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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192</id><updated>2009-09-09T05:52:24.182-07:00</updated><title type="text">Through the Looking Glass</title><subtitle type="html">Stuff and Nonsense of My Own Invention</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1411</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/ThroughTheLookingGlass" type="application/atom+xml" /><feedburner:browserFriendly>This is an XML content feed. It is intended to be viewed in a newsreader or syndicated to another site, subject to copyright and fair use.</feedburner:browserFriendly><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114775585348393687</id><published>2006-05-15T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T22:22:05.666-07:00</updated><title type="text">Did you miss me?</title><summary type="html">I was gone for a few hours. Because...Vicki made me this. I was importing a bajillion posts, which took approximately forever. Please update your bookmarks and blogrolls accordingly. And let me know if you run into any bugs.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/zssB7eW7SmA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114775585348393687" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114775585348393687" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/did-you-miss-me.html" title="Did you miss me?" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114771452916932992</id><published>2006-05-15T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T16:31:23.473-07:00</updated><title type="text">Important poll!</title><summary type="html">Well, question, as I am too lazy to set up a poll.If two people who are expecting a baby any day now were to receive an Amazon gift certificate with an accompanying note congratulating them on the addition to their family, ought they buy:things for the babyorDeadwood season 2?EDIT: Two things!1. We don't have TV so DVDs are the only television I can watch. 2. I am not remotely worried about the &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/Asjd1voOUZM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114771452916932992" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114771452916932992" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/important-poll.html" title="Important poll!" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114771113246600815</id><published>2006-05-15T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T22:30:58.610-07:00</updated><title type="text">Just don't ask where I am planning to put the baby.</title><summary type="html">I have a deadline today, which I will be lucky to make, so naturally all I want to do is blog.I am listening to Peter and the Wolf. My CD drive is making all sorts of awful noises as it attempts to import a CD (Tori Amos). I wonder why it is so much trouble? I have been copying CDs to iTunes all morning (anything to avoid meeting that deadline).The basket holds diapering things and I intend for &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/BC6FeS_cNPs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114771113246600815" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114771113246600815" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/just-dont-ask-where-i-am-planning-to.html" title="Just don't ask where I am planning to put the baby." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114763132181307496</id><published>2006-05-14T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T11:19:22.476-07:00</updated><title type="text">Where did THAT come from?</title><summary type="html">I think my body has just developed its own weirdo brand of nesting. I sure as hell haven't been cleaning, but yesterday I managed to leave the house and Do Stuff all day without running out of energy or getting grumpy. This would have been a miracle a year ago, nevermind during my pregnancy thusfar.After being awake from 6:00 I got back in bed at 8:00 for snuggles and slept until after ten. I &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/4B8NwAGAwHU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114763132181307496" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114763132181307496" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/where-did-that-come-from.html" title="Where did THAT come from?" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114752955906215360</id><published>2006-05-13T07:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T01:32:33.360-07:00</updated><title type="text">And then it hit us.</title><summary type="html">Will unpacks the box, reads the instructions, and starts assembling.Suddenly, there is a playpen in our living room.Neither of us anticipated this. (Not the least because what we are assembling isn't a playpen in its primary function, but nevermind.) We don't know how to react. We are getting a real, honest-to-god baby.We finish assembling and wrestle it into the bedroom. I spend most of the &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/azztj4CjyP0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114752955906215360" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114752955906215360" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/and-then-it-hit-us.html" title="And then it hit us." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114748529557937293</id><published>2006-05-12T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T04:00:04.486-07:00</updated><title type="text">Quote of the Day</title><summary type="html">Will, after we got the Co-Sleeper assembled: "Kulia can come over and make out with you any time."&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/hZ39lAHGqRc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114748529557937293" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114748529557937293" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/quote-of-day.html" title="Quote of the Day" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114747127194620811</id><published>2006-05-12T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T20:45:26.970-07:00</updated><title type="text">And also!</title><summary type="html">We really need to figure out who is getting a phone call when the baby arrivesBut first, more napping. And then when Will gets home we can tackle the list.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/dfJ2VT5QCyg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114747127194620811" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114747127194620811" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/and-also.html" title="And also!" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114747056584609481</id><published>2006-05-12T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T14:57:15.533-07:00</updated><title type="text">oops.</title><summary type="html">Maybe that list should look more like:lunchnapsecond lunchI'm not in labor yet, but it doesn't look likely that anything but eating and sleeping is going to happen today.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/92ARaEJ9GPU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114747056584609481" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114747056584609481" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/oops.html" title="oops." