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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UGQXg4fCp7ImA9WhVbFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467</id><updated>2012-05-31T22:27:00.634-05:00</updated><category term="June 2012 Blog-a-Day" /><category term="PSA" /><category term="Mini•Blog" /><category term="Soapbox Shorties" /><title>Ponderings &amp; Pensées</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>49</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/ponderingspensees" /><feedburner:info uri="ponderingspensees" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>ponderingspensees</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8BRnk_cCp7ImA9WhVbEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-3976521593793014287</id><published>2012-05-21T20:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-05-25T22:44:17.748-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-25T22:44:17.748-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="June 2012 Blog-a-Day" /><title>I Feel an Idea Coming on...</title><content type="html">You may or may not know this (depending on just how long you've been subjected to my nonsense), but this blog - &lt;i&gt;Ponderings &amp;amp; Pensées&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;- was originally hosted on blogger as http://aquirkaday.blogspot.com. It still gets you here, but I abandoned it for the much more fun (for me) staciedenola.com. I don't remember quite why I came up with "a quirk a day" so many years ago, but this humble blog has never lived up to such a name. Actually, it never was even intended to be a daily blog... things in my brain sometimes just... "happen." It doesn't necessarily require rhyme or reason...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That said, I'm conjuring up a personal challenge for myself for this summer. What I am considering is... a blog post per day every day during the month of June. Granted, that is a tall order for me, but I'm sort of craving a new challenge... and if I give myself a little grace, I think I can be up for it. So, I'm thinking that it wouldn't necessarily have to be a long, drawn-out post each day... but could even be as simple as a picture I came across that I appreciate &amp;amp; why... or something funny that I overheard... or a short anecdotal story... It can be done. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So we'll see... perhaps June 1 I will start on this little blogging journey. Will you join me? :)&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=De5MAMciJp8:Nxom42MCz40:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=De5MAMciJp8:Nxom42MCz40:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=De5MAMciJp8:Nxom42MCz40:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/De5MAMciJp8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/3976521593793014287/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=3976521593793014287" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/3976521593793014287?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/3976521593793014287?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/De5MAMciJp8/i-feel-idea-coming-on.html" title="I Feel an Idea Coming on..." /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/05/i-feel-idea-coming-on.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8ARXg_cSp7ImA9WhVUFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-3860595584830985587</id><published>2012-05-20T19:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-05-20T23:17:24.649-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-20T23:17:24.649-05:00</app:edited><title>Don't Be Skerred</title><content type="html">&amp;quot;Psht, I ain&amp;#39;t skerred.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Now there&amp;#39;s something you might hear me say when I&amp;#39;m being silly and trying to sound as gangsta as possible for a lil white 30-year old woman; but the truth is, I am &amp;quot;skerred.&amp;quot; I&amp;#39;m scared of lots of things. Lots and lots of scary things.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/05/dont-be-skerred.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-3860595584830985587?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/lNm1kkP4KyE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/3860595584830985587/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=3860595584830985587" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/3860595584830985587?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/3860595584830985587?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/lNm1kkP4KyE/dont-be-skerred.html" title="Don't Be Skerred" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/05/dont-be-skerred.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YHQXw9cSp7ImA9WhVUFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-6377499748499976530</id><published>2012-05-13T11:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-05-19T22:38:50.269-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-19T22:38:50.269-05:00</app:edited><title>Smile Though Your Heart is Breaking</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;
&amp;quot;Don&amp;#39;t cry because it&amp;#39;s over. Smile because it happened.&amp;quot; ~Dr. Seuss&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
I&amp;#39;d love to learn to default to this. What a fantastic outlook on life... gonna have to start working on that starting today.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
I love people. There have been times when someone has gotten imbedded in my heart so deeply so quickly that if I have to say goodbye for whatever reason, my heart literally breaks. If I were able to heed those words though - &amp;quot;Don&amp;#39;t cry because it&amp;#39;s over...&amp;quot; maybe it would be a little easier.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/05/smile-though-your-heart-is-breaking.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-6377499748499976530?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/Ch7tZAyDUGE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/6377499748499976530/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=6377499748499976530" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/6377499748499976530?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/6377499748499976530?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/Ch7tZAyDUGE/smile-though-your-heart-is-breaking.html" title="Smile Though Your Heart is Breaking" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/05/smile-though-your-heart-is-breaking.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08EQ3s7eyp7ImA9WhVVFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-5176883345790519875</id><published>2012-04-22T15:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-05-07T20:16:42.503-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-07T20:16:42.503-05:00</app:edited><title>Stand Up</title><content type="html">I&amp;#39;m learning. I&amp;#39;m learning that I have a certain set of callings, and the older I get, the more aware I am becoming of what they are. This post is about one of them.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
