<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Thu, 16 Feb 2012 15:55:18 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>randomness</category><category>blog challenge</category><category>Prancer</category><category>me</category><category>Don</category><category>12 of 12</category><category>Elphaba</category><category>mood disorder otherwise unspecified</category><category>movies</category><category>Theo</category><category>books</category><category>infertility</category><category>simon</category><category>happy mail</category><category>mice</category><category>crafts</category><category>Basil</category><category>rats</category><category>home</category><category>Life</category><category>dreams</category><category>websites</category><category>baby</category><category>Garlic</category><category>family</category><category>Eat</category><category>house</category><category>pesto</category><category>bipolar</category><category>Nigel</category><category>health</category><category>work</category><category>pregnancy</category><category>adoption</category><category>friends</category><title>Somebody said that once....Oh yeah, it was me.</title><description /><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>75</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/SomebodySaidThatOnceohYeahItWasMe" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="somebodysaidthatonceohyeahitwasme" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-7800633483222988536</guid><pubDate>Mon, 24 Jan 2011 04:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-01-23T22:39:00.865-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">infertility</category><title>Sometimes I ....</title><description>*feel really selfish.&lt;br /&gt;
*have mean thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;
*want to say to people "YEAH! I get it! You have a baby!  BLECH!"&lt;br /&gt;
*feel bad for having those thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;
*laugh when people say they plan on getting pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;
*cry when it actually happens when they wanted it to.&lt;br /&gt;
*wonder if I'm always going to be like this or if it will get better.&lt;br /&gt;
*don't want to wake up because in my dreams I have a baby.&lt;br /&gt;
*get really mad when people who have children have a loss and they seem to forget that they still have another child.&lt;br /&gt;
*feel bad that I thought that, too.&lt;br /&gt;
*eat my emotions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-7800633483222988536?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2011/01/sometimes-i.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-217974703793347874</guid><pubDate>Sun, 09 Jan 2011 01:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-01-08T19:08:49.182-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">infertility</category><title>Don't You Like Kids?</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;I think what really hurts, or at least greatly adds to the hurt, of being infertile is the status being a mother has. Even I do it, or did it until I knew better. You know, ask someone when you meet them or see them again or whatever.... "So, do you have kids?" I try to no longer do that. Sometimes I do. It depends on my day. But what really makes me mad is the response I get from people when I say no or when I say I have a stepdaughter. "Why not?" "What are you waiting for?"&lt;br /&gt;"Don't you&lt;em&gt; like&lt;/em&gt; kids?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep. That's it. I hate kids. What a weird question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the pity look.  The &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;LOOK&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; that they give when they find out you don't have kids. "Awww, she'll never know the fullfillment and richness being a mother brings." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OR.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "You don't want kids anyways." comment.    I can't decide which one makes me more mad.  I don't have to decide (I can hear my Mom, "Is that something you really need to decide?")  but that's not what I mean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told yesterday that I should just start saying I'll pray for them.  She meant a specific person about a different thing, but hey, it could work for this, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-217974703793347874?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2011/01/dont-you-like-kids.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-1616075792988700592</guid><pubDate>Sat, 08 Jan 2011 07:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-01-08T01:42:04.447-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">me</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">randomness</category><title>Heavy Heart and Mind</title><description>I don't know where to start.   I lost two classmates in the past three weeks.  It makes me sad and pensive.  One fought long and hard to keep living and she died of brain cancer.   The other took his own life.  I know of four people that have committed suicide in the past few weeks.  Not all of them personally, but I know people that it effects.   Suicide hits me in a hard way because of my personal struggles and those of people close to me.  I am afraid to say too much, so I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know so many people some sort of cancer right now.  My Grandpa has leukemia for one.  Other friends, coworkers and acquaintances have cancer or someone in their life does.   It's so sad, and yet I know these types of things were foretold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a girl I know of that just had an abortion.  I know people who intentionally drink or smoke or do drugs to have low birth weights or because they don't care.   Where I, and so many other ladies, would (and have) done anything to be a mother.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just been so sad and down lately.  Even though I don't (and never have) celebrate holidays, the winter months bum me out.  Whether it be because of SAD or because of the sappy commercials, movies, tv shows or maybe just because of all the hype of family time and togetherness and my family lives so far away, I just don't know.   I don't feel like doing much, but then I cry because I'm not doing anything.  I do stuff and then I wish I was at home.  Ugh.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know my point.  Life and death and family and loving and missing people are all on my mind.   