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114745789044665128</id><published>2006-05-12T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T23:03:11.913-07:00</updated><title type="text">Actual to-do list, not to be confused with all those wishful thinking to-do lists</title><summary type="html">Buy hose, drop cloth, bulb aspirator, diaper thingyClean bedroom and set up co-sleeperLaundryOrder gliderBuy more Morningstar Farms frozen foodsGet stuff for SariaSew PUL backings onto flannel piecesMail cardsGet over the idea of having announcements readyClean bathroomvacuumHere's the interactive part: Will's mom is sending us a check for the glider we liked. Despite our insistence that we would&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/ThwOsqt2bfk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114745789044665128" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114745789044665128" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/actual-to-do-list-not-to-be-confused.html" title="Actual to-do list, not to be confused with all those wishful thinking to-do lists" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114741619533905730</id><published>2006-05-11T23:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T04:03:19.980-07:00</updated><title type="text">Man, my bathroom mirror is FILTHY.</title><summary type="html">But look at that fat-cheeked grin. I can't wait for this baby. Housecleaning be damned.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/fXbs7NHtiNc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114741619533905730" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114741619533905730" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/man-my-bathroom-mirror-is-filthy.html" title="Man, my bathroom mirror is FILTHY." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114737089372213201</id><published>2006-05-11T11:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T13:58:13.483-07:00</updated><title type="text">I suck!</title><summary type="html">First I buggered up my email so I am not receiving everything.Now I have started (inadvertantly!) deleting comments instead of approving them.Argh.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/Adp1u8kCBgY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114737089372213201" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114737089372213201" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-suck.html" title="I suck!" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114736538125935695</id><published>2006-05-11T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T20:44:30.266-07:00</updated><title type="text">gestation update</title><summary type="html">Unlike some people, I am not having a baby today. (I know the day isn't over yet, so it's possible, but I kinda doubt it.) I almost expected to, because my mother had me two weeks early, and Will's mother had him two weeks early, and here it is two weeks till my due date. I've been having "practice" contractions, and one woke me up in the night (or, you know, coincided with having to pee, you be &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/-vVLou52dQs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114736538125935695" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114736538125935695" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/gestation-update.html" title="gestation update" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114727986977475819</id><published>2006-05-10T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T09:24:42.556-07:00</updated><title type="text">This is how we do things in the country.</title><summary type="html">I am one of those people who believes that my art has integrity and won't compromise it. That is why I make so little art.Generally speaking, my art is the written word. Except for this blog, I have been extremely neglectful of writing lately. In January I started a screenplay that should have been finished within the month, but instead is still on page 6. Even though I know what is going to &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/oyPLtUw5EeI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114727986977475819" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114727986977475819" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/this-is-how-we-do-things-in-country.html" title="This is how we do things in the country." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114723198727881893</id><published>2006-05-09T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T20:48:34.046-07:00</updated><title type="text">The one where I was an honest-to-god stalker, but just for an hour.</title><summary type="html">When I was 13 my friend Gabe and I (Gabe is a girl) followed a boy (maybe 15) through Manhattan because we thought he was cute. We spotted him on the bus, though I can't imagine why we were on the bus since she lived half a block from school. Maybe we'd gone somewhere? Maybe we were going to my apartment? Anyway, we got off the bus when he did and followed him to a private school where he picked &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/8VPBWYVw5aQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114723198727881893" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114723198727881893" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/one-where-i-was-honest-to-god-stalker.html" title="The one where I was an honest-to-god stalker, but just for an hour." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114720648387902959</id><published>2006-05-09T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T21:54:48.263-07:00</updated><title type="text">Actual words that came out of my mouth today.</title><summary type="html">"I'm sorry. I'm nine months pregnant."I was trying to excuse myself for first handing the cashier an expired credit card and then, instead of giving her my other credit card, handing her back the same one.It occurs to me that when she asked if I needed help out to the car, she might have been expressing concern rather than following protocol.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/tQfmFqyrVV8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114720648387902959" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114720648387902959" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/actual-words-that-came-out-of-my-mouth.html" title="Actual words that came out of my mouth today." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114720640881330256</id><published>2006-05-09T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T16:44:57.330-07:00</updated><title type="text">Shopping list</title><summary type="html">flax seed oilhoseshower curtain or plastic dropclothdiaper depositorylanoline(Lilypadz)arnicaBurt's Bees butt creamtowelsbaby soapthermometer, nail scissors, bulb thingy, and any other baby med supplies(maybe a pump and some bottles)cards$3.65/gallon gasoline *faint*&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/qCJZg-bwRws" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114720640881330256" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114720640881330256" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/shopping-list.html" title="Shopping list" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114717870890518046</id><published>2006-05-09T05:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T12:55:37.786-07:00</updated><title type="text">insomnia</title><summary type="html">I am starting to think that being kept up all night by the baby would be preferable to this. At least I will have someone to talk to! I've been up since about 4:00 and by the time I am able to fall asleep again I won't be able to as I have a 9:30 appointment.I am still doggedly trying (sloooowly) to make the sewn wrap-style diaper covers. I have gotten as far as cutting out the pieces, and it &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/_kuGmOVPhl8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114717870890518046" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114717870890518046" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/insomnia.html" title="insomnia" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114712597138045353</id><published>2006-05-08T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T18:32:40.680-07:00</updated><title type="text">The tards get iChat</title><summary type="html">Only Will and I could manage to take an hour to get onto each other's Buddy lists.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/JgWb1H0yFsA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114712597138045353" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114712597138045353" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/tards-get-ichat.html" title="The tards get iChat" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114705456784538845</id><published>2006-05-07T18:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T13:07:42.976-07:00</updated><title type="text">Nobody blogs on Sundays.</title><summary type="html">I was getting annoyed, and then it occurred to me that I was part of the problem. And so I blog. (Also, it seems that when I don't update people think I have gone into labor, which is hilarious because it isn't looking like we will have a baby before June, or before my hip gives out, whichever comes first.)This has been a really delicious weekend. On Friday I made Will a delicious redmeat treat &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/No3fBGz-TEY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114705456784538845" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114705456784538845" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/nobody-blogs-on-sundays.html" title="Nobody blogs on Sundays." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114692758564946199</id><published>2006-05-06T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T20:51:12.223-07:00</updated><title type="text">I need four million dollars.</title><summary type="html">RIGHT NOW.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/R0g2xP6GUZc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114692758564946199" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114692758564946199" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-need-four-million-dollars.html" title="I need four million dollars." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114692449209856025</id><published>2006-05-06T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T07:08:12.113-07:00</updated><title type="text">Awesome search stats!</title><summary type="html">germany lolita fuck films - Yahoo! Search Results&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/Mf-41MDfZJI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114692449209856025" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114692449209856025" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/awesome-search-stats.html" title="Awesome search stats!" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114692348739310767</id><published>2006-05-06T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T15:48:27.756-07:00</updated><title type="text">All over Battersea, some hope and some despair.</title><summary type="html">Mama: 181.5Baby: 6.5Daddy: DATA UNAVAILABLE&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/d4GGuHKk3mU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114692348739310767" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114692348739310767" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/all-over-battersea-some-hope-and-some.html" title="All over Battersea, some hope and some despair." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114685287737058239</id><published>2006-05-05T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T20:27:12.913-07:00</updated><title type="text">37 weeks: pictures</title><summary type="html">Belly! And of course, Great Cthulhu (who I know isn't actually an octopus):&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/q43FrANssrQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114685287737058239" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114685287737058239" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/37-weeks-pictures.html" title="37 weeks: pictures" /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114684966904779823</id><published>2006-05-05T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T18:55:57.633-07:00</updated><title type="text">Things.</title><summary type="html">Yesterday brought more delights - the UPS redelivery was the co-sleeper. The box had two address labels on it (I don't know why). The labels were right next to each other. One of them had my full address including apartment number. The other just had my street address. The box was held because there was no apartment number. Dear UPS: You are lacking in basic reading comprehension skills.Though I &lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/UZxewxZQhfw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114684966904779823" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114684966904779823" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/things.html" title="Things." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708192.post-114677149260391176</id><published>2006-05-04T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T12:38:12.803-07:00</updated><title type="text">Will and I saw some movies.</title><summary type="html">He wrote about them.&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ThroughTheLookingGlass/~4/JWYwOwYolpg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</summary><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114677149260391176" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3708192/posts/default/114677149260391176" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://noirbettie.blogspot.com/2006/05/will-and-i-saw-some-movies.html" title="Will and I saw some movies." /><author><name>Annika</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240951273069918462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" name="OpenSocialUserId" value="13884597674249109251" /></author></entry></feed>