This life mission has 2 ingredients. The first has to do with the fact that I&amp;#39;ve always known that I love people. All people at first. Then as they&amp;#39;re weeded out - the good from the evil - I keep the good ones close in my heart. And there are lots of good ones. :)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The second ingredient is a deep-seated need for justice and fairness. (See post on this here: &lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/11/diary-of-crazy-cajun-lady.html" target="_blank"&gt;&amp;quot;Diary of a Crazy Cajun Lady.&amp;quot;&lt;/a&gt;). There are few things that can really get me riled up, and most of the time people would consider me pretty meek &amp;amp; mild. But if I judge something to be either partially or entirely unfair - especially something that directly affects me or one of the above mentioned beloved - I can be quite the little pepper.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
When these two come together, they can be explosive. In my heart of hearts I feel an incredible urge to push others to &lt;i&gt;love themselves enough&lt;/i&gt; to fight for fairness in their own lives. Simply stated, I need to encourage people to stand up for themselves - because frankly, it&amp;#39;s tiring to fight for justice 24/7 on others&amp;#39; behalf (Superman). You might think, &amp;quot;Well, Stacie, you don&amp;#39;t &lt;i&gt;have to&lt;/i&gt; do that,&amp;quot; but you&amp;#39;d be wrong. I do.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/04/stand-up.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-5176883345790519875?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/8X57y7c7lHI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/5176883345790519875/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=5176883345790519875" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/5176883345790519875?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/5176883345790519875?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/8X57y7c7lHI/stand-up.html" title="Stand Up" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/04/stand-up.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEHQX8zfSp7ImA9WhVQFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-2821957582341391388</id><published>2012-04-04T22:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-04-05T21:00:30.185-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-05T21:00:30.185-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Soapbox Shorties" /><title>Tech(nically) (Un)support(ive)</title><content type="html">Are you having problems with your HTC or some other Android device? You could always scour forums on the web for hours in search of solutions to your issues. But let me tell you, everyone is having the same problem as you and will either (a) have zero answers at all; or (b) have &lt;i&gt;an&lt;/i&gt; answer - but not one that works for you even though it seems to work for 5 out of 7 people who responded to that same post for some God-unknown reason. Of course, you could always call tech support, but please allow me to save you a little trouble on that front. The following is a frighteningly accurate representation of how that conversation with go.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/04/technically-unsupportive.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-2821957582341391388?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/RACOcbAJWYg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/2821957582341391388/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=2821957582341391388" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/2821957582341391388?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/2821957582341391388?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/RACOcbAJWYg/technically-unsupportive.html" title="Tech(nically) (Un)support(ive)" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/04/technically-unsupportive.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEGRnk_fSp7ImA9WhRbEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-7525171290097450076</id><published>2012-01-31T22:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T23:20:27.745-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-31T23:20:27.745-06:00</app:edited><title>Culture is more than what happens in a Petri dish...</title><content type="html">Culture is one of those things that, after you say the word a few times, it starts to seem like it&amp;#39;s not a real word. But it really is a real word and one I&amp;#39;ve been thinking about a little bit lately. Now, this post definitely does not seek to delve into the deeper meaning of cultural what-nots. It&amp;#39;s just more random ramblings by your humble author. That said, here it goes...&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/01/culture-is-more-than-what-happens-in.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-7525171290097450076?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=Xp2gxsPpQXY:88Cht1G5kD0:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=Xp2gxsPpQXY:88Cht1G5kD0:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=Xp2gxsPpQXY:88Cht1G5kD0:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/Xp2gxsPpQXY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/7525171290097450076/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=7525171290097450076" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/7525171290097450076?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/7525171290097450076?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/Xp2gxsPpQXY/culture-is-more-than-what-happens-in.html" title="Culture is more than what happens in a Petri dish..." /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pOG4XhdlOck/TyjLkvnOB_I/AAAAAAAAAOk/hpdHBFsL5vA/s72-c/rat+in+a+cage.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2012/01/culture-is-more-than-what-happens-in.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMARHo5eSp7ImA9WhRTGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-2103309107053175275</id><published>2011-11-08T22:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T22:37:25.421-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-08T22:37:25.421-06:00</app:edited><title>Diary of a Crazy Cajun Lady</title><content type="html">Well, first off I should admit that I&amp;#39;m not actually Cajun. I was born and raised in southeast Louisiana, on the dirty coast, between bayous and canals, an oyster shell beach and oil refineries. Dem der Cajuns live a bit furder west ;) ~ out in south central and southwestern Louisiana. So, I wasn&amp;#39;t born Cajun... I earned the monicker &amp;quot;Crazy Cajun Lady&amp;quot; in Memphis, where I lived for 6 years after Hurricane Katrina. Now, whether or not I&amp;#39;m actually &amp;quot;crazy&amp;quot; is a bit beside the point here. Please hold your comments until later. What I slowly revealed to those closest to me, that which earned me the nickname, I will share with you now.