I'm such a sentimental person anyways, but it's been amplified by all the recent events.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-1616075792988700592?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2011/01/heavy-heart-and-mind.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-2274009665169746316</guid><pubDate>Wed, 20 Oct 2010 03:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-10-19T23:01:13.147-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">randomness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">adoption</category><title>I Wish I Knew How to Google Everything All the Time</title><description>I try to Google certain phrases and try to "beat the system".  Sometimes,though, I feel like I might be missing the boat because I am not searching the correct phrase.   Tonight I am wanting to search out adoption rules.  I don't know how to search the exact thing I am looking for though.  HA!  I'll let you know if I figure it out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-2274009665169746316?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-wish-i-knew-how-to-google-everything.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-5284387893905894292</guid><pubDate>Sat, 16 Oct 2010 16:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-10-16T11:43:19.011-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">randomness</category><title>Weirdo.  Yes, me!</title><description>There are so many reasons why I'm a weirdo.  The one that has been on my mind lately is how I am regarding business matters.  The small towns around here remind everyone to "shop locally" for holidays and back to school shopping.  Well, anything really.  They continuously do "I Shop Locally" punch cards that shoppers turn in for a random drawing of Chamber Dollars.  As hard as I try to do that, it doesn't work as I am not only long, I'm big and have huge feet.  Plus, it's just more fun to go to Mankato.  :)  We go maybe once a month, but usually every couple of months. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does this relate to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always had the same idea with friends and their businesses.  So, if I have someone saying, "Where do I get my house cleaned?" I know a smattering of people to recommend.  "Who can I call to get my windshield repaired?"  I know just the place!  "What's a good place for lunch?"  Funny you should ask!  "I need a really cute accessory for my wedding/graduation/next Tuesday."  OOOH!  You don't say!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggest friends' blogs to other people, I tell my customers where to find great things for their upcoming big events.  I like to be a great networking spot for my customers.  I know videographers, florists, reception locations, caterers, DJs, etc, etc, etc.  Not only do I know who to call, I know who NOT to call as well.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, why don't people return the favor?  Why aren't they following my blog, Twitter, whatever?  Why don't they have me do their photographs instead of having someone else?  *sigh*  It just kind of hurts to see their posts, blogs, hear them talk about it, etc, and I just wonder, "Did they even THINK of me?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not even sure how to say anything.  "Um....so, uh, is there a reason why you didn't go with me?"  Awkward.  Nope.  Can't do it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Next time I'd love to be a part of your _____!"   Hmmm, that could be better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what?  It kinda makes me want to say NOTHING next time someone asks me for a place to go.  "Go to McDonalds for lunch, Target for your shopping needs and buy some Spin n Span for your house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I get a graduation invitation from someone...ugh.&lt;br /&gt;Every time I see a portrait on their wall.&lt;br /&gt;Every time I hear they have a new website.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this just a weirdo Cat thing?  Or would you feel the same way?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-5284387893905894292?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/10/weirdo-yes-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-7957164562439487080</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Oct 2010 17:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-10-10T14:08:21.450-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">dreams</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">randomness</category><title>Dreams are Funny</title><description>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;According to my dreams last nights.....&lt;br /&gt;...People stand in the river on either side of the bridge dressed as the Statue of Liberty in different outfits and poses.&lt;br /&gt;....in that group, my name would be "Ida" And not "Eyeda", as the little Statue of Liberty boy told me, "Eye DUHHHHHH".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.nndb.com/people/300/000130907/bryan-cranston-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 447px; height: 612px;" src="http://www.nndb.com/people/300/000130907/bryan-cranston-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND.....Bryan Cranston is a good kisser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um. Yeah.  I don't know where any of that came from.  I wish I could draw, or sculpt, or something to show you what the Statues of Liberty were wearing. Of course there were some who were really good and hardcore about it.  Seamless, flawless garb and costumery.  Then there were the people with sweaty white face paint who were twitchy and wouldn't/couldn't hold a pose.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-7957164562439487080?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/10/dreams-are-funny.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-7054900654490752522</guid><pubDate>Tue, 05 Oct 2010 18:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-10-05T13:16:40.928-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Don</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">me</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">randomness</category><title>Small Town?  Nahhhh.</title><description>As per the census ten years ago, the population of my town is 3,515.  Who knows?  We could be up to 3.600 now with the new count.  :)  It's one of those everyone-knows-everyone-even-if-they-don't-know-it kind of towns.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After work today I went to one of the thrift stores in town to check out yarn and whatever little goodies could be in there.  