difficult for me to get back into the writing swing. I&#39;m battling thoughts like, &quot;WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?! &amp;nbsp;WHY AM I SPENDING SO MUCH TIME WRITING THIS NOVEL WHEN I WILL THEN HAVE TO WORK MY ASS OFF TO GET IT PUBLISHED AND EVEN THEN PROBABLY ONLY GET $10,000 FOR ALL MY HARD WORK!!!???!?!?!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You know, I should probably just stop with the explanation right there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You may have noticed I&#39;m not blogging nearly as much as well. &amp;nbsp;I start to type something and then battle thoughts like, &quot;WHY AM I SPENDING SO MUCH TIME WRITING THIS BLOG WHEN JUST ABOUT EVERYONE ON THE PLANET EXPERIENCES THE SAME THINGS AT SOME POINT ALONG THE LINE AND THEY REALLY DON&#39;T NEED MY PLAY BY PLAY OF THE VERY NORMAL, DAILY OCCURRENCES NOW DO THEY REALLY????!!!!?&quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, uh, yeah...that explanation probably just stands on its own as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Suffice it to say, the inner turmoil documented above then leads to one predominant thought which is, &quot;YOU BETTER GET MOVING ON THIS WRITING, WOMAN, BECAUSE IF YOU DON&#39;T YOU&#39;RE WASTING THIS PERFECTLY GREAT OPPORTUNITY YOU HAVE LIVING OUT HERE NOW AND WHILE YOUR CHILD IS SMALL AND LIFE ISN&#39;T ALL THAT COMPLICATED BESIDES YOU MOVED FAR, FAR, FAR AWAY FROM YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AND YOU DON&#39;T WANT TO HAVE DONE THAT JUST SO YOU COULD GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS AND MIMIC A SLUG ON YOUR IKEA SOFA NOW DO YOU??????!!!?!?!!!!!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I better just keep shoveling.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/18843346801219559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/18843346801219559?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/18843346801219559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/18843346801219559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/02/buried.html' title='Buried'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-2130349939760962412</id><published>2011-02-01T00:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T10:37:08.814-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>12:26 AM, Take Three</title><content type='html'>&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/AVvXsEh6V9XgDuPy9JlFGBS8CVlG-Gb-b_IE0ogGnKpDwwdmCOmBR3tyNd9BnWHXxZ6W_mwT9zJSs3keKo-mP6cII2SAXNueqZoRcPSB-4fes0WJkC7EmKlXoGArQCWW0xfe1RYsn06zBahCrQQG/s1600/0201091328.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/AVvXsEh6V9XgDuPy9JlFGBS8CVlG-Gb-b_IE0ogGnKpDwwdmCOmBR3tyNd9BnWHXxZ6W_mwT9zJSs3keKo-mP6cII2SAXNueqZoRcPSB-4fes0WJkC7EmKlXoGArQCWW0xfe1RYsn06zBahCrQQG/s320/0201091328.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
This Boy is now officially two years old. &amp;nbsp;Two. &amp;nbsp;TWO! &amp;nbsp;Can you believe it? &amp;nbsp;I can&#39;t. &amp;nbsp;It feels like he&#39;s been around forever and so much has changed since his birth that I&#39;m like, &quot;He&#39;s only two?&quot; &amp;nbsp;Then I look at him again and think, &quot;My baby is now two? &amp;nbsp;How did that happen?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s all very strange. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now he looks like this...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidZGPYTWSfbLxBacy_83FMBAC6qYoqEUEffVALPJfB4FwzuayoGQb3iIE4WPpRSANbe6kHPXejvTJDljN8ptD54VllmnebMY5kBpLLsb16N3OkXW0ngtahtB4MD9gi3TjJ1ZgtfKiSi4Dv/s1600/DSC01153.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidZGPYTWSfbLxBacy_83FMBAC6qYoqEUEffVALPJfB4FwzuayoGQb3iIE4WPpRSANbe6kHPXejvTJDljN8ptD54VllmnebMY5kBpLLsb16N3OkXW0ngtahtB4MD9gi3TjJ1ZgtfKiSi4Dv/s320/DSC01153.JPG&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unbelievable. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Birthday, Boy!!! &amp;nbsp;We love you!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/2130349939760962412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/2130349939760962412?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2130349939760962412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2130349939760962412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/02/1226-am-take-three.html' title='12:26 AM, Take Three'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6V9XgDuPy9JlFGBS8CVlG-Gb-b_IE0ogGnKpDwwdmCOmBR3tyNd9BnWHXxZ6W_mwT9zJSs3keKo-mP6cII2SAXNueqZoRcPSB-4fes0WJkC7EmKlXoGArQCWW0xfe1RYsn06zBahCrQQG/s72-c/0201091328.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-4841307654141551417</id><published>2011-01-27T13:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T13:06:40.838-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>Out With The Old, In With The Toddler Gear</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjliPK75fdhbC93-nOLifbVsd_-EN5t3seuru5ifLDCmQfN-S0IEE7fDxm0EnW6eGjnhx5t95QUVQAUEOrvKVQd65KuaH9IootPy8SW2OZB9CVs33GuwkRjdkZV4nV8-WVZIx-1FQxvFTSJ/s1600/0124011149.