<?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-1863357125112326013</id><updated>2024-10-06T23:46:49.359-05:00</updated><category term="love"/><category term="marriage"/><category term="blog"/><category term="career"/><category term="equals"/><category term="growth"/><category term="happiness"/><category term="honeymoon"/><category term="income"/><category term="job"/><category term="journey"/><category term="life"/><category term="mature"/><category term="memories"/><category term="miss"/><category term="money"/><category term="mrs"/><category term="paycheck"/><category term="phase"/><category term="salary"/><category term="stage"/><category term="success"/><category term="sushi"/><category term="versus"/><title type='text'>My Journey from Miss to Mrs.</title><subtitle type='html'>This is my evolution from a &quot;Miss&quot; single-girl-in-the-city to &quot;Mrs.&quot; wife-with-new-responsibilities-and-adventures! Please join me on this journey of discovering who I was, who I am, and who I am destined to be...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1863357125112326013/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02385268409762446558</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmkTUmPSJ7L_iOXSJkSV8LqgVhl-NF0yC-fLFKbebCsvB-gpFAaHE0smSniF2X37K4R2H-th429oXlwBjFyl-dTL2p427S8sQu6UeSAnUZRKmubNTm3BIbin-OciLEIA/s220/2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863357125112326013.post-8639700076308538956</id><published>2012-02-02T12:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T12:44:32.997-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="honeymoon"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="phase"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stage"/><title type='text'>The Honeymoon Phase</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
My husband and I had dinner with our marriage mentors the other night, and they shared with us that they had taken on another couple. It made me think of when my husband and I had first started meeting with them, and the things I know now that I wish I had known then. Well, out of all of the lessons I’ve learned this first year, the myth about marriage I’d like to dispel the most is the “honeymoon phase.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;I can recall lots of our friends and family members seeing us after the wedding and saying things like, “You two are in the ‘honeymoon phase;’ this is the best time of your life!” &amp;nbsp;And as if on perfect cue, I’d respond immediately by smiling sweetly up at my husband, the perfect picture of a love struck, starry-eyed bride. But on the inside, I was tormented by the fact that I hadn’t felt like we were on the honeymoon, &lt;i&gt;since&lt;/i&gt; our honeymoon. In fact, out of all of the years we had been together, our first year of marriage was the &lt;i&gt;most&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i&gt;unlike&lt;/i&gt; a honeymoon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;We disagreed over just about everything: from claiming personal territory in our home, to divvying up household responsibilities, what we spent our money on, who we spent our time with, where to shop for groceries, to what color to paint the walls. Everything. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with &lt;i style=&quot;mso-bidi-font-style: normal;&quot;&gt;us&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;Sure, we had just finished planning and paying for our wedding while simultaneously purchasing our first home. Couple that with the fact that, because we agreed not to live in the house together until we were married, we were just now settling in. Needless to say, we had two of everything—and of course, we each found it difficult to let go of our own stuff. And the things that didn’t seem to bother us while we were dating were huge issues now. His work schedule never seemed to be an issue, until I found myself at home alone for nights on end. He used to laugh when I would say, “I don’t do dishes,” but this wasn’t funny to him anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;So on our one year anniversary, people finally let us in on the secret. The honeymoon phase may exist, but it’s not during the first year of marriage. In fact, this is usually the hardest year; and if you can make it through the first year, you have a better chance of making it, period. Similar to a new job, it takes about a year to really get things down to a science. