<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?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;DkUDQXoycSp7ImA9WhRaE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:11:10.499-08:00</updated><category term="crazy love" /><title>Learning to Celebrate</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>204</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/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace" /><feedburner:info uri="startingoverinaslightlydifferentplace" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcDSHw9eyp7ImA9WhRaE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-601073957989484577</id><published>2012-02-15T12:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T12:17:59.263-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-15T12:17:59.263-08:00</app:edited><title>I broke my office chair.</title><content type="html">I broke my office chair today. I had been a coming since before I got here but the girl before me weighed about 100 lbs, so the chair didn’t know what was happening. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Throughout the day for the past month, I would just sink to the floor in an “I’m melting” kind of way. We were trying to hold off because our office should be getting remolded soon and chairs are on the list. Apparently its best to bring yours from home but sadly I can’t afford one at the moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This got me thinking about some things.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Did you know the best office chair for fat folks is a Herman-Miller and cost about $700 smackaroos?!&lt;br /&gt;A standard office chair is about $150.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They also have a weight limit of 200 lbs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Me-Did y’all know the average office chair holds 200lbs?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Co-worker-I guess your more than that?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Me-uhhh yeah I actually weigh…… -way over&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I sit here at my desk I mentally went through the people we have working here. I’m about the second biggest and the only female that weighs over 200. So do employers think like that when hiring? I mean who would have thought I would be obnoxious about my chair being on the ground and then breaking another one. Do they think hmm we would need a bigger desk? I know I wouldn’t, but maybe I should. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don’t really see weight anymore. I get to know people for who they are. My close family and friends don’t see weight either. I remember many times when my *guy friends * would say “look at that cow” when clearly I was a whale or hippo because I’m way bigger.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*** of course they don’t judge women like that not that they are adults***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I’m so used to fat being the “norm” here in “Merica” or my plus size family, that I’m used to it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I finally had to just suck it up and tell my Manager I’m top heavy and just can’t sit like a low-rider.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He brought me a chair to hold me over but I already feel it creaking and popping… we shall see tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-601073957989484577?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2vvXjfL-CHGNxQd69p6QlbdtMYM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2vvXjfL-CHGNxQd69p6QlbdtMYM/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/2vvXjfL-CHGNxQd69p6QlbdtMYM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2vvXjfL-CHGNxQd69p6QlbdtMYM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/iyF9qptb88M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/601073957989484577/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-broke-my-office-chair.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/601073957989484577?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/601073957989484577?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/iyF9qptb88M/i-broke-my-office-chair.html" title="I broke my office chair." /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-broke-my-office-chair.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAFRHYyfip7ImA9WhRaE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-3632026148983318842</id><published>2012-02-14T13:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T12:28:35.896-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-15T12:28:35.896-08:00</app:edited><title>I will not Whine....</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I will not whine&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;About being alone on valintines day.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Or being broke.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Or missing my best friend .&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Or all the flowers that everyone else got at work.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Or all the laundry that I have a romantic date with tonight.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I will be excited that &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I can go see "The Vow" when I want.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;that I have a job and a God that provides even the smallest of things that I need.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I will be happy that she's happy.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I'm allergic to most flowers anyways.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I get to have a Fun weekend with my buddies.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I will not whine but learn to celebrate the small things and be happy. &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;
﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-3632026148983318842?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G_MtoG3C5BNsOJB-YkTDQX2nSuU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G_MtoG3C5BNsOJB-YkTDQX2nSuU/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/G_MtoG3C5BNsOJB-YkTDQX2nSuU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G_MtoG3C5BNsOJB-YkTDQX2nSuU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/uP2gcrqoEy4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/3632026148983318842/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-will-not-whine.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/3632026148983318842?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/3632026148983318842?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/uP2gcrqoEy4/i-will-not-whine.html" title="I will not Whine...." /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-will-not-whine.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4NR3c-eyp7ImA9WhRbGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-4441768435395353874</id><published>2012-02-09T09:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T09:03:16.953-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-09T09:03:16.953-08:00</app:edited><title>Surviving Single- Jon Acuff</title><content type="html">I love &lt;a href="http://www.jonacuff.com/stuffchristianslike/2012/02/surviving-church-as-a-single/"&gt;Stuff Christians Like&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jon Acuff wrote a &lt;a href="http://www.jonacuff.com/stuffchristianslike/2012/02/surviving-church-as-a-single/"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; about surviving church as a single. I thought it was so funny I decided to reply to some of my favorites!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
People are constantly volunteering you for things because “you’re single, you’ve got so much free time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;My free time is spent trying to afford life and food.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When people introduce you, they say, “This is Matt, my single friend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;This is Sarah my fat, single friend.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You’ve secretly always wanted your own cat but are afraid that ownership of a single kitten will become some sort of gateway drug to becoming “the cat lady.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Thank heavens I’m allergic to cats.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Your married friends tip toe around you during February because they think you’re too delicate to handle the completely made up holiday, Valentine’s Day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I said last week, I can’t wait until v-day candy goes on sale… whooo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Your best friend of 15 years gets married and then suddenly acts like a magical gap has opened up between you and decides that, until you get married too, you can’t be close again. Because you just don’t understand each other anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Not quite has happened yet but I get it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Upon hearing that you went on two dates, your married friends at church start telling you, “I’ll be praying that this is the one!