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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EGRHc8fip7ImA9WhRaE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952</id><updated>2012-02-16T06:27:05.976-05:00</updated><category term="facebook addict" /><category term="guitar hero" /><category term="kitchen appliances" /><category term="the birthday book" /><category term="Buddha sand sculpture" /><category term="too much information" /><category term="hard times" /><category term="Zen" /><category term="1904" /><category term="broken ice-maker" /><category term="death" 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to Dr Suess" /><category term="love" /><category term="jerks" /><category term="Break up" /><category term="babies" /><category term="march birthdays" /><category term="status updates" /><category term="lists" /><category term="air guitar on YouTube" /><category term="march 2" /><category term="Myers Briggs" /><category term="kid quotes" /><category term="inauguration day" /><category term="Zen mind" /><category term="theodor geisel" /><category term="heart rate" /><category term="toaster oven" /><category term="social networking" /><category term="burning dinner" /><category term="possessed" /><category term="phonetic spelling" /><category term="Facebook addiction" /><category term="Gainesville" /><category term="embarrassing moments" /><category term="Sand Sculptures" /><category term="burnt bacon" /><category term="Insomnia" /><category term="do not call list" /><category term="Presidential election" /><category term="Monica Slora" /><category term="milk through nose" /><category term="President" /><category term="no drinking" /><category term="birthday tribute" /><category term="Facebook" /><category term="silly mom" /><category term="loss of a friend" /><category term="air guitar bloopers" /><category term="kid drawings" /><category term="Barock on" /><category term="children" /><category term="demon" /><category term="happy birthday" /><category term="betta fish song" /><category term="silliness" /><category term="mom on YouTube" /><category term="gym" /><category term="what kids think" /><category term="Happy Buddha" /><category term="snarky anonymous comments" /><category term="out of shape" /><category term="infidelity" /><category term="December in Florida" /><category term="change the world" /><category term="INFP" /><category term="elliptical machine" /><category term="sick of dating" /><category term="bloopers" /><category term="difficult circumstances" /><category term="embarrass" /><category term="twitter" /><category term="bad cook" /><category term="Balrog" /><category term="can't cook" /><category term="codependency" /><category term="fear" /><category term="kid spelling" /><category term="cool mom" /><title>Splatters of the Heart</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/SplattersOfTheHeart" /><feedburner:info uri="splattersoftheheart" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMNSXc8eCp7ImA9WhZXFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-4806610260328289252</id><published>2011-05-05T22:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T22:04:58.970-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-05T22:04:58.970-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sleep problems" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="natural sleep rememdy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Insomnia" /><title>Dreaming of Sleep</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/4806610260328289252/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2011/05/dreaming-of-sleep.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/4806610260328289252?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/4806610260328289252?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/E7Sm0l96dCE/dreaming-of-sleep.html" title="Dreaming of Sleep" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9hDk8c2ZxME/Ta39zvUYThI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/XrtMlCvSQ7I/s72-c/needsleep1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">The best cure for insomnia is to get a lot of sleep. 
                                                         ~W.C. Fields 


By far the greatest challenge for me since the brain hemorrhage has been lack of sleep.  Waking up refreshed is something I only dream of.  You know that expression, "I slept like a log"?  Yeah, completely foreign concept to me.  I wish I were a log.  Or even a stick.  
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oRTEpismXOeYDoW0mgcIq3GipTE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oRTEpismXOeYDoW0mgcIq3GipTE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oRTEpismXOeYDoW0mgcIq3GipTE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oRTEpismXOeYDoW0mgcIq3GipTE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/E7Sm0l96dCE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2011/05/dreaming-of-sleep.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4DQ3o6eCp7ImA9WhZTE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-3949876337601656223</id><published>2011-03-17T12:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T12:22:52.410-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-17T12:22:52.410-04:00</app:edited><title>Band Aids for Broken Hearts</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/3949876337601656223/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2011/03/band-aids-for-broken-hearts.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/3949876337601656223?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/3949876337601656223?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/BDY_aBaWgoU/band-aids-for-broken-hearts.html" title="Band Aids for Broken Hearts" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">


One of my favorite people in the world has a broken heart.  She's  been crying all morning and there's nothing I can do about it. I wish I  could say all the right things or somehow show her the future so she  could see why she's better off without this jerk anyway.