I gathered my things and brought them to the register.  Older volunteer lady rings me up and tells me the total.  I write out my check (so small they don't do debit and I rarely carry cash) and she takes it and looks at it and starts to read it all, "Do you...Oh, here's your phone number...Is everything current?"  "Yes, Ma'am."  "How do you say your last name?"  "Manchack."  "Manchack?  Hmmm.....Manchack.  That's a new name."  Smiles.  "We've lived here for almost five years now."  "Oh, really?  Hmmmm....."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanted to tell her that I've been in there several times before.  I have no idea if she's been in there or not....I don't really pay attention to the ladies as they all stand in a cluster and talk amongst themselves and don't really pay attention to the customers.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I told her we bought Chuck's house, and if I were a betting person, I'd bet you $10 she'd know whose house I bought, where we lived then, and "something" about us.  It's one of those crazy towns where people know you by the car you drive, the house color, who your neighbor is, or the sequence of the last few owners.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My hometown had a population of 18,351 at the 2000 census.  I'd say with college kids, etc, it was well over that.  The town I work in is 13,594.   They're nowhere near big cities.  But still everyone knows a lot of people.  I didn't like living in Houston because people are rude and show no compassion towards others.  I didn't figure it out until Don moved up here that the reason is they just don't care.   Don had mentioned something about how he kept seeing the same person or their car or something like that.  I was like, "Uh...yeah?"  Then it hit me.  They're never going to see someone again, so who cares how you treat them?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So Houston/big cities=I don't care for lack of niceness.   Small town=weirdos knowing your business even though you don't know them.  Creeps me out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was shooting a wedding once and the people at the table were telling me that we're their neighbors.  Cool.  "So where do you live?", I ask.   "Around the corner on Elm."  "Which house?"  "The brick one."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um.  So you can know exactly where I live and whatnot, but I can't know where you live?  Creepy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-7054900654490752522?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/10/small-town-nahhhh.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-6889063044966433405</guid><pubDate>Sat, 25 Sep 2010 04:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-09-24T23:04:18.568-05:00</atom:updated><title>And This is Why I Love Her</title><description>"all humans are part dragon, we like our horde.. we don't like it messed with, some have tiny hordes, some have scary houses... either way we feel the same about them"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking with &lt;a href="http://megzymuses.blogspot.com/"&gt;Megzy&lt;/a&gt; about my pack rat issues..... She has such a sense of things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-6889063044966433405?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/09/and-this-is-why-i-love-her.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-4833499650438356678</guid><pubDate>Fri, 24 Sep 2010 17:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-09-24T12:45:44.103-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">randomness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><title>Hug A Vegetarian Day!</title><description>Who knew this day existed?  Perhaps I did, and I forgot.  I think this is cute.   My sister has been a vegetarian for 15 years now.  Or 14?  She's awesome.  Here's me and my veggie sister...we're not hugging, but we're in close proximity to each other and we're smiling.:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taken 05/03/2009 in Florida.  I forget what the place was called.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/TJzjPZ-uxRI/AAAAAAAAAVs/X1ttwikFcQs/s1600/FILE0066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/TJzjPZ-uxRI/AAAAAAAAAVs/X1ttwikFcQs/s400/FILE0066.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520537097060926738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-4833499650438356678?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/09/hug-vegetarian-day.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/TJzjPZ-uxRI/AAAAAAAAAVs/X1ttwikFcQs/s72-c/FILE0066.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-4896634595999660654</guid><pubDate>Thu, 23 Sep 2010 03:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-09-22T22:49:34.580-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Don</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">me</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">health</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">infertility</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">baby</category><title>How To Explain My Feelings: I am a Jerk</title><description>Infertility effects everyone differently.  So do miscarriages.  I have known many women personally going through infertility and they all have different, but similar, outlooks on it.  Their spouses all react differently as well.  Don is supportive of me, and has hopes and dreams for children, too.  I still feel like he doesn't really &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;get&lt;/span&gt; it.  And it's partially my fault since I clam up rather than talk about it.  Men are fixers and women are listeners.  I vent to my women friends and talk to Don not nearly enough on this situation.  I need to fix that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think one of the bigger factors is that, like someone once told me, "ANYONE can have a baby."   Well, obviously not.  But still.  I watch 19 Kids &amp; Counting on occasion, Teen Mom, &lt;a href="http://tlc.discovery.com/guides/family/tlc-baby-block/a-baby-story/a-baby-story.html"&gt;A Baby Story&lt;/a&gt;, I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant, etc, etc, etc.  I remember girls getting pregnant when we were in 7th grade.  I watch the news about&lt;a href="http://www.eurweb.com/?p=44215"&gt; people killing their babies&lt;/a&gt; because they didn't want to be harassed by their parents anymore.  Etc, etc, etc.