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;or when you post a picture on fb of you and a friend then your inbox is full of questions.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You set your alarm to “not going to church today” after the first week of the marriage sermon series.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;True dat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The only time your married friends invite you over is when they need a babysitter.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I can’t wait for this to happen!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You’ve developed highly sensitive, “They’re about to throw the bouquet” radar and know exactly when to leave a wedding.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I’m&amp;nbsp; a giant but never seem to catch it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Why aren't you married? But you're so pretty!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;I simply answer “I’m also fat”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-4441768435395353874?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DXtcoqnIPFUyug4ouCFe1Ac8kFE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DXtcoqnIPFUyug4ouCFe1Ac8kFE/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/DXtcoqnIPFUyug4ouCFe1Ac8kFE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DXtcoqnIPFUyug4ouCFe1Ac8kFE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/-pqOoydGIhQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/4441768435395353874/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/02/surviving-single-jon-acuff.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/4441768435395353874?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/4441768435395353874?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/-pqOoydGIhQ/surviving-single-jon-acuff.html" title="Surviving Single- Jon Acuff" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/02/surviving-single-jon-acuff.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMEQXgzfip7ImA9WhRUFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-2920098617002954188</id><published>2012-01-27T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T10:20:00.686-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-27T10:20:00.686-08:00</app:edited><title>Friday Randomness</title><content type="html">My brain hurts. Everyone in our office can’t concentrate and there is an awkward old lady smell that’s seeping through the cracks giving me a head ache, Toni a stomach ache, and Darla’s nose run. Weird.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think I miss my friends…. Actually I know I do. Abby and I live in the same town but work different schedules and I miss her. I just need 20 mins to get a coke and listen to happy music and I will be set! I tried to hangout with my friend Jade this week but we kept having stuff come up. I know it sounds dumb but taking care of the dog is hard, between my Apt’s and His vet apt’s and work I’m just completely exhausted! I have Greg here who’s been our hero for taking care of Spencer when I’m at work. Reading this sounds crazy, but He’s been the best” fur baby sitter!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I didn’t get on more than mascara today but hay I tried. I also wore earrings…. Whooooo&lt;br /&gt;
update- the mascara has been cried off....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My blood pressure and I aren’t getting along here lately. I feel myself blowing up like a balloon and need to regain control of it. I’m tired of talking about weight blood pressure and my body though. So maybe I’ll just stop. Maybe Not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My Co-workers are talking about moving to Maine, Missouri ext…. Im sitting at my desk thinking “wow I moved to Australia”. Was that a dream? Maybe just a dream come true. Its becoming easier to not wish I was anywhere but Austin but its still there. But as my mom says “I won’t be happy anywhere” and she might be right… yay blanket of depression. You know the cymbalta commercial when the robe follows her and ways her down … that’s how I feel most days.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Friday all! Just felt like seeing if blogging helped :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-2920098617002954188?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uAHo8nnWpnxAwMlSWjyq5vsNDc0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uAHo8nnWpnxAwMlSWjyq5vsNDc0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uAHo8nnWpnxAwMlSWjyq5vsNDc0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uAHo8nnWpnxAwMlSWjyq5vsNDc0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/CFzlmH5mNuo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/2920098617002954188/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/01/friday-randomness.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/2920098617002954188?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/2920098617002954188?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/CFzlmH5mNuo/friday-randomness.html" title="Friday Randomness" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/01/friday-randomness.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIMQ3w5eSp7ImA9WhRUFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-4224474544334888891</id><published>2012-01-26T10:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T10:29:42.221-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-26T10:29:42.221-08:00</app:edited><title>Make-up</title><content type="html">Hi!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My name is Sarah. I'm 25 years old and I don't wear makeup! GASP!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wear it on dates, or special occasions- but let’s face it. Those rarely happen in my life. I've been blessed with good skin and freckles to cover up my flaws. Well recently due to my hormones I've had quite a few breakouts and I think I'm getting the family curse of Rosacea. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm no longer 16 when it was semi socially acceptable to have a "blemish" on my face. Now I'm an adult at work and it’s just not okay. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The last time I wore makeup was New Years! Abby ( a professional who luckily likes to help make me pretty) was helping me out but laughed when I said I didn't have anymore base, and my powder is apparently out dated because it has straight glitter! Glitter shined faces apparently went out a few years ago... no wonder Clinique discontinued that kind! When I do have makeup I use Clinique because of allergies, but I just don't think I can afford it right now! &lt;br /&gt;
Luckily for me my G-ma loves bonus times!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I'm having a dilemma on if I should just suck it up and learn to get up 15 mins earlier and fix my hair and makeup, or just keep on being my sloppy self! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thinking its time for change!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-4224474544334888891?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ck-hHJ4ou1InO-LKeLECPTu5mEY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ck-hHJ4ou1InO-LKeLECPTu5mEY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/kwXnwgbqZHY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/4224474544334888891/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/01/make-up.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/4224474544334888891?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/4224474544334888891?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/kwXnwgbqZHY/make-up.html" title="Make-up" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/01/make-up.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYDR349eSp7ImA9WhRVGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-6771026785158845652</id><published>2012-01-18T12:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T12:22:56.061-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-18T12:22:56.061-08:00</app:edited><title>Be sure to Celebrate the many small things....</title><content type="html">I have a card framed on my desk that says "Be sure to celebrate the many Small things....." I have it there because it makes me smile! Its signed by my friends from oz and the fact that it has a cupcake on it just makes it was better!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The other day in the midst of a tear fest at work I looked at the card was like FINE I’ll Celebrate the small things GOD. So in light of my card and trying to stay positive I figured I’d share some from this week!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Pandora played NSYNC’s “I want you back “ then “Friends in Low Places” back to back yesterday!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;em&gt;I nearly danced out of my desk chair!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;em&gt;I made a Paula Deen Peach Crumble that was Amazing. I was actually proud of myself!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;em&gt;I’ve cleaned at least something in the house everyday this week! NOW THAT IS SOMETHING TO CELEBRATE!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;em&gt;I wore a dress and my hair down to work today. I’ve gotten a compliment from almost everyone, including the boss man who was like “thank you for taking the time to dress up for me” I laughed and let him know it was the Laundry’s fault but that I would try harder! ( he knows I’ve been sick)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Some days they should just be lucky I showered! CELEBRATE!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;em&gt;I sang in the car loudly at the top of my lungs….. I haven’t done that in a while! I felt tons better and wished I could just go drive in the country… not traffic jammed highways. Maybe on Friday- Payday! Still that’s not being wise with my mullah!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