But I can't.

All  I can do is tell her I love her and hope she can see how wonderful she  truly is, and that this dude must be 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ytSvcAvEbSaYbviAm6FnzEbc8nM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ytSvcAvEbSaYbviAm6FnzEbc8nM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/BDY_aBaWgoU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2011/03/band-aids-for-broken-hearts.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMDRnYyeCp7ImA9WhZTEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-2307110212252789877</id><published>2011-03-14T23:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T11:37:57.890-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-15T11:37:57.890-04:00</app:edited><title>Music &amp; Memories</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/2307110212252789877/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2011/03/music-memories.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/2307110212252789877?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/2307110212252789877?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/LMFEduYV3Ts/music-memories.html" title="Music &amp; Memories" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">A fabulous friend of mine on Twitter @jayelisson (follow her, she's almost as much fun as @IanPoulter) is also on Tumblr.  She's been blogging 25 songs in 25 days, and she's posted some very cool tunes. They have meaning from different seasons of her life.  She recently posted a U2 song that reminded her of her first love.  Songs always stir up memories...

Personally, I don't need to be reminded
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZJwa2EpvvBT169m07-AmsqNt214/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZJwa2EpvvBT169m07-AmsqNt214/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/LMFEduYV3Ts" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2011/03/music-memories.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYBRHc9cSp7ImA9Wx9QGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-725580140823058121</id><published>2010-12-31T17:35:00.095-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T14:55:55.969-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-02T14:55:55.969-05:00</app:edited><title>New Year's Eve Reflection</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/725580140823058121/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2010/12/new-years-eve-reflection.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/725580140823058121?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/725580140823058121?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/nOmxwcgw3C8/new-years-eve-reflection.html" title="New Year's Eve Reflection" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N3oSZ0O6Zo4/TR-iEQSwapI/AAAAAAAAAXo/8__b5SIqNcs/s72-c/MonRach.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">As I sit here contemplating a year that has simply flown by and doing a little navel-gazing (quite literally -- my right ovary and tumor therein were pulled out through it only three weeks ago and I marvel that it's almost completely healed), I'd like to share with you the nutshell version of our 2010.When I think of the word reflection, what usually comes to mind is the the "fixing of the 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PKeEQZdiHBX9trmhJPNQfjdlplw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PKeEQZdiHBX9trmhJPNQfjdlplw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/nOmxwcgw3C8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2010/12/new-years-eve-reflection.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMEQ3o7fSp7ImA9WxBaF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-1740215679182034080</id><published>2010-03-20T23:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T11:00:02.405-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-28T11:00:02.405-04:00</app:edited><title>Long Time No See</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/1740215679182034080/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2010/03/long-time-no-see.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/1740215679182034080?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/1740215679182034080?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/A22abowkxdo/long-time-no-see.html" title="Long Time No See" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">So it's been what, almost a full year since my last post?  Wow.  This has been one of the most challenging periods of my life, for many different reasons.I'm not going to go into gory detail, as I try my best to focus on the positive, but I will explain some of it in future posts.  Right now I just want to take a deep breath, exhale, and say, "Hello!"  It's good to be back.As I type this, I am 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j8ev74SjxJhtGihMM-aCWVB1uv0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j8ev74SjxJhtGihMM-aCWVB1uv0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/A22abowkxdo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2010/03/long-time-no-see.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4ERHY-fyp7ImA9WxBbGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-8124131138898981740</id><published>2009-04-21T11:38:00.046-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T01:01:45.857-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-19T01:01:45.857-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="air guitar on YouTube" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bloopers" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mom on YouTube" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="twitter names" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="air guitar bloopers" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hot mom" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="air guitar" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="twitter" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="snarky anonymous comments" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cool mom" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="air guitar contest winner" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="betta fish song" /><title>A Betta Fish and an Air Guitar?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/8124131138898981740/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/04/betta-fish-and-air-guitar.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/8124131138898981740?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/8124131138898981740?