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not like I feel like I'm less of a woman necessarily.  It's more like I feel incomplete and not capable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at times, I don't feel understood.  I think some people think I'm whiny.  Hey, at times, I might be!  But these tend to be the same people who "decide" to have a baby and get pregnant that next month. I still get the comments saying that I don't &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;REALLY&lt;/span&gt; want a baby.  They're so.much.work.  They poop, they cry, they spit up, you can't go out anymore, etc, etc.   Grow up, folks.  This isn't anything new.  I'm pretty sure I know the mechanics of a baby and how it'll all go down.  Guess what?  I've been around kids my entire life and started babysitting when I was 8.  I know that babysitting isn't the same.  But I also know parents who became parents without ever having even held a baby.  I've got one up on you there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The medications and procedures I've gone through so far are NOTHING compared to what there could be in store in the future.  But, I gotta tell you, they haven't been fun either.  It's the getting my hopes up part that is really rough.  I had an &lt;a href="http://www.webmd.com/infertility-and-reproduction/guide/hysterosalpingogram-21590"&gt;HSG&lt;/a&gt; in March and I was told that we needed to "really try hard" that month as a high number of women get pregnant after an HSG as the tubes are "nice and clear".  Man, did that not feel good at all.  It was weird.  And let me stop you right there.  For those of you thinking, "Oh, but if you thought THAT was bad-just wait until you have a baby!"  I get what you're saying.  Now listen to me.  When you go through labor and delivery, generally you get to keep the fruits of your labor.  I know this isn't always the case, sadly, but please, oh please, don't mock me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had it all planned out.  We were going to Florida for my sister's wedding reception and I was thinking about how all of my family (almost) would be there.  My parents, my sister and brother in law, my brother, my cousins and aunt and uncle..... and I could tell them all at once.  In person.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't thrown up in 6 years.  I was nauseous to smells and tastes.  Even textures.  My breasts were sore, and I was tired.   My temperature was remaining elevated!  I was so giddy, but wasn't trying to get my hopes up (yeah, right).  I took tests and they were negative....finally got my period, and so on and so on.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When meeting with my new therapist for the first or second time we started to discuss this rather large weight on my shoulders.  And she asked about my miscarriage.  I told her about it and said that I would've had a 6 year old now.  I bawled pretty hard thinking about my child that would be in Kindergarten.  The birthday would've been past the 5 year old mark.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found out another baby in the family is on it's way.  That's two in the next 6 months or so.  I am happy.  Very happy for them.  Again though, dagger in my heart.  I feel like a jerk for being jealous.  I am a jerk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-4896634595999660654?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/09/how-to-explain-my-feelings-i-am-jerk.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-5271833091386011631</guid><pubDate>Wed, 22 Sep 2010 04:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-09-21T23:10:50.905-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Don</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">pregnancy</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">me</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">infertility</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">baby</category><title>Root Beer Pops, Fudge Pops, I'll Pop You in the Face...</title><description>Last night Don texted me to pick up a few things after my shift.  Cool. I run to HyVee to get those said items.  Lunch meat, chips, salsa.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HyVee has their meat/cheese aisle next to their frozen foods.  So as I am perusing the joys of Oscar Mayer, I overhear this delightful conversation between two girls and a guy.  All three probably not even 17.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl #1- "What do you want?  I don't know what I want.  Maybe Root Beer Pops?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy-  "I don't care, whatever you want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl #1- "I don't care.  Whatever &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; want!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl #2 giggles.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl #1- Squeals with delight.  "OOOOH!  &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;FUDGE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; pops!  But, whatever you want, baby."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy- "Whatever you want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl #2 giggles and smiles at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl #1- "I don't know!  I can't decide!  I &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;HATE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; being pregnant!  NO!  &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, I hate being pregnant!  This sucks &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;SO BAD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to be honest.   Besides rolling my eyes over the stupid conversation, I kinda wanted to ask her if she actually wanted the baby.  If not, I'd trade her some Root Beer Pops &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;AND&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Fudge Pops for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-5271833091386011631?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/09/root-beer-pops-fudge-pops-ill-pop-you.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-8083127261881945548</guid><pubDate>Tue, 21 Sep 2010 18:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-09-21T13:57:41.295-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><title>You Should Be an "English Teacher"</title><description>Today I had quite the lovely of loveliest conversations.  Well, not really.  That was me trying to put a positive spin on it.  