I'm scared to say this outloud but I seem to be on the upswing of my recent stint&amp;nbsp;on the depression rollarcoaster...everyday is different but its getting easier to get out of bed each day which may be the the thing I need to celebrate most!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
I realize that I may have just put you to sleep by reading this blog! Maybe someday soon I’ll have my whitty awesome blogs back if not I will keep inspiring naps!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7DDtsB9g1-I/TxcqFdij8-I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/qX3Uk2pbvzE/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nfa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7DDtsB9g1-I/TxcqFdij8-I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/qX3Uk2pbvzE/s1600/photo.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
:(:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-6771026785158845652?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GIYNOnVMdFe2alagve7O-IuLe5w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GIYNOnVMdFe2alagve7O-IuLe5w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/p-SvaAn-DM4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/6771026785158845652/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/01/be-sure-to-celebrate-many-small-things.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/6771026785158845652?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/6771026785158845652?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/p-SvaAn-DM4/be-sure-to-celebrate-many-small-things.html" title="Be sure to Celebrate the many small things...." /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7DDtsB9g1-I/TxcqFdij8-I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/qX3Uk2pbvzE/s72-c/photo.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/01/be-sure-to-celebrate-many-small-things.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4DQX4zfSp7ImA9WhRVEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-7066165287526900711</id><published>2012-01-09T11:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T11:39:30.085-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T11:39:30.085-08:00</app:edited><title>Oh No I didn't- the Stache Story</title><content type="html">Do you ever do something stupid then midway or after the fact realize that you can either commit to your sillyness or jump off a brige? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hi I’m sarah and I have a mustache. &lt;br /&gt;
A big Nasty hairy one that grows super fast, just ask my dad! ( not man calibur but not pretty lasered off blonde style either)I usually keep it under control with way&amp;nbsp; over-priced Nair Products but lately I just can’t keep up due to my ovaries hating me. I was on my way to a friends house&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp; sitting in traffic when I saw it, ( don't you check the mirror in&amp;nbsp;traffic?)&amp;nbsp;It hadn't been that long but the stache was back and ready to repulse… so what did I do? What any normal fat girl with hormonal issues does. I whipped&amp;nbsp;the niar out of my purse&amp;nbsp;(yes in my purse, don't judge)&amp;nbsp;and applied in the rear view mirror then continued down the road in traffic…. After about 5 mins I see that people are looking at me and then realize I was not in some limo style dark tinted windows sports car like I had imagined… I was in my Aveo, the egg car. No Wonder they were staring…. Fat girl+ little car+ face cream= Horror…&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn’t help but laugh at myself and my crazyness!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I figure my future husband won'tt be reading my blog, and if he’s marrying me he’ll know I have the hormones of an 18 year old boy but alas I decided maybe I should keep this to myself! I e-mailed my friend Samantha this story in which she insisted it was too funny not to blog despite my embarassment and horror!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyways Happy Monday- be thankful that you don't have a mustache...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-7066165287526900711?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_-T9uF-adzwKbb4k4VDt1fOlBNc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_-T9uF-adzwKbb4k4VDt1fOlBNc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/hJO2AaBYgiM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/7066165287526900711/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/01/oh-no-i-didnt-stache-story.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/7066165287526900711?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/7066165287526900711?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/hJO2AaBYgiM/oh-no-i-didnt-stache-story.html" title="Oh No I didn't- the Stache Story" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/01/oh-no-i-didnt-stache-story.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8MRH4_cSp7ImA9WhRVEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-4571749994578390827</id><published>2012-01-09T10:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T10:48:05.049-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T10:48:05.049-08:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-4571749994578390827?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B4ueWQF6WprdI8rmNZ5CH35Ulv0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B4ueWQF6WprdI8rmNZ5CH35Ulv0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/hljGOvj6iPc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/4571749994578390827/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/4571749994578390827?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/4571749994578390827?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/hljGOvj6iPc/blog-post.html" title="" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YHSXoyeSp7ImA9WhRXF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-234879086556710359</id><published>2011-12-24T12:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-24T12:38:58.491-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-24T12:38:58.491-08:00</app:edited><title>How to peel an egg the fun way!</title><content type="html">&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/WFTWar0Slck" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My Papa showed us how to blow eggs about 8 this morning... it was so entertaining we woke up the whole house!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-234879086556710359?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QUp01jdETvOczvXl3cmwrGv1EcU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QUp01jdETvOczvXl3cmwrGv1EcU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/XYiwWaOOmxU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/234879086556710359/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/12/how-to-peel-egg-fun-way.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/234879086556710359?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/234879086556710359?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/XYiwWaOOmxU/how-to-peel-egg-fun-way.html" title="How to peel an egg the fun way!" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/WFTWar0Slck/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/12/how-to-peel-egg-fun-way.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIGRHw_fCp7ImA9WhRXFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-6685585466210118860</id><published>2011-12-20T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T13:28:45.244-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-20T13:28:45.244-08:00</app:edited><title>Blessings</title><content type="html">&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4mmgV6mPvb0" width="420"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I’m sitting here listening to Laura Story’s blessings trying not to weep at my desk. Ive had some wonderful uplifting and Godly conversations with Darla at work here lately and feel like I’m once again back to God speaking His Word to me via the Radio and music. Sounds weird but who cares ;) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you’ve been around me very much lately you know I haven’t been singing. I just can’t right now… Slowly the passion and Joy I have for Worship and music is coming back but I don’t want to force it…. God know what I’m going through right now. I thinking about the Lyrics to this song for awhile now and after e-mailing my family I wish I would have put them in my e-mail. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