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/hMs-jrZKh1w/betta-fish-and-air-guitar.html" title="A Betta Fish and an Air Guitar?" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">This post is for the 8 or so of you who actually read my blog and wonder where I've been.  Thank you for caring. :)Like many people, I’ve been short on work and long on the effort to find it.  I have written another children’s book (which I’m very excited about), it’s just a matter of illustrating and publishing them both.  Easy, right?  One can hope. In the midst of it all, I keep my spirits up 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UlS0DHnUbuzzrw2R4qOfYLkzHLw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UlS0DHnUbuzzrw2R4qOfYLkzHLw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UlS0DHnUbuzzrw2R4qOfYLkzHLw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UlS0DHnUbuzzrw2R4qOfYLkzHLw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/hMs-jrZKh1w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/04/betta-fish-and-air-guitar.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8MQ3w9fip7ImA9WxBbGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-8431781253465140285</id><published>2009-03-09T14:59:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T00:44:42.266-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-19T00:44:42.266-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happy birthday dr suess" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="birthday tribute" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="happy birthday" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Dr. Seuss" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1904" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ode to Dr Suess" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="theodor geisel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Suess tribute" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="march 2" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="the birthday book" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="march birthdays" /><title>Happy Birthday To You!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/8431781253465140285/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/03/happy-birthday-to-you.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/8431781253465140285?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/8431781253465140285?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/487tsczA3UA/happy-birthday-to-you.html" title="Happy Birthday To You!" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><content type="html">March is a very special month, and not only for the Irish.  If you happen to have been blessed with a March birthday, you are in extraordinarily good company. Why?  Well, for starters, I was born in the month of March.  March 4th to be exact.  (We’ll skip the year because in the words of Satchel Paige, "How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?"  Let us relish the not-knowing, 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eiIbXzkI4lTKHxR-Yt0cwm2z384/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eiIbXzkI4lTKHxR-Yt0cwm2z384/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eiIbXzkI4lTKHxR-Yt0cwm2z384/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eiIbXzkI4lTKHxR-Yt0cwm2z384/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/487tsczA3UA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/03/happy-birthday-to-you.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQFRXs8fCp7ImA9WxVWF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-6324491713746192786</id><published>2009-02-10T18:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T11:31:54.574-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-27T11:31:54.574-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bad etiquette" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="silliness" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mommy blog" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="milk through nose" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Monica Slora" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="laughter" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="restaurant behavior" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funny kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="silly mom" /><title>You Act That Way in Public?!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/6324491713746192786/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/02/you-act-that-way-in-public_10.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/6324491713746192786?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/6324491713746192786?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/rU4P3plVpn0/you-act-that-way-in-public_10.html" title="You Act That Way in Public?!" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N3oSZ0O6Zo4/SZHBxwfDVAI/AAAAAAAAAMg/glMxfFNWg_M/s72-c/spewpre.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">Oh, yeah.  We do.  The kids and I act all kinds of silly in public places.  I’d love to blame it solely on them, but I can’t.  I live to crack them up until chocolate milk (or other noteworthy liquid) comes spewing forth from their cute little noses.  Then I capture the moment on the iPhone.  Terrible, aren’t I?  Fortunately, I’m the fast draw with the camera.  This could potentially change 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bx2dRekKN80oo0skHk6PmHwm6pU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bx2dRekKN80oo0skHk6PmHwm6pU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bx2dRekKN80oo0skHk6PmHwm6pU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Bx2dRekKN80oo0skHk6PmHwm6pU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/rU4P3plVpn0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/02/you-act-that-way-in-public_10.