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve dated, or even if you’ve lived together before, this is unchartered territory. There are new role and new rules. Each of you will have your own experiences and expectations (for yourselves and each other). It’s a learning process that will set the foundation for the rest of your relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;Take it from someone who’s been there…marriage is like a fine wine (or better yet, my husband’s homemade beer)—it gets better and better with time. &lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/feeds/8639700076308538956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/2012/02/honeymoon-phase.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1863357125112326013/posts/default/8639700076308538956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1863357125112326013/posts/default/8639700076308538956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/2012/02/honeymoon-phase.html' title='The Honeymoon Phase'/><author><name>Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02385268409762446558</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmkTUmPSJ7L_iOXSJkSV8LqgVhl-NF0yC-fLFKbebCsvB-gpFAaHE0smSniF2X37K4R2H-th429oXlwBjFyl-dTL2p427S8sQu6UeSAnUZRKmubNTm3BIbin-OciLEIA/s220/2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863357125112326013.post-409491279248761591</id><published>2011-03-26T20:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T12:46:18.866-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="career"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="equals"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happiness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="income"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="job"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="money"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="paycheck"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="salary"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="success"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sushi"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="versus"/><title type='text'>Success --  Money versus Happiness</title><content type='html'>I had the best conversation with my mom today (there&#39;s somthing so comforting about talking to my mom sometimes...it seems the older I get, the better the understanding is between us. Talking to her feels like talking to my oldest friend who knows me better than anyone else -- like rereading my favorite novel; I know what to expect and there&#39;s comfort in that consistency). We don&#39;t talk what most would consider &quot;often,&quot; but when we do we discuss any and everything. We stay on the phone for an hour or two (which is forever to me) but it doesn&#39;t feel that way. &lt;br /&gt;
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I told my mom I was starting&amp;nbsp;a blog and had narrowed it down to two ideas. Either an all-emcompassing detailed account of what&#39;s relevant to my life right now as I learn to navigate through my newly married status or a food blog. She seemed to be really into the latter, and&amp;nbsp;I think I just may do both. This is a side note, but I absolutely head over heels in LOVE with food -- I love eating, I love trying new things, I love cooking, I love making things that look just as pretty as they taste, and I love the feeling I get when I watch someone enjoy something I&#39;ve prepared. Just writing about food makes me smile to myself. In fact, when my husband I were just dating we used to have &quot;food wars&quot; where we would agree on a certain type of food, gather our ingredients at the grocery store and then see who could make the best dish. The winner was determined based on taste, appearance, and creativity. Even though cooking is more my thing, I have to admit, my hubby&#39;s skills are pretty impressive. Below are some pics from our sushi challenge. I bet you can&#39;t guess which is mine and which is his!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRihNBWvbVsbobJu4YhBVHfskmsUk7oI0Mzr5Pxatd95rqGbTu_3pBLnQBtu9BqKjb7p_ZV2lkWPSeEVye9LfYfYZFa5wokLWPUkBXWZCGaFl6CCeOJQQrUPaTNVvKs0ILqzEuUzXeGY5b/s1600/ant_sushi%2521.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; r6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRihNBWvbVsbobJu4YhBVHfskmsUk7oI0Mzr5Pxatd95rqGbTu_3pBLnQBtu9BqKjb7p_ZV2lkWPSeEVye9LfYfYZFa5wokLWPUkBXWZCGaFl6CCeOJQQrUPaTNVvKs0ILqzEuUzXeGY5b/s320/ant_sushi%2521.jpg&quot; width=&quot;298&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFK6uCkzrsS4kK3k53bbANarufBvVaimUk2hXMHNd-DxN59CNs6FZfiDGWQykYnd9D_5ioXnnYSHM5Kr16dIOy7RYf_dK1wYdGxDQBVGsnkmyxW3zyLbjdcnNDYpMPaUYA3ZBBQnHTNvzZ/s1600/ky_sushi.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; r6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFK6uCkzrsS4kK3k53bbANarufBvVaimUk2hXMHNd-DxN59CNs6FZfiDGWQykYnd9D_5ioXnnYSHM5Kr16dIOy7RYf_dK1wYdGxDQBVGsnkmyxW3zyLbjdcnNDYpMPaUYA3ZBBQnHTNvzZ/s320/ky_sushi.jpg&quot; width=&quot;298&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Which brings me to what my mom and I were talking about, the&amp;nbsp;opportunity to earn an income&amp;nbsp;doing something you love. I want to know who ever came up with the definition of what it means to be successful? Like, who says that a college degree is &quot;standard&quot; and a big paycheck equals success? Sometimes I feel like I am in a rat race to earn more, spend more, earn MORE, spend MORE, etc. As a single twenty something working for a non-profit many people assumed I was getting peanuts thrown at me, when in actuality I was making quite a bit more money than all of my friends. Now that I am married, and my paycheck is coupled with my husband&#39;s, we are doing quite well for ourselves. Even so, we aren&#39;t happy.&lt;br /&gt;