We pray for blessings&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
We pray for peace&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
We pray for healing, for prosperity&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
All the while, You hear each spoken need&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
What if Your healing comes through tears&lt;br /&gt;What if a thousand sleepless nights&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Are what it takes to know You’re near&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
We pray for wisdom&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Your voice to hear&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
All the while, You hear each desperate plea&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
And long that we'd have faith to believe&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
What if Your healing comes through tears&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
What if a thousand sleepless nights &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Are what it takes to know You’re near&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
When friends betray us&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
When darkness seems to win&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
We know that pain reminds this heart&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
That this is not, this is not our home&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
It's not our home&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops&lt;br /&gt;What if Your healing comes through tears&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
And what if a thousand sleepless nights&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Are what it takes to know You’re near&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
What if my greatest disappointments&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Or the aching of this life&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
And what if trials of this life&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Are Your mercies in disguise&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-6685585466210118860?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RX0yMf0WIBqMusDpQf2wZY98oyQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RX0yMf0WIBqMusDpQf2wZY98oyQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/XSsp5ow46Xw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/6685585466210118860/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/12/blessings.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/6685585466210118860?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/6685585466210118860?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/XSsp5ow46Xw/blessings.html" title="Blessings" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/4mmgV6mPvb0/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/12/blessings.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUGR3c7eyp7ImA9WhRXE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-2613564021273827479</id><published>2011-12-19T09:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T09:03:46.903-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-19T09:03:46.903-08:00</app:edited><title>Health slap and Aggie Land</title><content type="html">You know those people on the biggest loser who just bam “well I didn’t realize I was sick or had diabetes or heart disease or that I had even gotten that big”… well that’s what happened to me last Monday! After my aunt and I being at three dr’s in one day I got in the car and was like… woah… talk about a slap in the face!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I’m having problems with my blood pressure and iron… But with the help of my neat little tracker app and my aunts ability to find low sodium food and spend tons of money and hours at the store in order for my new healthy lifestyle to take place! I’ve been under my calorie intake and sodium milligrams almost everyday for a week now so that’s a huge WIN for Sayrah!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I went to visit and help out a friend in his hometown this weekend. I had a great time and actually enjoyed getting up at 2 am and rolling papers! I’m thankful I learned how to read a map at age 5 because that was my job… to read the map while he threw the papers! I now know certain neighborhoods of college station very very well! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I’ve always loved hearing about my friends childhoods, the majority of my friends I’ve known since high school so Its neat for me to hear all about their past lives ect…. Except for Mr Greggo… He was Mr. hot stuff big man on campus big time sports player and after seeing pictures and hearing stories I got weird. I was like why are we friends?! I felt like the nerdy fluffy ag girl/ choir freak who was spending the weekend with Mr. big time. I was awkward for a while actually just thinking about life and how much people change…… then I snapped out of it and had to remember that I’m not 16 and neither is he and that adults can be friends and have a good time with each other without all the weirdness. Who cares if he’s Mr. big stuff and I’m &lt;strike&gt;fat&lt;/strike&gt; fluffy Sarah I shouldn’t be embarrassed of myself and not want people to meet me. We are friends. A lot of people are asking me if we are dating.. Nope we aren’t . Just friends, and If you’ve known me for any matter of time you know I have the uncanny ability to be just friends with guys… that’s how I like it! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-2613564021273827479?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8OEZOZ3ZbsD2_uLcppjves93Eqc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8OEZOZ3ZbsD2_uLcppjves93Eqc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/z49TGdVelg8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/2613564021273827479/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/12/health-slap-and-aggie-land.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/2613564021273827479?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/2613564021273827479?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/z49TGdVelg8/health-slap-and-aggie-land.html" title="Health slap and Aggie Land" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/12/health-slap-and-aggie-land.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQNQngyeSp7ImA9WhRQEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-4261539035706512209</id><published>2011-12-07T08:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T08:46:33.691-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-07T08:46:33.691-08:00</app:edited><title>Christmas Battles</title><content type="html">Its beginning to look a lot like Christmas…… everywhere around me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The day after Thanksgiving I wanted nothing more that to hop in my car and drive to Snyder to get &lt;strike&gt;My &lt;/strike&gt;OUR Christmas stuff so I could decorate &lt;strike&gt;my&lt;/strike&gt; I mean my aunts house. I love Christmas time so so so much! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But….&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not this year. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel as if Depression has ripped my Holiday from me. I have no Joy, No Holiday Spirit, No Stockings, No tree full of homemade ornaments, and no exciting Trips to see my Dad and family. Just work and a trip to the beach with my family, which I should totally be excited about … but NOOOOO I have a black cloud over my head that robs me of any emotion but tears.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Growing up my I would hear my mom say “I battle with Depression” I never understood the word battle until lately. I literally FORCE myself to do normal things. Like get up and take a shower. I pep talk myself for the 8 hours I’m at work then I’m so worn out I fight anymore and go home and want to sleep or eat. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I’m FORCING myself to try and enjoy the holiday and the REASON behind it. At work yesterday they ask why the tree wasn’t up …. The Ladies at work told the boss because we just aren’t in the mood.. but he wanted it put up anyways so I said ME! I’ll Do it! Wow I thought to myself “a glimpse of “normal”me!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So what did I do this morning? I turned on Hillsong, Chris Tomlin, and Travis Cottrell Christmas and decorated the work Christmas Tree- with a smile! Yay Me!