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcARno5eCp7ImA9WxBbGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-2490664522425852166</id><published>2009-02-07T09:54:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T00:47:27.420-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-19T00:47:27.420-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="facebook friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="status updates" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kitchen appliances" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="toaster oven" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="possessed" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bad cook" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="burnt bacon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="burning dinner" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="oven" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="burn breakfast" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Food Network" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="broken ice-maker" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cooking sucks" /><title>My Kitchen Hates Me</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/2490664522425852166/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/02/my-kitchen-hates-me.html#comment-form" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/2490664522425852166?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/2490664522425852166?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/qRrQDPwKZlM/my-kitchen-hates-me.html" title="My Kitchen Hates Me" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N3oSZ0O6Zo4/SY2lGW8349I/AAAAAAAAAMA/9FUn-Nz_6hs/s72-c/wafflevictims.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">My dinner burning talents have officially broken out of the box and escaped into breakfast as well.  Good thing lunch is mostly sandwiches.  I think perhaps the toaster oven is possessed and hates me.  I don't change the setting and it burns things as it pleases.  Its close friend, the electric can opener finds joy in frustrating me to the point of wanting to chuck it out the window.  It is 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dQbkKjEA7btRCZRQRYAPLZ8qcpw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dQbkKjEA7btRCZRQRYAPLZ8qcpw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dQbkKjEA7btRCZRQRYAPLZ8qcpw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dQbkKjEA7btRCZRQRYAPLZ8qcpw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/qRrQDPwKZlM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/02/my-kitchen-hates-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMERHg6eyp7ImA9WxBaEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-6151007782110372456</id><published>2009-02-05T19:17:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T23:50:05.613-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-20T23:50:05.613-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="embarrass" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="social networking" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="too much information" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Facebook" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="quizzes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Monica Slora" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="burnt dinner" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="25 random things" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="embarrassing moments" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="can't cook" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="myspace" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lists" /><title>Those Random Things</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/6151007782110372456/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/02/those-random-things.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/6151007782110372456?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/6151007782110372456?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/BH5BR9h2O8o/those-random-things.html" title="Those Random Things" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><content type="html">If you're on Facebook or MySpace, I'm sure you've seen those quizzes circulating that want you to disclose tons of personal information and share it with 200 or so of your closest friends.  One of them is called "25 Random Things About Me."  I decided, well, why limit myself to just Facebook when I can embarrass myself in front of the whole world?  So here's my list, minus five.  Hey, some things
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ad7Z8yKj8HLy58z5w6aXHzNX9LQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ad7Z8yKj8HLy58z5w6aXHzNX9LQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ad7Z8yKj8HLy58z5w6aXHzNX9LQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ad7Z8yKj8HLy58z5w6aXHzNX9LQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/BH5BR9h2O8o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/02/those-random-things.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUECSXwzeSp7ImA9WxVQFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-6534613117948182585</id><published>2009-01-30T11:00:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T13:47:48.281-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-31T13:47:48.281-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="phonetic spelling" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kid drawings" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="inauguration day" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kid spelling" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children and Obama" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="6 year old" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Facebook addiction" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guitar hero" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="facebook addict" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Barak Obama" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Barock on" /><title>Ba-rock On!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/6534613117948182585/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/01/barock-on.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/6534613117948182585?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/6534613117948182585?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/c_PBmHCyeog/barock-on.html" title="Ba-rock On!" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N3oSZ0O6Zo4/SYRsfb935WI/AAAAAAAAAK4/uByo47Br2nc/s72-c/JPobama.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">If you read my November blog, Splatters of the Heart: Obama -- "He's Brown", you know that my 6 year-old is a huge Obama fan.  Inaguration day was a big deal around here.  As I was celebrating with my Facebook friends online (I know, get a life, right?  We'll discuss Fb addiction in a separate post) I came across the words, "Barock On!"  