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I can recall looking at my paycheck back in my college days and thinking, &quot;Wow, if I could just bring home $300 more each month, I&#39;d be so happy!&quot; The funny thing is -- I&#39;m not. And it&#39;s not just the amount of money I make, it&#39;s the fact that I don&#39;t feel fulfilled. I&#39;ve got to believe that there are people out there who actually enjoy going to work everyday, so much so that it doesn&#39;t feel like a job. &lt;br /&gt;
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Don&#39;t get me wrong, my husband and I are grateful to have our jobs, as they afford us a certain lifestyle, however, in my heart of hearts I have the suspicion that I would gladly accept my college paycheck if I could do what I love everyday for the rest of my life. Something I&#39;d never have to retire from because I would continue to do it whether or not I was getting paid. &lt;br /&gt;
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When you read stories about people who are wildly successful,&amp;nbsp; (and by wildly I mean they are at the top of their game in their field) nine times out ten it&#39;s because they are doing something they love. I know that if I commit to doing something that I enjoy, the sky is the limit on how far I could take it/how much money I can make/how happy I could be/and how much success I could have.&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m not sure if I am ready to just up and quit my job yet, but I am willing to say that starting today, I am going to make an effort to commit to doing the things in life that make me happy. On that note, I am going to go cook something.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/feeds/409491279248761591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/2011/03/success-money-versus-happiness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1863357125112326013/posts/default/409491279248761591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1863357125112326013/posts/default/409491279248761591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/2011/03/success-money-versus-happiness.html' title='Success --  Money versus Happiness'/><author><name>Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02385268409762446558</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmkTUmPSJ7L_iOXSJkSV8LqgVhl-NF0yC-fLFKbebCsvB-gpFAaHE0smSniF2X37K4R2H-th429oXlwBjFyl-dTL2p427S8sQu6UeSAnUZRKmubNTm3BIbin-OciLEIA/s220/2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRihNBWvbVsbobJu4YhBVHfskmsUk7oI0Mzr5Pxatd95rqGbTu_3pBLnQBtu9BqKjb7p_ZV2lkWPSeEVye9LfYfYZFa5wokLWPUkBXWZCGaFl6CCeOJQQrUPaTNVvKs0ILqzEuUzXeGY5b/s72-c/ant_sushi%2521.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1863357125112326013.post-180426621435600168</id><published>2011-03-25T14:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T12:47:23.748-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="growth"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="journey"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mature"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="memories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="miss"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mrs"/><title type='text'>The Inspiration for this Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I have been inside my new house for about five months now, and I still have boxes that have yet to be unpacked sitting in my garage (&lt;em&gt;ahem...my husband&#39;s soon to be &quot;man room&quot; that he ever so subtly reminds me of on a weekly basis&lt;/em&gt;). I read in a magazine once, that if you can keep something packed away for six months or more without missing it, or without recalling exactly what&#39;s inside, you can safely assume that it&#39;s time to toss it. I would love to justify my own five months waiting period as means to get rid of some of my things from my former life as a &quot;Miss,&quot; but honestly, I just haven&#39;t made time to do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;In fact the only time I really go out there is to rummage through things, searching for a &lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;specific&lt;/span&gt; item &lt;em&gt;(my closed-toed snake print heels that make me look mature yet oh so fashionable, or a bottle of red wine left over from our wedding to make some sangria to enjoy with dinner)&lt;/em&gt;. Sometimes in life though, the things you find that you weren&#39;t looking for, are the things you end up needing the most.