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1hNZXekDKWo/Tt-X-Tiy9fI/AAAAAAAAAO4/CdO3osgMeog/s1600/376268_901120735048_38706843_39292952_652645518_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" mda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1hNZXekDKWo/Tt-X-Tiy9fI/AAAAAAAAAO4/CdO3osgMeog/s320/376268_901120735048_38706843_39292952_652645518_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know it sounds silly but sometimes the smallest of accomplishments mean the most when “Battling”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1443823132"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0001924/"&gt;*** Don’t worry, I won’t be like this forever. I haven’t been blogging because I don’t want to be that Negative girl or have people tell me to just pray about it. That makes it so much worse. I know that I have a Savior that can HEAL me at ANY MOMENT. But I believe that God lets you experience and battle things actually. Depression and Bi-Polar disorder are real dieses that people choose to deal with in tons of different ways. I’m getting the help and that’s more than most. . If you’d like to understand more about whats going on with me you can read about it here. My post may be down one day and way way up the next. That’s my real life***&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-4261539035706512209?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WFQkTCZt2P4/TtLzmfSm3RI/AAAAAAAAAOg/cNWVkrSm4Pk/s1600/107875353543990948_yqUmjUfB_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WFQkTCZt2P4/TtLzmfSm3RI/AAAAAAAAAOg/cNWVkrSm4Pk/s1600/107875353543990948_yqUmjUfB_c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
This picture was my thanksgiving in a nutshell.... emotions running ramped leaving me worn out psychically, spiritually, and as always mentally.&lt;br /&gt;
I haven't blogged much because I'm trying the whole if you dont have anything nice don't say it at all trick... I'm getting help and dealing with my emotions so I'll be back to normal sarah in no time!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?&lt;/i&gt;      - L. M. Montgomery (1874-1942)&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--DLiN07-rSA/TtL0pAc1_qI/AAAAAAAAAOo/wEpR726bFvQ/s1600/53550683038716437_GfFiqFtN_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="201" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--DLiN07-rSA/TtL0pAc1_qI/AAAAAAAAAOo/wEpR726bFvQ/s320/53550683038716437_GfFiqFtN_c.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-4680553321104101815?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LpmRbzMAK0BNZWZpiqoYVNbpZ10/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LpmRbzMAK0BNZWZpiqoYVNbpZ10/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/7M1H-GsH3PQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/4680553321104101815/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/11/this-picture-was-my-thanksgiving-in.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/4680553321104101815?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/4680553321104101815?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/7M1H-GsH3PQ/this-picture-was-my-thanksgiving-in.html" title="" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WFQkTCZt2P4/TtLzmfSm3RI/AAAAAAAAAOg/cNWVkrSm4Pk/s72-c/107875353543990948_yqUmjUfB_c.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/11/this-picture-was-my-thanksgiving-in.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcEQXo_eCp7ImA9WhRTF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-53266066470909401</id><published>2011-11-07T17:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T17:33:20.440-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-07T17:33:20.440-08:00</app:edited><title>You're talkin to a stranger...</title><content type="html">&amp;nbsp;Some times when I can't put what I'm thinking or feeling into words I turn to my 3 trusted friends.... Lady A. I'm not one of those crazy crazy fans but they sure can put any mood or feeling into words! I love the new album but tonight I was brought back to their first album full of angst and breakup &lt;strike&gt;hate &lt;/strike&gt;strongly dislike.&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It’s so like you just to show up at my door&lt;br /&gt;
And act like nothin’s happened&lt;br /&gt;
You think I’ll sweep my heart up off the floor&lt;br /&gt;
And give it to you&lt;br /&gt;
Like so many times before&lt;br /&gt;
You’re talking to a stranger&lt;br /&gt;
I’m not that girl anymore&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 That girl is long gone&lt;br /&gt;
Boy you missed the boat it just sailed away&lt;br /&gt;
Long gone &lt;br /&gt;
She’s not drowning in her yesterdays&lt;br /&gt;
Betcha never thought I’d be that strong &lt;br /&gt;
Well this girl is long gone&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This song came on the radio on my way home from having dinner with a friend tonight... I couldn't help but think about the line you're talkin to a stranger... sometimes I feel like I am so much of a stranger I don't know myself.... that I just can't figure out who I am and who I want to be. I know who I am in Christ but lately I've felt that just knowing that isn't enough...&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Day 5 of no dr pepper.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-53266066470909401?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/phbHYinQS-xqByaqFXgIcOM-xYc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/phbHYinQS-xqByaqFXgIcOM-xYc/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/phbHYinQS-xqByaqFXgIcOM-xYc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/phbHYinQS-xqByaqFXgIcOM-xYc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/a8CvArv8vhI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/53266066470909401/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/11/youre-talkin-to-stranger.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/53266066470909401?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/53266066470909401?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/a8CvArv8vhI/youre-talkin-to-stranger.html" title="You're talkin to a stranger..." /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/11/youre-talkin-to-stranger.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUHQHc4eSp7ImA9WhdbFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-6599797105258959201</id><published>2011-10-15T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-15T09:47:11.931-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-15T09:47:11.931-07:00</app:edited><title>"I will try again tomorrow"</title><content type="html">&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;Courage does not always roar. Sometimes it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying.."I will try again tomorrow."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;
&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;
&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I stole this from my friend Jess's facebook.... I'm currently in Snyder fighting the urge to get in the car and run away to my bed in Austin. I feel defeated, I'd forgotten my love/hate relationship with my hometown. I'm struggling with my depression/anxiety being caused from my crazy hormones and female issues. It just makes it hard to stay calm and not freakout about silly thing :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;
&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Stephanie my childhood friend gets married today! Out of the 6 PHRATS girls and Abby ( everyone I graduated with) all are married but me and corie! Corie's got her life in order though. I told myself before walking into a room full of people whom I haven't seen in a while " Sarah no your not married, yes they are happy and have babies, but you've been to Australia, you've lived and have a very blessed different life than them. Your not better than them and they aren't better than you... your life is just ... different. "&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;
&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I realized that its me whos disappointed in myself for not being in Australia anymore. I know I didn't fail..... Gods plans were just not my plans... I need to figure out what God wants me to do next. I need to find my "climbing partners" and jump back in the ball game and find what makes me happy. My friend ask me the other night what makes me happy and I point blank said I have no clue anymore. I know what i should say but I honestly don't know...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;
&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;soooo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;
&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I know that Spanish Inn makes me happy... especially when I'm with my aunt peggy! I also know that watching my childhood BFF walking down the asle in her fairytale wedding will make me happy. I had a blast on the way here driving and jamming to my musicals! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;
&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;