This was of course, insanely appealing to a family with 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/flyqZAvZP33ooxMzYPFe_-l3-_I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/flyqZAvZP33ooxMzYPFe_-l3-_I/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/flyqZAvZP33ooxMzYPFe_-l3-_I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/flyqZAvZP33ooxMzYPFe_-l3-_I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/c_PBmHCyeog" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/01/barock-on.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcNRH4-eCp7ImA9WxVQFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-359710808051859125</id><published>2009-01-29T21:43:00.023-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T10:01:35.050-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-31T10:01:35.050-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Zen mind" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Zen" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="introvert" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="people watching" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="beginner's mind" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="babies" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="human behavior" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="toddlers" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Myers Briggs" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="INFP" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="children" /><title>People Watching</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/359710808051859125/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/01/people-watching.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/359710808051859125?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/359710808051859125?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/qcglkyFTg8s/people-watching.html" title="People Watching" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N3oSZ0O6Zo4/SYRnf31swJI/AAAAAAAAAKw/rAM2aHleNcM/s72-c/photo-3.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">I am an introvert, I confess.  I'm an IFNP on the Myers-Briggs and it suits me well.  I cringe at the word "mingle."  I would much rather be up in front of the crowd than forced to walk through it making pseudo-conversation.  Yeck.  Dental visits are more appealing to me.  Seriously.  Just me and the dentist -- I know his name, we share a common purpose, most of the time I don't have to say a 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hYBqlxwa9NXWzXD66p1P0UR1ZSY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hYBqlxwa9NXWzXD66p1P0UR1ZSY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hYBqlxwa9NXWzXD66p1P0UR1ZSY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hYBqlxwa9NXWzXD66p1P0UR1ZSY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/qcglkyFTg8s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/01/people-watching.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkIDRXk5eCp7ImA9WxBaEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-4028541104568335619</id><published>2009-01-12T20:19:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T13:02:54.720-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-20T13:02:54.720-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="infidelity" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mr. Wrong" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="romance" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating advice" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="LOA" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cheaters" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="no drinking" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="deal breakers" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bad grammar" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sick of dating" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="do not call list" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="liars" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="no smoking" /><title>The Do Not Call Girl</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/4028541104568335619/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/01/do-not-call-girl.html#comment-form" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/4028541104568335619?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/4028541104568335619?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/FXq3S8VkMW8/do-not-call-girl.html" title="The Do Not Call Girl" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><content type="html">Most of the time I have a very positive outlook on life -- very LOA, keeping the good vibes going, and generally enjoying myself.And then there's dating. Which like using a public restroom, I would probably avoid at all costs if it weren't an absolute necessity.  Last week the whole matter of relationships caused me to lose my perspective, my good vibes, and some much needed sleep.  I was 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dUDC1WNhpHasXNy-JJ_mrjD6z98/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dUDC1WNhpHasXNy-JJ_mrjD6z98/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dUDC1WNhpHasXNy-JJ_mrjD6z98/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dUDC1WNhpHasXNy-JJ_mrjD6z98/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/FXq3S8VkMW8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2009/01/do-not-call-girl.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cFQnY7cCp7ImA9WxFVFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-730053974647948759</id><published>2008-12-07T22:13:00.018-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T12:03:33.808-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-13T12:03:33.808-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sand castles" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sand Sculptures" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="December in Florida" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Buddha sand sculpture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Zen" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Happy Buddha" /><title>Zen and the Art of Sand Castles</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/730053974647948759/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/12/zen-and-art-of-sand-castle-buidling.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/730053974647948759?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/730053974647948759?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/cVNRNPdsSD8/zen-and-art-of-sand-castle-buidling.html" title="Zen and the Art of Sand Castles" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N3oSZ0O6Zo4/STyRxahms9I/AAAAAAAAAHs/-eVHpVox9PI/s72-c/standbuddha.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Why am I talking about sand castles in December?  Because I live in Florida and this is what we do.  We put on sunscreen and hit the beach, shovels and/or cameras in hand.  Go ahead and brag about your snowmen, but we have Buddha's made of sand.Over the weekend I took my children to a sandcastle festival and fundraiser, complete with sand sculpting contest.  The proceeds benefit wellness programs