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjliPK75fdhbC93-nOLifbVsd_-EN5t3seuru5ifLDCmQfN-S0IEE7fDxm0EnW6eGjnhx5t95QUVQAUEOrvKVQd65KuaH9IootPy8SW2OZB9CVs33GuwkRjdkZV4nV8-WVZIx-1FQxvFTSJ/s320/0124011149.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&quot;I hope Mommy and Daddy realize I&#39;m not actual laundry. &amp;nbsp;They&#39;ve been busy cleaning and organizing our apartment. &amp;nbsp;Mommy says we have to make room for all the gifts coming my way next week when I turn 2.&quot; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/4841307654141551417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/4841307654141551417?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/4841307654141551417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/4841307654141551417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/01/out-with-old-in-with-toddler-gear.html' title='Out With The Old, In With The Toddler Gear'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjliPK75fdhbC93-nOLifbVsd_-EN5t3seuru5ifLDCmQfN-S0IEE7fDxm0EnW6eGjnhx5t95QUVQAUEOrvKVQd65KuaH9IootPy8SW2OZB9CVs33GuwkRjdkZV4nV8-WVZIx-1FQxvFTSJ/s72-c/0124011149.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-6352094888977057923</id><published>2011-01-17T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T14:07:11.177-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>Day 1 Of Nonstop Boy Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;First Night and Partial Day 1 of Single Parenting:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Around midnight, block front door with baby trike so that if someone breaks into our place they will stumble over that first and give us a fighting chance. &amp;nbsp;(Lordy, could I be any more dramatic?)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sleep sporadically throughout the night. &amp;nbsp;Get up to check Boy from video monitor or actual visit into the room several times. &amp;nbsp;(Why more often when his father is away I have no idea.) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wake up to Boy chatting with his toys in his crib at 7:30am. &amp;nbsp;(And thank the universe above that he slept through the night for the second night in a row.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Make breakfast, play, change into clothes. (Alright so just a t-shirt and diaper, not full outfit.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Get instructed by Boy to watch &quot;Woody&quot; and &quot;Buzz.&quot; &amp;nbsp;Turn on Toy Story 3 that I purchased from our cable last night. &amp;nbsp;(Was it for him to watch or me? &amp;nbsp;We both enjoyed.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Get instructed by Boy to stop watching &quot;Woody&quot; and &quot;Buzz&quot; and now to watch &quot;Thomas.&quot; &amp;nbsp;Turn on Thomas video. &amp;nbsp;(Definitely for Boy&#39;s enjoyment, not mine.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Get instructed by Boy to take walk. (YES! &amp;nbsp;Finally! &amp;nbsp;After several attempts to get out and put pants on him I have an opening.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Discover poop affixed to my child&#39;s foot. &amp;nbsp;From him? &amp;nbsp;From cat? &amp;nbsp;WHERE DID THIS COME FROM? &amp;nbsp;(Still haven&#39;t figured that out unfortunately.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wander the neighborhood hand in hand. &amp;nbsp;(My all time favorite activity in life. &amp;nbsp;Ever.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lunch. &amp;nbsp;(PB and J for the billionth time for him, spicy fake chicken buffalo wings for first time for me.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nap. &amp;nbsp;(For him. &amp;nbsp;Blogging, reading and zoning out --mostly zoning out-- for me.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s only 2pm... &amp;nbsp;THE AFTERNOON IS OUR OYSTER!!! &amp;nbsp;(Not really, we&#39;re headed to 24 month check up with Dr. later this afternoon, followed by cocktails shortly thereafter I imagine.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And now, the world is all caught up on the exciting ongoings of Boy and Mama... YOU&#39;RE WELCOME!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/6352094888977057923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/6352094888977057923?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/6352094888977057923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/6352094888977057923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/01/day-1-of-nonstop-boy-party.html' title='Day 1 Of Nonstop Boy Party'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-4506817751375638721</id><published>2011-01-16T23:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T23:20:31.408-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Chicago"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>Death By Thomas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&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/AVvXsEhn9Z-A1XQ2MNGHoP7b8svmpuiOe72mqogwhyhTReeBvdAXhuLGVcEAIkXIr6NWG5q226jj5v-LiFI7Lci-b-rM07_WColeXokjbA4lRtnvkXC3R7SN0cqjScFQSliBihD-zZeG1HDa80fH/s1600/IMG_0974_2.