&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm being courageous in saying no I'm not happy but I'll try again tomorrow :)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-6599797105258959201?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XPY1GCcNSrTwMkoKS3mh_3YjEE4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XPY1GCcNSrTwMkoKS3mh_3YjEE4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XPY1GCcNSrTwMkoKS3mh_3YjEE4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XPY1GCcNSrTwMkoKS3mh_3YjEE4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/cAp9V9ASiEA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/6599797105258959201/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-will-try-again-tomorrow.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/6599797105258959201?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/6599797105258959201?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/cAp9V9ASiEA/i-will-try-again-tomorrow.html" title="&quot;I will try again tomorrow&quot;" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-will-try-again-tomorrow.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04ER3c7fip7ImA9WhdUGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-2517260628461760141</id><published>2011-10-07T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T08:05:06.906-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-07T08:05:06.906-07:00</app:edited><title>Things I've learned in Traffic</title><content type="html">I, Sarah Victoria Carpenter, am not cut out for commuting. I hate traffic!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was having a hard time figuring out why I'm so so so exhausted this week.&amp;nbsp; Yes I'm standing on my feet all day but I should be used to it by now .... Then it hit me! I add about 2 hours to my day tensed up in traffic. .... it took me 2 hours to get home the other day... two hours! I know many people do this on a daily bases and I salute y'all!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So here are a few things I've learned this week.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Many people here in Austin release their stress but smoking a bong when gridlocked on Mopac.... I've seen it twice now. &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Don't be afraid to put your car in park and take off your shoes.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;It always comes in handy to have snacks or a drink specifically for your car ride. &lt;br /&gt;Sarah + Traffic+ Hunger= HULK&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;its nice to have your cell phone charged so that you may talk... not text but talk about how wonderful your day and ride home was...&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Also you should rememeber that just because someone is in the exit only lane does not mean they are actually going to exit... they are just speeding around you to get 6 cars ahead and then come to a complete stop!&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mom says books on tape work so I'm going to try that out&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
Do you have any good tips for commuting or sitting in traffic for hours a day?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-2517260628461760141?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dQ5Gb42MrgZ8i8h8_YwhdoB_ZJ0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dQ5Gb42MrgZ8i8h8_YwhdoB_ZJ0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dQ5Gb42MrgZ8i8h8_YwhdoB_ZJ0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dQ5Gb42MrgZ8i8h8_YwhdoB_ZJ0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/0y-BXCFjaV8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/2517260628461760141/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/10/things-ive-learned-in-traffic.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/2517260628461760141?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/2517260628461760141?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/0y-BXCFjaV8/things-ive-learned-in-traffic.html" title="Things I've learned in Traffic" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/10/things-ive-learned-in-traffic.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YNRXc_eyp7ImA9WhdUGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-5852137200844878612</id><published>2011-10-05T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T17:33:14.943-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-05T17:33:14.943-07:00</app:edited><title>Mermaid or Whale</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="caption"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K4UedO1ZXig/Toz2wFMP1AI/AAAAAAAAAOI/iDQFicvDE-Q/s1600/320756_2545702681966_1235752135_33215266_1101898257_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K4UedO1ZXig/Toz2wFMP1AI/AAAAAAAAAOI/iDQFicvDE-Q/s320/320756_2545702681966_1235752135_33215266_1101898257_n.jpg" width="270" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4e8cf62db333c3d21829725"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4e8cf62db333c3d21829725"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I saw this on my Facebook feed this tonight. I instantly wanted to copy it and print it out to hang on my mirror.&amp;nbsp; I figured I'd blog about it. It seems as thought my life is so full of drama and crap lately... I feel myself wanting to sleep and disappear to never never land aka sydney! This brought such a needed smile to my face so I hope it does yours to :)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4e8cf62db333c3d21829725"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4e8cf62db333c3d21829725"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;A while back, at the entrance of a gym, there was a picture of a very thin and b&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;eautiful woman. The caption was "This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; The story goes, a woman (of clothing size unknown) answered the following way: &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
 "Dear people, whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, seals,
 curious humans), they are sexually active and raise their children with
 great tenderness.&lt;br /&gt; They entertain like crazy with dolphins and eat 
lots of prawns. They swim all day and travel to fantastic places like 
Patagonia, the Barents Sea or the coral reefs of Polynesia.&lt;br /&gt; They 
sing incredibly well and sometimes even are on cds. They are impressive 
and dearly loved animals, which everyone defend and admires.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Mermaids do not exist.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; But if they existed, they would line up to see a psychologist because of a problem of split personality: woman or fish?&lt;br /&gt; They would have no sex life and could not bear children.&lt;br /&gt; Yes, they would be lovely, but lonely and sad.&lt;br /&gt; And, who wants a girl that smells like fish by his side?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Without a doubt, I'd rather be a whale.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
 At a time when the media tells us that only thin is beautiful, I prefer
 to eat ice cream with my kids, to have dinner with my husband, to eat 
and drink and have fun with my friends.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; We women, we gain 
weight because we accumulate so much wisdom and knowledge that there 
isn't enough space in our heads, and it spreads all over our bodies.&lt;br /&gt; We are not fat, we are greatly cultivated.&lt;br /&gt; Every time I see my curves in the mirror, I tell myself: "How amazing am I ?! "&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; (The girl on the picture is French model Tara Lynn)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="mts uiAttachmentDesc translationEligibleUserAttachmentMessage"&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div class="fsm fwn fcg"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;By: &lt;span class="uiAttachmentDetails" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:12}"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/kwebekwe"&gt;Delphine Fieberg&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-5852137200844878612?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zjlJAt1ec8aaWnd_EO9tVnZfYTI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zjlJAt1ec8aaWnd_EO9tVnZfYTI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/lKlOaNSRWgE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/5852137200844878612/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/10/mermaid-or-whale.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/5852137200844878612?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/5852137200844878612?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/lKlOaNSRWgE/mermaid-or-whale.html" title="Mermaid or Whale" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K4UedO1ZXig/Toz2wFMP1AI/AAAAAAAAAOI/iDQFicvDE-Q/s72-c/320756_2545702681966_1235752135_33215266_1101898257_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/10/mermaid-or-whale.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEINQno9fCp7ImA9WhdUEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-6836086162538215968</id><published>2011-09-28T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T19:16:33.464-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-28T19:16:33.464-07:00</app:edited><title>Wired for Wranglers?</title><content type="html">I'm sorry but Country Singers shouldn't paint on their pants...&lt;br /&gt;