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/waRTGJVm75-Gr5Lbu_4S4LHqTLM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/waRTGJVm75-Gr5Lbu_4S4LHqTLM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/waRTGJVm75-Gr5Lbu_4S4LHqTLM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/waRTGJVm75-Gr5Lbu_4S4LHqTLM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/cVNRNPdsSD8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/12/zen-and-art-of-sand-castle-buidling.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUDSHY9fip7ImA9WxBaGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-7681522786315485461</id><published>2008-11-14T17:03:00.024-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T21:47:59.866-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-28T21:47:59.866-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hard times" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="divorce" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="death" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="difficult circumstances" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Break up" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="feeling alone" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="challenges" /><title>Don't Look Down</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/7681522786315485461/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/11/dont-look-down.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/7681522786315485461?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/7681522786315485461?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/Aa9QlIakj58/dont-look-down.html" title="Don't Look Down" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3oSZ0O6Zo4/S7AGCR2xcHI/AAAAAAAAAS8/cfdHyt9V6NY/s72-c/NumOneCrop.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Sometimes you come to a place in your life that is so difficult, you feel as if you can’t survive.  You think you won’t make it because if there is an “other side,” well, it’s so far out there you can’t even see it.

It feels like someone put you up on a very long, very high wire, let you go, and said, “Cross!”

There’s this big pole you’re holding on to -- but it’s wobbling.  And you are 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNQ7jbAX8zkIve8yRJIE-tYgik4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNQ7jbAX8zkIve8yRJIE-tYgik4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNQ7jbAX8zkIve8yRJIE-tYgik4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dNQ7jbAX8zkIve8yRJIE-tYgik4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/Aa9QlIakj58" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/11/dont-look-down.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8NQ30_eip7ImA9WxVQE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-7729072271566801655</id><published>2008-11-05T10:22:00.022-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T11:28:12.342-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-30T11:28:12.342-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="President" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="John McCain" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change the world" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="what kids think" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Barak Obama" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="race" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Presidential election" /><title>Obama -- "He's Brown"</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/7729072271566801655/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/11/obama-hes-brown.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/7729072271566801655?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/7729072271566801655?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/F1GBzEOUNSY/obama-hes-brown.html" title="Obama -- &quot;He's Brown&quot;" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">Can a 6-year-old vote for President of the United States?  My son did.  I picked him up from school yesterday to see an "I Voted" sticker prominently displayed on his little blue shirt.  Now, there hasn't been much talk one way or the other in my home about the Presidential candidates.  I am an Independent and was undecided until the end, so I voiced no opinion.My son however, came out of his 1st
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZB7rT9jZZJXXNf1sHHsarVcI2ko/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZB7rT9jZZJXXNf1sHHsarVcI2ko/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZB7rT9jZZJXXNf1sHHsarVcI2ko/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZB7rT9jZZJXXNf1sHHsarVcI2ko/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/F1GBzEOUNSY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/11/obama-hes-brown.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQEQHc8eyp7ImA9WhdTFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-5654726035382347221</id><published>2008-10-31T12:55:00.019-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T11:28:21.973-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-14T11:28:21.973-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gainesville" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="UF Bat House" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sallie Slora" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Vicki Slora" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ross Edwards" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="loss of a friend" /><title>Remembering Ross</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/5654726035382347221/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/10/remembering-ross.html#comment-form" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/5654726035382347221?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/5654726035382347221?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/6w0yIffH9es/remembering-ross.html" title="Remembering Ross" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N3oSZ0O6Zo4/SQs6VEPXHII/AAAAAAAAAHE/9Ee5zxknj_o/s72-c/ross.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>7</thr:total><content type="html">