I do think it was amusing though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He:  "I don't know what you think about Willmar, but my cousin started using drugs as soon as he went there for college."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "That was his choice, not the city's choice.  I lived there most of my life and I've never done drugs."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He:  "I guess."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get that certain towns can have certain reputations.  I get that, I really do.  However, it's just like any other stereotype or prejudiced situation.  Generally, it doesn't apply to everyone.  Just a few who make a bad name for the whole deal.  My current town is nicknamed "Sleazy Eye" by the surrounding towns.  Well, again, I know that most of the people in this town are not sleazy.  They're old.  Ew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second conversation with same person that amused me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were playing Phase 10.   I was winning.  Well, not really.  I was able to complete a phase and discard before he was able to lay his phase down.  I was referred to as a cheater.  Um, no, sorry sir.  I was behind you a phase for a couple rounds.  Then I caught up and surpassed you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He:  "That's it.  I redrawl."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "......what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He:  "I redrawl!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Withdrawl?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He:  "Whatever.  Geez, Cat.  You should be an 'English Teacher'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to point out that air quotes weren't necessary in that sentence, but I decided that it was probably a moot point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-8083127261881945548?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/09/you-should-be-english-teacher.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-4920094518850777997</guid><pubDate>Thu, 16 Sep 2010 04:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-09-15T23:36:39.921-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">dreams</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">infertility</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">baby</category><title>Vacancy Available</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/TJGer8W32dI/AAAAAAAAAVk/kk1yMFrn8zs/s1600/vacancy.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/TJGer8W32dI/AAAAAAAAAVk/kk1yMFrn8zs/s400/vacancy.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517365496279194066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know way too many babies being born right now.  Don't get me wrong, I am happy for all the mothers and fathers.  But it still bums me out on a daily basis, multiple times a day.  I feel happier for those who have been trying and had issues in the past like Don and me.  It gives me hope.  For those who conceive without worry or work, it makes me jealous.  Yes, I said it.  Sometimes I even am bitter for a day or two or three.  Congratulations to you all.  Now let me go and cry myself to sleep.  I will dream weird dreams where I do have a baby and I still work at CashWise and I keep the baby under the register.  Or where I don't know that I'm pregnant until I have the baby and I strap the naked baby to the seat and then walk around Target buying baby supplies while carrying a naked baby.  Or where I am nursing and then I realize that I don't even have a baby and then I wonder whose baby this is.  Or maybe I'll dream that one recurring dream where I find lots and lots of change under a pop machine.  Ooooh.  That one is fun, too.  I make out like a bandit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-4920094518850777997?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/09/vacancy-available.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/TJGer8W32dI/AAAAAAAAAVk/kk1yMFrn8zs/s72-c/vacancy.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-6920260244321640714</guid><pubDate>Mon, 13 Sep 2010 09:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-09-13T04:28:03.395-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">work</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">mood disorder otherwise unspecified</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">friends</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><title>Really</title><description>I need to be better at blogging.  It'd help if I had readers and I didn't feel like I was just talking to myself.  Wait. I do have readers.  I see them on my blog tracker thingy.  I don't have commenters.  Sometimes I get comments, but I don't allow them for reasons previously stated.  I am repeating myself, yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing more and more photo shoots lately.  Then the winter will come and I will be bummed because I'm not getting calls as often as I was.  Every winter I forget &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; I'm not getting calls.  Apparently not everyone thinks it's fun to shoot in the snow when it's -20.  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still working on losing weight.  I'm down a few more pounds.  I'm glad I've started to finally realize that you can't lose weight all at once.  You have to lose 2 pounds to get up to 10 pounds to get up to 40 pounds, etc.  I think the reality weight loss shows finally drilled it into my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been making cards lately.  Have I been sending them?  No.  Have I been posting them on my crafting site?  No.  Yeah, I'm all together awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been so tired and lackluster.  I am not finding joy in the things that bring me joy.  I also haven't been taking my pills.  :-|   I keep forgetting.  Yeah, ironic, I know.  I am seeing a new therapist and I like her a lot.  I think I've gone 3 or 4 times now.  She's good.  Hopefully she won't move, quit or retire like the others.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next month I'm taking a client to Florida.  While I'm there I will be able to see my family.  Then my family will be coming to Minnesota the next week.  :-)  Yay for me!  I need some family time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I can't think of too much else right now.  I'm just not feeling very peppy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-6920260244321640714?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/09/really.