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Woe to those who serve up injustice or speak or act unfairly toward someone I care about... Be ye mindful, lest the Crazy Cajun Lady show herself and deal with you swiftly...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/11/diary-of-crazy-cajun-lady.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-2103309107053175275?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=XeIOK3O5K28:LNtP4iCqCJI:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=XeIOK3O5K28:LNtP4iCqCJI:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=XeIOK3O5K28:LNtP4iCqCJI:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/XeIOK3O5K28" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/2103309107053175275/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=2103309107053175275" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/2103309107053175275?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/2103309107053175275?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/XeIOK3O5K28/diary-of-crazy-cajun-lady.html" title="Diary of a Crazy Cajun Lady" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/11/diary-of-crazy-cajun-lady.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0ACRHw9cSp7ImA9WhdbFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-1000865336567263576</id><published>2011-10-13T21:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T21:36:05.269-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-13T21:36:05.269-05:00</app:edited><title>Hypotheticality</title><content type="html">&lt;br&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;u&gt;hypotheticality&lt;/u&gt; – &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;n.&lt;/i&gt;
the inherent hypotheticalness of an idea, situation, etc. (e.g. &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;The &lt;/i&gt;hypotheticality&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt; of the idea is what caused it to spiral out of control.&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Now that we’ve cleared
up that definition (it’s official, and don’t you dare question me), let’s talk
about what brought about this post, shall we? Come along into the random
ramblings of Stacie &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;encore une fois&lt;/i&gt;…
Or, as the French would say, “once again.” ;)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/10/hypotheticality.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-1000865336567263576?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/qSXoFvbFB-A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/1000865336567263576/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=1000865336567263576" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/1000865336567263576?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/1000865336567263576?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/qSXoFvbFB-A/hypotheticality.html" title="Hypotheticality" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/10/hypotheticality.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMCRH07fip7ImA9WhdVF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-4575191883159881262</id><published>2011-09-22T21:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T22:27:45.306-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-22T22:27:45.306-05:00</app:edited><title>Is What You Perceive What You Believe?</title><content type="html">Don’t believe
everything you think.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Did you pause after
reading that to consider what you’d just read? No, you didn’t, you naughty
little reader. Be honest… come on… you just continued on reading, didn’t you?
It’s ok. Stacie’s here.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Now I’m going to give
you a chance to think about that for a second: What does it mean to not believe
everything you think? And why?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/09/is-what-you-perceive-what-you-believe.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-4575191883159881262?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/TC_y2Mkg1ug" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/4575191883159881262/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=4575191883159881262" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/4575191883159881262?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/4575191883159881262?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/TC_y2Mkg1ug/is-what-you-perceive-what-you-believe.html" title="Is What You Perceive What You Believe?" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/09/is-what-you-perceive-what-you-believe.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4FSX48eCp7ImA9WhVbEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-2771556069456091509</id><published>2011-08-11T20:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-05-25T22:45:18.070-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-25T22:45:18.070-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mini•Blog" /><title>Mini•Blog No. 1: The Most Beautiful Heart</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;
Sometimes I lament opening up a little too easily to people. It's a sure-fire way to give many pieces of your heart away and only have a few of those gaps refilled, leaving aching chasms from where love has gone out and has not been returned. However, when I find myself in the company of sweet friends that I've made over the years, I'm reminded of how much it's worth it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A friend of mine once shared this very short story with me called &lt;a href="http://www.gagirl.com/stories/the-most-beautiful-heart.html"&gt;"The Most Beautiful Heart."&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;I encourage you to have a quick read (it'll take 2 minutes... maybe 3 if you read slowly like me), but the overall message is that it's best to love and sustain the inevitable hurt rather than keep all that love to yourself. The love of others is a treasure... and love given to others is even more rewarding still.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seek to give it away without expecting the same amount in return - that's what love is about. :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-2771556069456091509?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=GBK3UNcYdtQ:8CW4gT2jrgE:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=GBK3UNcYdtQ:8CW4gT2jrgE:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=GBK3UNcYdtQ:8CW4gT2jrgE:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/GBK3UNcYdtQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/2771556069456091509/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=2771556069456091509" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/2771556069456091509?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/2771556069456091509?