On Saturday, October 26, 2008, I learned of the loss of a good friend, Ross Edwards.   I say “good friend” not for the length of time I knew him, nor for how often we kept in touch, but simply because the words embody Ross -- a good friend; a good man to all who knew him.   In his 35 years he touched many lives, leaving a trail of joy wherever he went.   Though the time I was privileged to spend
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fwLCqdyieQc4FZ6WY8kKRum2tnU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fwLCqdyieQc4FZ6WY8kKRum2tnU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fwLCqdyieQc4FZ6WY8kKRum2tnU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fwLCqdyieQc4FZ6WY8kKRum2tnU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/6w0yIffH9es" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/10/remembering-ross.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQDR3c6cSp7ImA9WxRXFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-5239086381836799645</id><published>2008-09-22T20:17:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T10:19:36.919-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-20T10:19:36.919-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="out of shape" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gym" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="elliptical machine" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="working out" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="heart rate" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exercise" /><title>Out O' Shape?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/5239086381836799645/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/09/out-o-shape.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/5239086381836799645?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/5239086381836799645?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/MsnspnFFz_U/out-o-shape.html" title="Out O' Shape?" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">Is it possible to be 5'5" inches tall, weigh in at 109 lbs., (I have no idea what that is in kilos my British mates, sorry), have 11% body fat, and still be out of shape? Yes, my friends, it is. How do I know this? I know this because the trainers at the gym give you a free evaluation when you join. Yay! No. Apparently, my thoughts on what it means to be "in good shape" need some serious 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9IvMTkXAfIhvgQBLIxD_9B18SLw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9IvMTkXAfIhvgQBLIxD_9B18SLw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9IvMTkXAfIhvgQBLIxD_9B18SLw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9IvMTkXAfIhvgQBLIxD_9B18SLw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/MsnspnFFz_U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/09/out-o-shape.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcERn4zfCp7ImA9WxVQGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-2488687283971683845</id><published>2008-06-01T18:54:00.020-04:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T18:36:47.084-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-05T18:36:47.084-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gandolf" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Balrog" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="demon" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lord of the Rings" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fear" /><title>"You Shall Not Pass!"</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/2488687283971683845/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/06/you-shall-not-pass.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/2488687283971683845?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/2488687283971683845?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/6mbJc444dcw/you-shall-not-pass.html" title="&quot;You Shall Not Pass!&quot;" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">My favorite movie of all time is Lord of the Rings (the extended version in particular).  I have watched it enough to know most of it by heart, which is frightening considering the length, but I love it.  A scene that has replayed itself in my mind recently is the one in which Gandalf faces the Balrog, the big ugly demon.  I love the way he looks the thing in the eye and yells, "You shall not 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yq8j18jGTPLqJ2cwApXV_ZLpDR0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yq8j18jGTPLqJ2cwApXV_ZLpDR0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yq8j18jGTPLqJ2cwApXV_ZLpDR0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yq8j18jGTPLqJ2cwApXV_ZLpDR0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/6mbJc444dcw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/06/you-shall-not-pass.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0AFQXs6cSp7ImA9WxBaF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-6494035313770599773</id><published>2008-05-19T10:23:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T11:21:50.519-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-28T11:21:50.519-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="jerks" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="codependency" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="unhealthy patterns" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="eating disorder" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="low self-esteem" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dysfunctional" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nice guys" /><title>Dissing Dysfunction</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/6494035313770599773/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/05/dissing-dysfunction.html#comment-form" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/6494035313770599773?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/6494035313770599773?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/-sOePVQ1s0k/dissing-dysfunction.html" title="Dissing Dysfunction" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">This post is for my beautiful female friends who tend to choose unhealthy partners, or choose to stay with them. It’s also for every nice guy I ever dumped in my pre-therapuetic, I-only-deserve-to-be-treated-badly dating days. Please accept my sincere apologies.When I look back over my dating history, I see not only the guys who treated me like garbage, but also all the nice guys I passed up over