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-5291771297787557869</guid><pubDate>Tue, 20 Jul 2010 19:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-07-20T14:15:02.384-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Elphaba</category><title>Elphaba!</title><description>Saturday we finally did what we've been talking about for a long time.  We got a ferret!  She was born between March 21-27 so she's about 3.5 months old.  The lady said Elphaba actually chose us, and I believe her.  Elfie got a crash course in bonding on the way home from St. Cloud and man, do we love her so much already!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/TEX1kMhwznI/AAAAAAAAARI/CacqQB0fSHQ/s1600/IMG_9341.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/TEX1kMhwznI/AAAAAAAAARI/CacqQB0fSHQ/s400/IMG_9341.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496068922462490226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOOK AT THAT FACE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-5291771297787557869?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/07/elphaba.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/TEX1kMhwznI/AAAAAAAAARI/CacqQB0fSHQ/s72-c/IMG_9341.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-2619688678338202704</guid><pubDate>Sat, 03 Jul 2010 17:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-07-03T12:36:19.759-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">infertility</category><title>Pshhhhh!  That's not PCOS!</title><description>I had an ultraound yesterday to count my cysts.  To find out "what we're working with".  Right side had 6, left side had 3.  That is not PCOS!  So after all this time....  Well, at least we now know.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also now know that my follicles are not maturing.  No eggs are releasing.  I am what they call "anovulatory".  At least we know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also know that I have lost 6 more pounds.  FANTASTIC for me!  I am quite proud.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm waiting until the end of August, and then I'm supposed to give Sue a call and meet up again.  I'm really happy I switched to her!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-2619688678338202704?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/07/pshhhhh-thats-not-pcos.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-8340500746753241347</guid><pubDate>Fri, 25 Jun 2010 02:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-07-31T13:32:18.997-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Don</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">mice</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">friends</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">infertility</category><title>I Haven't Seen You Around Here Before</title><description>Yeah.  I haven't posted since September.  SEPTEMBER!   I had some meanies posting comments, and even though I didn't approve them for you guys to see, I still had to see them.  I was hurt and shot down and embarassed and all sorts of dejected.  So I just stopped writing.  Well, poo on them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to a crossroads with my doctor. This last round of Clomid lasted 16 months and that is wayyyy too long to be on it. He said he couldn't do much more and wanted to refer me to the Cities.  Well, all the while, I had been hearing about an awesome specialist right in Mankato.  I told Dr. B that I wanted to check her out first.  I'm glad I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She explained things to me that no one else has, nor had I ever read.  And if I had read it, maybe I didn't aborb it.  She gave me a plan, and told me to call her on Day 1 of my next cycle so we could schedule an ultrasound to actually count my cysts, which has never been done.  This way we can "see what we're working with".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel positive and excited to meet with her.  I feel like things are getting done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or will get done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else is new?  Oh, Don told me Tuesday night when I got home from work that our little mouse, Talulah, passed away.  She was a little sweetie, and we had suspected something was wrong as she had a tumor on her neck for awhile.  Mice don't live too long, and I will miss her little face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend is pregnant with number 5!  Her kids are pretty excited, as am I.  I think of them as neices and nephews.  But then, I even think of my cousins' kids as my nephews.  :-)  She's due in October and just found out she's having a boy.  I can't wait to meet him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my summer program that I run started on Sunday.  So far, so good! The kids are all getting along and everything is super.  YAY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-8340500746753241347?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-havent-seen-you-around-here-before.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-4138442995959112012</guid><pubDate>Sat, 19 Sep 2009 02:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-18T21:21:04.860-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">me</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">happy mail</category><title>YAY FOR ME!</title><description>I got an extra $100 this week! :-)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, on Tuesday night on my way to work in &lt;a href="http://www.springfieldmn.org/"&gt;Springfield&lt;/a&gt; I was listening to &lt;a href="http://www.hot967.fm/"&gt;96.7&lt;/a&gt; and the dj asked a question, "45% of newly married women get upset when they find out their husband is doing what?"  I got it right!  I'm not going to tell you what it was though, I want you to guess in my comments!  Anyways, I won a $40 gift card to &lt;a href="http://www.panerabread.com/"&gt;Panera Bread&lt;/a&gt; and received it today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, on Wednesday at our monthly General Staff meeting they announced it was &lt;a href="http://interhab.org/forum/index.php?showtopic=1264"&gt;National DSP week&lt;/a&gt; so they were giving us all $10 in Chamber Dollars.  WOO HOO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, today I received my $50 &lt;a href="http://www.lanebryant.com"&gt;Lane Bryant&lt;/a&gt; gift card that I redeemed on &lt;a href="https://www.mypoints.com/emp/u/raf.do"&gt;MyPoints&lt;/a&gt; a couple of weeks ago.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it!  A FREE $100!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-4138442995959112012?