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;237&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9Z-A1XQ2MNGHoP7b8svmpuiOe72mqogwhyhTReeBvdAXhuLGVcEAIkXIr6NWG5q226jj5v-LiFI7Lci-b-rM07_WColeXokjbA4lRtnvkXC3R7SN0cqjScFQSliBihD-zZeG1HDa80fH/s320/IMG_0974_2.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My son loves Thomas the Train. &amp;nbsp;So so so so much. &amp;nbsp;He loves Thomas so much that he took him sledding while we were in Chicago for the holidays. &amp;nbsp;(Refer to Exhibit A above.) &amp;nbsp;He also loves his Giki (the giraffe blanket) as you can see above as well. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now the blanket isn&#39;t too much of a bother when we&#39;re at home. &amp;nbsp;He doesn&#39;t take him out into the world usually (although we&#39;re going to the Dr. tomorrow and Giki will DEFINITELY be joining us). &amp;nbsp;Thomas the Train and all his train, bus, tractor and other modes of transportation friends, however, are a different story. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have a love/hate relationship with all them these days. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One the one hand I love them. &amp;nbsp;They&#39;re pretty harmless and make my child extremely happy. &amp;nbsp;And when he plays with the trains and track set he owns it&#39;s no bother to me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s the videos that are getting to me. &amp;nbsp;The Boy is addicted to Thomas videos. &amp;nbsp;The moment he wakes up he&#39;s talking about Thomas videos. &amp;nbsp;He requests Thomas video viewing. &amp;nbsp;Moments after finishing up an hour of Thomas he will request to watch more. &amp;nbsp;We&#39;ll watch videos we own, videos we can &quot;On Demand&quot; from the cable for free and videos we can purchase from cable for a day&#39;s worth of viewing. &amp;nbsp;We go to a friends house and we all watch more Thomas. &amp;nbsp;Up until the time he goes to bed at night he will want to watch Thomas. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His viewing of Thomas and Friends reached such epic proportions that Mr. Jarcy and I found ourselves humming/singing Thomas theme songs throughout the day. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m also grappling with existential Thomas questions like, &quot;Who&#39;s really in charge--the trains or the drivers?&quot; and &quot;Was Thomas ever a baby? &amp;nbsp;If so, how did he come to be?&quot; There are all these discrepancies like some buses and boats have faces (and therefore souls?) while others do not. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was even waking from sound, deep sleep in the middle of the night with those theme songs affixed to my brain. &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;They&#39;re two, they&#39;re four, they&#39;re six, they&#39;re eight...shunting trucks and hauling freight...red and green and brown and blue...they&#39;re The Very Useful Crew...Thomas! &amp;nbsp;He&#39;s the cheeky one...James! &amp;nbsp;He&#39;s vain but lots of fun!...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once the song takes hold it won&#39;t let go.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m single parenting this week. &amp;nbsp;Mr. Jarcy has found work elsewhere leaving me and The Boy alone. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m going to get us out as much as I can muster with an active toddler but since The Boy doesn&#39;t nap much anymore I&#39;m guessing Thomas videos will be making a strong showing this week. &amp;nbsp;Maybe Mama can rest her eyes while he watches from time to time (often)...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Jeez, the fact this post is the longest I&#39;ve written in ages acts as proof that Thomas has taken over my life.)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/4506817751375638721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/4506817751375638721?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/4506817751375638721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/4506817751375638721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/01/death-by-thomas.html' title='Death By Thomas'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9Z-A1XQ2MNGHoP7b8svmpuiOe72mqogwhyhTReeBvdAXhuLGVcEAIkXIr6NWG5q226jj5v-LiFI7Lci-b-rM07_WColeXokjbA4lRtnvkXC3R7SN0cqjScFQSliBihD-zZeG1HDa80fH/s72-c/IMG_0974_2.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-2809404415483406932</id><published>2011-01-11T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T16:24:58.374-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="L.A."/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Writing"/><title type='text'>Complimentary Productivity</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=&quot;center&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDvImcWLedSHT7WzSCUXZsfmklpt2Bb4ZFvXoFohc9EsY-jHeYVwXZUYlGbnjqueLGiM4Gg5dLhnzS7bxr1knuBqML0yvPGdwSWvv8chFEWZtBVcaC0ySh5X0j5FIQhc1saZP3I2CrmusB/s1600/DSC01153.