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QCzedl6PDyhb53ORl717ISVk2P0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QCzedl6PDyhb53ORl717ISVk2P0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/-sOePVQ1s0k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/05/dissing-dysfunction.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4HRHs_eCp7ImA9WxFVFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-290693624353886635</id><published>2008-04-29T14:41:00.019-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T12:35:35.540-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-13T12:35:35.540-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="British faux pas" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kid quotes" /><title>Best of List</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/290693624353886635/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/04/best-of.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/290693624353886635?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/290693624353886635?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/tgUXCVzpuKs/best-of.html" title="Best of List" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><content type="html">This is my own personal "Best of List," from my own personal little life.Best first date gift:Apple iPod shuffle. (Sweet. Even beats dark chocolate.)Best compliment:"You are so ready to laugh." (Same guy.)Best 5-year old son quote:"Mommy, will you marry me?" (The guy has competition.)Best 10-year old daughter quote:"What?! It's gluteus? Are you serious? All this time I thought it was "bootius" 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u61zx0lXZs7rGky1dCN7xvdR0Es/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u61zx0lXZs7rGky1dCN7xvdR0Es/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u61zx0lXZs7rGky1dCN7xvdR0Es/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u61zx0lXZs7rGky1dCN7xvdR0Es/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/tgUXCVzpuKs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/04/best-of.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYGRH45fSp7ImA9WxVQFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-2886079484075550243</id><published>2008-04-28T12:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T11:22:05.025-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-03T11:22:05.025-05:00</app:edited><title>Why?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/2886079484075550243/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/04/why.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/2886079484075550243?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/2886079484075550243?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/KQlwZmxF8jQ/why.html" title="Why?" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Do you ever wonder why things happen?  I do.I’m learning to trust that everything happens for a reason, and that it will all work out for my ultimate good.  It’s an interesting process.As a series of events unfolded in my life post brain-hemorrhage, I would sometimes say to myself, “Oh, so that’s why this happened,” or “Okay, this must be the reason for it all.”I am beginning to think I may never
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G3c8ieK1aWLO_EbfC8kVV3N6-tI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G3c8ieK1aWLO_EbfC8kVV3N6-tI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/KQlwZmxF8jQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/04/why.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EASHs9fCp7ImA9WxZbF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-7383766361762976440</id><published>2008-04-16T09:37:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T12:34:09.564-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-04-21T12:34:09.564-04:00</app:edited><title>Hell Hath No Coffee</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/7383766361762976440/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/04/hell-hath-no-coffee.html#comment-form" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/7383766361762976440?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/7383766361762976440?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/xo8YzOCaQI0/hell-hath-no-coffee.html" title="Hell Hath No Coffee" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><content type="html">Does anyone else ever feel like the day starts without you? A night person lost in a morning person's world? It happens to me often. While I'm still half-conscious, the rest of the world, with all it's trials and tribulations, is in full swing. One child's pull-up has leaked in the night, I forgot to set the alarm, important papers for school were not filled out, and my oldest is coughing up 
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jdWOqTo_J73XTcpxv-t8cUTABEA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jdWOqTo_J73XTcpxv-t8cUTABEA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~4/xo8YzOCaQI0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/04/hell-hath-no-coffee.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4GRns-eSp7ImA9WxVQGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797709449810034952.post-1198277348571393855</id><published>2008-03-19T18:37:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T18:52:07.551-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-05T18:52:07.551-05:00</app:edited><title>Worry and Wisdom</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/feeds/1198277348571393855/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.splattersoftheheart.com/2008/03/worry-and-wisdom.html#comment-form" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/1198277348571393855?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7797709449810034952/posts/default/1198277348571393855?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SplattersOfTheHeart/~3/BVdRuLRR6G0/worry-and-wisdom.html" title="Worry and Wisdom" /><author><name>Monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BMOF8LgYuNk/TapEPYAHjbI/AAAAAAAAAZM/YckjF5i6fec/s220/Outside3%2Bcopy.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><content type="html">I’ve been thinking a lot in the last day or two, waxing philosophical I suppose. This is a good thing.Over the last month or so I have struggled with anxiety and depression, resulting from a cerebral bleed I experienced in January, and a corresponding prescribed medication. I knew the medication would likely cause depression, but the Neurologist seemed to think it was worth the risk to help with 
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