What happened to the days when cowboys and country stars wore nice wranglers or cinch jeans?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was watching Ellen today and just didn't care for Luke Bryan's jeans... granted im the loser at home on the couch but still... come on .. your not Mick Jagger or some other 80's star in Tights&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Maybe its just me but&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_b1S5PjTa9Y/ToPTVvsLR4I/AAAAAAAAAOA/Mv9Pn70mGBo/s1600/Cowboys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="185" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_b1S5PjTa9Y/ToPTVvsLR4I/AAAAAAAAAOA/Mv9Pn70mGBo/s320/Cowboys.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Is way more attractive than&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xkwP-Pl5tiU/ToPTVyJ6t0I/AAAAAAAAAOE/4TyhcJlv_hM/s1600/skinny-jeans-on-men1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="154" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xkwP-Pl5tiU/ToPTVyJ6t0I/AAAAAAAAAOE/4TyhcJlv_hM/s320/skinny-jeans-on-men1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Just sayin...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
maybe its in my genes...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I could just be wired for wrangers...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-6836086162538215968?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U-mWM6KdrEAni0FIsGf5wP_Aswk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U-mWM6KdrEAni0FIsGf5wP_Aswk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/Q__TwwwcfPo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/6836086162538215968/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/09/wired-for-wranglers.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/6836086162538215968?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/6836086162538215968?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/Q__TwwwcfPo/wired-for-wranglers.html" title="Wired for Wranglers?" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_b1S5PjTa9Y/ToPTVvsLR4I/AAAAAAAAAOA/Mv9Pn70mGBo/s72-c/Cowboys.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/09/wired-for-wranglers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MBSH04fyp7ImA9WhdUEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-5605417262587904259</id><published>2011-09-26T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T18:04:19.337-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-26T18:04:19.337-07:00</app:edited><title>Not me Monday</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/OUAB/NotMeMondayButtonV6copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="Mckmama- Not Me Monday" border="0" src="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/OUAB/NotMeMondayButtonV6copy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by &lt;a &amp;nbsp;="" href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net/"&gt;MckMama&lt;/a&gt;. You can head over to &amp;lt; target="_blank" href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net"&amp;gt;her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week. This hopefullly won't be my last "not me" Monday post.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I did not have an interview at a lingerie shop today, nope not me. I also didn't do great at the interview because I could sale to the "average or plus size customers" HAHA I also did not feel guilty for even interviewing at this place, but I could be a light anywhere I work. I think the bird and the dog are tired of me&amp;nbsp; "shining my light from the house"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&amp;nbsp; did not cry for about 3 hours today. I feel like I'm in a stupid depression hurts commercial- please don't freakout about this statement.......if you know me you know my hormones are crazy wacked and im totally okay.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I most Definallty didn't come home from the gym and eat more double stuffed Oreo. Maybe I'll go back in a few hours!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Overall its been a not so great Monday! Things are looking up though!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-5605417262587904259?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2G-iIZt4Aha_wbBX5WHe_uukREg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2G-iIZt4Aha_wbBX5WHe_uukREg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/wHXQHFMvECI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/5605417262587904259/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/09/not-me-monday.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/5605417262587904259?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/5605417262587904259?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/wHXQHFMvECI/not-me-monday.html" title="Not me Monday" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r208/jennisajoy/OUAB/th_NotMeMondayButtonV6copy.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/09/not-me-monday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QNQng9fCp7ImA9WhdUEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-1661765250566681703</id><published>2011-09-26T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T10:49:53.664-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-26T10:49:53.664-07:00</app:edited><title>Cheekys' Brow Blog!</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h1 class="entry-title"&gt;

&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Cheeky's brow blog!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;
&lt;h1 class="entry-title"&gt;

&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I was super excited to read this on &lt;a href="http://cheekyskin.com/"&gt;cheeky's&lt;/a&gt; blog the other day! Much to my surprise finally my bushy eye brows are "in". Check it out and book online to get your eyebrows looking great!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;
&lt;h1 class="entry-title"&gt;

&amp;nbsp;&lt;/h1&gt;
&lt;h1 class="entry-title"&gt;

&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939"&gt;Tweeze No&amp;nbsp;More!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;
&lt;div class="entry-meta"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939"&gt;&lt;span class="sep"&gt;Posted on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939" rel="bookmark" title="6:20 pm"&gt;&lt;time class="entry-date" datetime="2011-09-21T18:20:23+00:00" pubdate=""&gt;September 21, 2011&lt;/time&gt;		&lt;/a&gt;
			&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="entry-content"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939"&gt;Looking younger might have just gotten easier without all of the 
hassle. No more sitting in the car tweezing your brows in the mirror 
because that’s where you get the best light. Leave those hairs alone 
because lush, bushy eyebrows are “in”! Let your brows enhance your eyes 
and face naturally. Sometimes having a sharp, precise shape to your 
brows looks a little harsh and may make you look a little more aged. 
Instead, opt to have a softer, more natural look this fall and make your
 own conclusions. Don’t get me wrong, you still need to groom your brows
 so they don’t grow out of control and turn into a uni-brow, just manage
 them appropriately.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939"&gt;Bad Brows:&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939" rel="attachment wp-att-156"&gt;&lt;img alt="" class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-156" height="300" src="http://cheekysblog.files.wordpress.com/2011/09/lourdes-leon-hija-madonna-carlos.jpg?w=216&amp;amp;h=300" title="lourdes-leon-hija-madonna-carlos" width="216" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939"&gt;Great Brows:&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939" rel="attachment wp-att-157" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-157" height="300" src="http://cheekysblog.files.wordpress.com/2011/09/jennifer-connelly-0003.jpg?w=216&amp;amp;h=300" title="Jennifer Connelly-0003" width="216" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939"&gt;Let us help you get those &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939"&gt;perfect brows&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939"&gt; that will enhance your natural beauty! To make even more of a statement you can always &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1103338939"&gt;tint your lashes and brows&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://cheekyskin.com/"&gt; to enhance the natural color of your hair. This really makes your eyes pop!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-1661765250566681703?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u7XfzAPr-mKOF40NDWEXRfXu7e0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u7XfzAPr-mKOF40NDWEXRfXu7e0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~4/JiakaHobuso" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/feeds/1661765250566681703/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/09/cheekys-brow-blog.