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDvImcWLedSHT7WzSCUXZsfmklpt2Bb4ZFvXoFohc9EsY-jHeYVwXZUYlGbnjqueLGiM4Gg5dLhnzS7bxr1knuBqML0yvPGdwSWvv8chFEWZtBVcaC0ySh5X0j5FIQhc1saZP3I2CrmusB/s320/DSC01153.JPG&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&quot;Mother, Thomas the train and these little people figurines say I need a haircut!&quot;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve secured a new writing space, which thankfully, does not double as our master bath (although I do come up with creative ideas any time I go in there, it&#39;s kinda weird).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The cafe just steps from our apartment closed back in December, leaving me workspaceless and in utter despair. &amp;nbsp;So where does any person needing a cheap office type space infused with not so cheap beverages head to? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Starbucks, of course.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So far it&#39;s going very well. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve gotten a lot of writing done. &amp;nbsp;Even more importantly, I&#39;ve been told I have not only great hair but also great skin by perfect strangers. &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve gabbed with another stranger about her dissertation and overheard the most interesting conversations ever. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In a nutshell, I LOVE it. &amp;nbsp;And considering there is a steady line for coffee throughout the day--often times practically out the door-- I don&#39;t have to worry about my office, er cafe, closing anytime soon.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/2809404415483406932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/2809404415483406932?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2809404415483406932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/2809404415483406932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/01/complimentary-productivity.html' title='Complimentary Productivity'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDvImcWLedSHT7WzSCUXZsfmklpt2Bb4ZFvXoFohc9EsY-jHeYVwXZUYlGbnjqueLGiM4Gg5dLhnzS7bxr1knuBqML0yvPGdwSWvv8chFEWZtBVcaC0ySh5X0j5FIQhc1saZP3I2CrmusB/s72-c/DSC01153.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6009774567087853396.post-3939415003072805937</id><published>2011-01-04T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T13:52:57.447-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Chicago"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life With Boy"/><title type='text'>A Perfect 10 Under Our Belt, Now On To 11</title><content type='html'>&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/AVvXsEh5CFzyiv4vFt5lCLsiygkkuTNAO27jVOQ2JMAWQPK5qoGijCWSPO34MiBosG-T-UPEXleJ6QamuUwRWOU3BdRLeAe8nzB93fqfDr-0nP3v3a0mzSlYeE3Hry7WgJC0Yvg8DQ7m7QC5rZB5/s1600/downsized_1225001621.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5CFzyiv4vFt5lCLsiygkkuTNAO27jVOQ2JMAWQPK5qoGijCWSPO34MiBosG-T-UPEXleJ6QamuUwRWOU3BdRLeAe8nzB93fqfDr-0nP3v3a0mzSlYeE3Hry7WgJC0Yvg8DQ7m7QC5rZB5/s320/downsized_1225001621.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Hello internet! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took an unintentional hiatus from reporting life as Mrs. Jarcy. &amp;nbsp;I was too busy living in Chicago for 10 days with Boy and Mr. Jarcy. &amp;nbsp;We saw lots of our family and not lots of our friends. &amp;nbsp;Boo! &amp;nbsp;I&#39;m used to being the one still living at home (Chicago area I mean) and friends couldn&#39;t always connect when they came home to visit family. &amp;nbsp;Now I&#39;m one of them. &amp;nbsp;Boo! &lt;br /&gt;
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We enjoyed snow as you can see from above. &amp;nbsp;We ate a ton. &amp;nbsp;We managed to fly across the country and back with our sanity relatively intact. &amp;nbsp;It was really nice. &amp;nbsp;The best part being Boy got to spend so much time with his doting family members. &lt;br /&gt;
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Now we&#39;re back, the sun is out after days of (more) rain and I have a book to write. &amp;nbsp;Boo! &amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve seen a slew of B-D list celebrities out and about, and life has resumed in L.A. for the Jarcys...&lt;br /&gt;
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Happy New Year, everyone! &amp;nbsp;Here&#39;s to making 2011 the very best!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/feeds/3939415003072805937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6009774567087853396/3939415003072805937?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/3939415003072805937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6009774567087853396/posts/default/3939415003072805937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsjarcy.blogspot.com/2011/01/perfect-10-under-our-belt-now-on-to-11.html' title='A Perfect 10 Under Our Belt, Now On To 11'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5CFzyiv4vFt5lCLsiygkkuTNAO27jVOQ2JMAWQPK5qoGijCWSPO34MiBosG-T-UPEXleJ6QamuUwRWOU3BdRLeAe8nzB93fqfDr-0nP3v3a0mzSlYeE3Hry7WgJC0Yvg8DQ7m7QC5rZB5/s72-c/downsized_1225001621.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>