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2009/09/yay-for-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-5374285564996455908</guid><pubDate>Sat, 19 Sep 2009 01:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-18T21:04:44.389-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">me</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">happy mail</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><title>HAPPY MAIL!</title><description>A few days back I got a happy, aqua colored padded envelope with flowers on it.  It was from my mom and sister!  They were out scouting the garage sales and found a few things that made them think of me.  :-)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/SrQ6PfLT0GI/AAAAAAAAAOY/pQmt8_geKVg/s1600-h/IMG_1387.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/SrQ6PfLT0GI/AAAAAAAAAOY/pQmt8_geKVg/s320/IMG_1387.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382991492355969122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A business card holder, a cat pin and a mini violin for our living room!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-5374285564996455908?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-mail.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/SrQ6PfLT0GI/AAAAAAAAAOY/pQmt8_geKVg/s72-c/IMG_1387.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-3454330727220628426</guid><pubDate>Fri, 11 Sep 2009 14:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-11T09:30:24.140-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Eat</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">home</category><title>Omelette in a Bag?</title><description>This morning at work the guy I was working with was telling me how to make an omelette in a bag.  I didn't think it was a real thing, so I had to look it up.  SURE ENOUGH!  It's a real deal!  I don't know if I want to try it or not, I'm kind of grossed out.  But I bet it's healthier?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NJ2NfUbbQWE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NJ2NfUbbQWE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-3454330727220628426?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2009/09/omelette-in-bag.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-4829395068534313249</guid><pubDate>Fri, 14 Aug 2009 13:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-14T08:38:52.147-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">simon</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">rats</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><title>I'm Gonna Miss Simon</title><description>Simon passed away around 12:40 this morning.  I know that because I was giving him food and Don said, "Watch Simon".  I thought he meant so Simon didn't go out the open hatch.  No, he was hiccup breathing.  He wasn't actually hiccuping, but it looked like it.  I came into the office and updated my Facebook status that he was having a hard time breathing and I was fearing that he wouldn't be with us much longer.  I went out and he was laying on his side.  Yes, my little friend was gone.  I needed to grasp this, so I came back into the office and wrote that he passed.  My Facebook status said that my last post had been 12 minutes earlier.  Rats live about 2 years, and Simon and his brother were guessed to have been born early September 2007.  We got them October 30, 2007.   Oh, my little buddy....I cried so hard last night, and had sad, sad dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-4829395068534313249?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-gonna-miss-simon.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-6123453340721134353</guid><pubDate>Thu, 23 Jul 2009 19:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-23T14:37:57.142-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">simon</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">rats</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Theo</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Don</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">me</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">work</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">randomness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">friends</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Nigel</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">home</category><title>Long Time No See!</title><description>Man, so much has been going on, and I've been wanting to blog so badly, but haven't had the time or patience to do so.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see....On June 7th, we found out that poor Nigel died.  He was just so sick and unhappy, it was better for him.  I am glad I didn't put him down and had those extra weeks for him.  He loved to snuggle, even more so in the end.  What a nice boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt bad for Simon, he was so lonely it seemed.  Rats are very social and so I called the pet store we adopted Simon &amp; Nigel from and asked if they had any rats for adoption.  They did!  They had Theo (prenamed)who was dropped off by his previous owners.  The pet store lady wasn't sure how old he was or anything about him, except that he was having breathing problems and they were feeding him cat food to fatten him up (not supposed to do that!!!). I said I'd like to check him out, it sounds like he'd be a great fit.  I didn't want to expose a healthy rat to Simon just in case, so this sounded like a possibility.  When we drove to Mankato, I was so excited.  At the store, I picked up Theo and he was just a soft little love. He let me carry him around the whole store and loved to sit on my shoulder like the boys do and hide in my hair.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/IMG_8862.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/IMG_8862.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did all the steps to exposing Simon and Theo to each other and they hit it off.  Once they were finally in the cage together, they snuggled and cleaned each other and had a great time together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, as we were getting ready to leave for our District Convention on July 2, I found Theo had died.  I knew he was sick, I just didn't think I would only have him for 3 weeks.  We have decided to not get another rat.  I am just trying to love on Simon more. Simon is doing okay, he's still breathing rough, but not as rough as the other two.  I think he's lonely and it's sad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our "Keep on the Watch!" District Convention was awesome.  