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/1661765250566681703?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2398514882217224168/posts/default/1661765250566681703?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/StartingOverInASlightlyDifferentPlace/~3/JiakaHobuso/cheekys-brow-blog.html" title="Cheekys' Brow Blog!" /><author><name>Sarah Victoria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17531681210395384432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dmvaF2HGVIo/TUVMGoQQTaI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/u_2PpEbZFKI/s220/161350_38706843_68229_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://chickenchick05.blogspot.com/2011/09/cheekys-brow-blog.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcCSH8zcSp7ImA9WhdVF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2398514882217224168.post-17102163896111263</id><published>2011-09-23T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T10:14:29.189-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-23T10:14:29.189-07:00</app:edited><title>Yards and Bones</title><content type="html">I HATE YARD WORK&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My mom always says "you don't hate anything, you strongly dislike it"&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;well I really hate Yard work.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I've had this daunting list of things to do to help out my aunt.&lt;/div&gt;
&amp;lt;&amp;lt;&amp;lt;&amp;lt;&amp;lt;&amp;lt;&amp;lt; read with a smile on your face &amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I was informed that this seemed rude. I love living here and because I'm a total loser at the moment I really don't mind having things to do, I even said "make me a list" I realize that "taking me to the grocery store" is just as annoying as yardwork. I just wanted to clarify that this in no way was negative against my aunt or her list, I'm acutally in hopes that she will leave me another one next week :) &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I've beasted on the list but left all the yard work for the last day thinking maybe it i wished hard enough it would go away.&amp;nbsp; The second to the last thing on the list says "rake out grass ect out of flower beds..." I started it the other day but it just made me so mad... its not grass its 2 ft long weeds with roots and annoyance. so I worked for about an hour day before yesterday and just made a mess. I set my alarm this morning to get up early and work while it was cool so I couldn't use the fact that Im allergic to heat ( like my mom) as an excuse. After about 40 mins of work its still a MESS. I HATE YARD WORK.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Speaking of yard work, my aunt and I majorly worked on the back yard a few weeks ago. It looks great! Jingles had been spending more time outside lately so I though he was just happy to have his yard back without being eaten by leaves.&amp;nbsp; I had a weird day yesterday so last night I was super excited to watch Grey's and lay on the couch ( even though I'm jobless I don't lay on the couch all day ) anyways I was laying here and see Jingles come in with a GIANT BONE. It was about a foot long which is way Giant for Jingles. I yelled and got a towel picked it up and send a picture to my aunt. I wanted to make sure this wasn't his "long lost favorite toy" but deep down I knew that he was no way allowed to have this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you know me you know I watch way to much TV, one of my favorite shows being BONES. If you've seen bones you know they start the same way every time, freaky things happen and you find bones.&lt;br /&gt;
While freaking out with my aunt on the phone I kept telling her if Jingles brings in a skull I was not going to be a happy camper! Of course she calmed me down but still...... I dreamed of bones in the yard all night. All I could think about was raking in the yard and finding a dead body.....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7Nh34yD6dWc/TnyQijSYKCI/AAAAAAAAAN8/6qgDjdv76uk/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7Nh34yD6dWc/TnyQijSYKCI/AAAAAAAAAN8/6qgDjdv76uk/s320/002.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
So If you can tell me what kind of bone this is it would help greatly with my metal state :)&lt;br /&gt;
I know its not a human one but you have to admit, you might freak out too!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Imoff to do the last thing on my list- "Search and Destroy all&amp;nbsp; McDonalds/Sonic cups!" My aunt is a funny funny lady&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-17102163896111263?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
The job search is going alright..... Ive had a few interviews and leads... I know God knows what he's doing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm currently watching the biggest loser trying my hardest not to go to the fridge for some munchies....&lt;br /&gt;
I didn't get to go to the casting call in austin though I seriously thought about it... I know I can do it at home!&lt;br /&gt;
Speaking of weight loss I got on the scale yesterday and enjoyed what I saw! being 249 was exciting! it may be just one lb but its still under 250!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Glee was super exciting this evening! Always so uplifting and encouraging me to sing again!&lt;br /&gt;
Speaking of singing! I went and checked out Austin Harmony Chorus last night! It was pretty fun!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Stephanie's wedding is in about a month&amp;nbsp; so Im super looking forward to going home and seeing people! I may even have a plus one- just a friend but still it would be nice to not go to another wedding alone!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
If you've been around me in the past year you know that my emotions mixed with my hormones = crazy tears&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've done nothing this week but lay around and cry. &lt;br /&gt;
I did go for a walk a few times..... But came back and proceeded to cry lol&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tonight while watching the Emmys I cried again! Melissa McCarthy won best lead actress in a comedy for mike and Molly! It was refreshing to see her with all those beautiful tiny actresses :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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Austin is such a big city but is quite lonely sometimes!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2398514882217224168-4876476734481398176?l=chickenchick05.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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We were having a grand ol time clapping and cheering... I was trying to figure out out I could take lessons on how to be hot by MISS Drag Queen Texas... some of those men/women were way prettier than me! Then I see a sign that said "&lt;i&gt; we fought in silence but served with pride.&lt;/i&gt;" Immediately the tears start falling... I of course try to hide/stop it and by that time my aunt had noticed and smile and gave me some water. I said " What straight girl cries at a pride parade?" " I can't believe I'm crying" Something inside me just churned! I wanted to go thank each and ever one of those men and women in uniform! They were fighting to keep us safe and free and had to lie about who they are. it just baffles me. I thought about my aunt who was in the arming, lying saying I'm straight when everyone knows shes not..... how crazy&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later that night I was at dinner with my aunt and her friends when I said something about church. A friend asked me if I was religious.... I hate that question, because the definition is so different to everyone... so I just said "yes. I'm a Christian" suddlenly the whole bar was staring at me... it felt like an hour but was only about 30 secs...........to break the silence I started laughing and said but I'm not going to hit you over the head with a bible... I'm not a bible thumper, then my aunt jumped in and everyone laughed. I love my aunt's friends. They are always so welcoming and include me with out making me feel like the "straight one" but in that moment I felt like I had a glimpse of what it must feel like for them sometimes. To be so judged left me feeling vulnerable and bare. I could never live my life like that... it would drive me crazy...&lt;br /&gt;
Which brought me back to the parade and the people walking in it and maybe why my heart hurt for them but in a oddly happy way. Believe what you want but I felt like God gave me my tender heart for a reason and allowed me to feel something special for the men in women who are still out there protecting our country while serving in silence.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbQmSeQNn0/TmrK_K1KbQI/AAAAAAAAAN0/L-Cudi8nJ5E/s1600/177512097_jOJDxxFK_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZFbQmSeQNn0/TmrK_K1KbQI/AAAAAAAAAN0/L-Cudi8nJ5E/s320/177512097_jOJDxxFK_c.jpg" width="314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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