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;A few nights ago, I was hurriedly searching for my suit blazer &lt;em&gt;(which, I ended up not needing)&lt;/em&gt; and I stumbled across an old journal I kept when I had just moved to Texas and started school. Reading it completely took me back to where I was when I wrote it. I got knots in my throat as I browsed through the not-so-good days and felt my lips involuntarily forming a smile as I recalled the better days. The words on the page were strange, yet familiar at the same time.&amp;nbsp;This person was not who I am anymore. This person was a teenager, unsure of her future, and away from home for the first time in her life. This person woke up everyday wondering if she had made the right decision to come all the way to Texas for school &lt;em&gt;(or if her mother would ever forgive her for this decision)&lt;/em&gt;. This person didn&#39;t really know what she wanted out of life, not specifically, and had no plan to get there. This person often questioned who she was, her personality, sense of humor, way of thinking, and stifled these characteristics in order to&amp;nbsp;camouflage her differences&amp;nbsp;with her surroundings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Seven years later, this is not who I am. I&#39;m self-assured, mature, a home owner, decisive, newly married, comfortable in my own skin...happy &lt;em&gt;(not to mention I have a plan for just about everything in my life -- just ask my hubby)&lt;/em&gt;. As strange as this may sound, every now and then I need a good reminder of how far I&#39;ve come. The &quot;present&quot; doesn&#39;t always seem like a gift until you are reminded of your past &lt;em&gt;(that&#39;s all me -- quote me on it).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Which brings me to why I finally decided to start this blog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Life is happening all around us. We are constantly changing, evolving, and being made better. Life&#39;s diversities are continuously chipping away at us in an effort to whittle a masterpiece. The older I get, however, I am realizing that the beauty is not in the finished product, but rather in the journey. I have only been married a short five months and what a journey it&#39;s been already! This blog will be a way for me to document my life in the present, for me to&amp;nbsp;r&lt;span style=&quot;mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;&quot;&gt;eminisce&lt;/span&gt; on seven years from now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I invite you all to join me on this trip from &quot;&lt;em&gt;Miss&lt;/em&gt;&quot; to &quot;&lt;em&gt;Mrs.&quot;&lt;/em&gt; and everything that comes with it. I will share everything with you -- &lt;strong&gt;the good&lt;/strong&gt; (recipes I am perfecting, budgeting tips I pick up,&amp;nbsp;my favorite things, quotes I love), &lt;strong&gt;the bad&lt;/strong&gt; (the trials and tribulations of newlywed-dom) &lt;strong&gt;and the ugly&lt;/strong&gt; (food for thought on things I&#39;ve been through or learned the hard way).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;-- K.A.T.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Disclaimer: I am a writer at heart, so I tend to ramble at times... My husband says I go on and on, but I am a visual person, and I am trying to paint a picture with my words. Just to be clear, this blog will probably be full of these &quot;long, detailed pictures.&quot; Don&#39;t say I didn&#39;t warn you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/feeds/180426621435600168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/2011/03/inspiration-for-this-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1863357125112326013/posts/default/180426621435600168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1863357125112326013/posts/default/180426621435600168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://myjourneyfrommisstomrs.blogspot.com/2011/03/inspiration-for-this-blog.html' title='The Inspiration for this Blog'/><author><name>Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02385268409762446558</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmkTUmPSJ7L_iOXSJkSV8LqgVhl-NF0yC-fLFKbebCsvB-gpFAaHE0smSniF2X37K4R2H-th429oXlwBjFyl-dTL2p427S8sQu6UeSAnUZRKmubNTm3BIbin-OciLEIA/s220/2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>