I saw lots of friends that I haven't seen in years.  Makes me happy!  The information was what we needed!  Don and I really needed that time together as I had been working my Summer Program thru my job and was putting in a lot of OT and not getting the time together that we're used to.   We went to Savers on Friday night to see if there were any clothes for Don.  Sure enough, we got two pairs of pants, a shirt, tie, couple of books, awesome old decks of cards and a COUCH!  Oh my.  Yes, we TIED a couch to our STATION WAGON.  It was quite the sight to see, I'm sure.  We noticed a lot of looks.  :-)  So now we can cuddle again.  We had arm chairs for the past couple of years and we missed that connection.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/FILE0112.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/FILE0112.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's about it for now.  This is way too long.  I hope you stuck it out to the end!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-6123453340721134353?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2009/07/long-time-no-see.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-4822507093682477094</guid><pubDate>Mon, 23 Mar 2009 03:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-03-22T22:23:04.735-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">blog challenge</category><title>Tag, You're It.</title><description>I have been tagged by &lt;a href="http://dollzlife.blogspot.com"&gt;Angi&lt;/a&gt;...Here is what I have to do..Go to the place on your computer where you store all your pictures and open the 4th folder.&lt;br /&gt;Open the 4th picture.&lt;br /&gt;Post the picture and give an explanation of what it is.&lt;br /&gt;Tag 4 people.&lt;br /&gt;DO NOT CHEAT!! You cannot edit or crop the picture!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my photo from our trip to Nebraska in June of 2007.  We were on our way to a wedding shoot, and stopped near Omaha, I think?  Anyways, we ate at Taco Del Mar...very similar to Chipotle.  Cute decorations and stuff...I liked the sign. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/Scb_ddR1sPI/AAAAAAAAAM4/PjJFRPkNr44/s1600-h/IMG_5327.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AIx6adrlV1Q/Scb_ddR1sPI/AAAAAAAAAM4/PjJFRPkNr44/s320/IMG_5327.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316217291698188530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tagged:&lt;br /&gt;Emily&lt;br /&gt;Don&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;br /&gt;Julie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18016599-723722682467133783?l=super8cat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://super8cat.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-could-it-be-yes.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Cat)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18016599.post-2207789565602823104</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Jan 2009 05:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-01-19T00:12:01.923-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">me</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">12 of 12</category><title>January 12 of 12</title><description>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Thought I'd join in on the &lt;a href="http://twelve-of-twelve.blogspot.com/"&gt;12 of 12&lt;/a&gt;.  Here's my January....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love all things Burt's Bees.  I don't think I've ever tried something I didn't like!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4096.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;For lunch I had the last slice of BBQ pizza.  Man, was it good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4098.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4098.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;We've been sending out some family pictures and cards and here's the stack I had to mail out.  Still more to write and address!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4094.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4094.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I'm calling this my self portrait...and I got caught up on some online stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4088.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;For supper I made pork chops with this delicious sauce.  I have always been a barbeque loving fool...and apparently today I needed it twice!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4090.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4090.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A new season of &lt;a href="http://www.americanidol.com/"&gt;American Idol&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4091.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;For my &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plantar_fasciitis"&gt;plantar fasciitis&lt;/a&gt; I am supposed to take 3 ibuprofen 3 times daily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4092.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4092.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;In preparation for Season 5 starting on January 21st, Don and I have been rewatching all seasons of LOST.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4093.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4093.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I also returned my movie, &lt;a href="http://www.netflix.com/Movie/Blind_Dating/70063590?trkid=490909"&gt;Blind Dating&lt;/a&gt;, to &lt;a href="http://www.netflix.com"&gt;Netflix&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4095.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I was pretty disappointed this was all I got in the mail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4101.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4101.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Don and I are always good at getting our daily water that we should be drinking.  But sometimes it's nice to throw a flavor packet in there, too.  Right now I'm all about pink lemonade!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4097.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4097.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I was born and raised here, but this still doesn't amuse me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4100.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a347/Super8Cat/12%20of%2012/IMG_4100.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--
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