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/GBK3UNcYdtQ/miniblog-no-1-most-beautiful-heart.html" title="Mini•Blog No. 1: The Most Beautiful Heart" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/08/miniblog-no-1-most-beautiful-heart.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcGRH8-cSp7ImA9WhdSEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-8709741142896129801</id><published>2011-07-19T17:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T17:03:45.159-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-19T17:03:45.159-05:00</app:edited><title>Chasing Sun</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;Someone once said to me, &amp;quot;The only way I would run is if someone was chasing me.&amp;quot; While that would be an excellent reason to book it quick time, running is actually something I use as an outlet for stress or sadness... and sometimes even fatigue. You might think that&amp;#39;s strange, but the endorphin rush that follows a good run or workout can be AMAZING for the body, mind, and soul and can be so refreshing that it actually (whereas you might think it would drain your energy) wakes you up. &lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
The other day, however, while I thought I had this great idea to go for a run to relieve some anxiety, what I  soon found out was that the universe had planted this idea in my brain and was conspiring to teach me a lesson.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/07/chasing-sun.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-8709741142896129801?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=72Nq7sJWgrA:Ximab2xDAjE:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=72Nq7sJWgrA:Ximab2xDAjE:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=72Nq7sJWgrA:Ximab2xDAjE:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/72Nq7sJWgrA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/8709741142896129801/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=8709741142896129801" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/8709741142896129801?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/8709741142896129801?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/72Nq7sJWgrA/chasing-sun.html" title="Chasing Sun" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QAcPDdyRmEE/TiXx8sHr1eI/AAAAAAAAAKo/SepxsaQmVIw/s72-c/sunshine.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/07/chasing-sun.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQDQ385cCp7ImA9WhdTFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-3948298754337292997</id><published>2011-07-12T17:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T08:39:32.128-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-13T08:39:32.128-05:00</app:edited><title>I am ME.</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;One thing I&amp;#39;ve always been quite adept at is introspection. I&amp;#39;m always considering why I do, think, or feel a certain way; what is it that drives me; where my quirks come from; and why I react the way I do to different situations. And although I might not like all of it all the time, I accept that every little bit of my being adds up to the sum total of ME. So while I might be full of crazy-headed ideas and quirks and filled to the brim with mildly neurotic tendencies, at least I know who I am, and there&amp;#39;s definitely something to be said for that.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
When I was in middle school, as a punishment for certain minor infractions, we were forced to copy a self-esteem essay called &lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://webpages.charter.net/lrsmith/declare.htm"&gt;I am me.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt; This little gem of an essay is a complete load of horseshit and never helped me learn about who I am or how to appreciate myself. It just made me mad when I had to write it. What I&amp;#39;m talking about is real, true introspection - really getting to know who I am.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
Lately, I&amp;#39;ve been faced with just that repeatedly, and reminders of my personality traits have come in the strangest forms: Observing a favorite insect, a movie trailer, and a movie review by my friend &lt;a href="http://2dreviews.ca/"&gt;2D&lt;/a&gt;. I&amp;#39;ll explain them here - complete with pictures and video - and show you how I see glimpses of myself in all of these things.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/07/i-am-me.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-3948298754337292997?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/3ZdAg4wnPpU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/3948298754337292997/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=3948298754337292997" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/3948298754337292997?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/3948298754337292997?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/3ZdAg4wnPpU/i-am-me.html" title="I am ME." /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ulVD9p4luFQ/Tbh0cZOZc-I/AAAAAAAAABQ/8TyEyTORDXI/s72-c/how-to-get-rid-of-rollie-pollies-aka-doodle-bugs-woodlice-pill-bugs-and-sow-bugs.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/07/i-am-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8GSHs_eCp7ImA9WhZaE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-8602817046114499649</id><published>2011-06-29T13:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T15:20:29.540-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-29T15:20:29.540-05:00</app:edited><title>I'd Rather Be Blogging</title><content type="html">It has been 4 weeks since my last post. An entire month. I do not like that, but there is a reason for this. And now, without much further ado, here goes another random rambling from me, Stacie P. See, the story goes like this...&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/06/id-rather-be-blogging.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-8602817046114499649?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=kVlOBetAFVw:YDyftkvpUbw:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=kVlOBetAFVw:YDyftkvpUbw:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=kVlOBetAFVw:YDyftkvpUbw:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/kVlOBetAFVw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/8602817046114499649/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=8602817046114499649" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/8602817046114499649?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/8602817046114499649?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/kVlOBetAFVw/id-rather-be-blogging.html" title="I'd Rather Be Blogging" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/06/id-rather-be-blogging.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQMR3w8fyp7ImA9WhdSGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-7886687378652886810</id><published>2011-06-02T17:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T17:39:46.277-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-27T17:39:46.277-05:00</app:edited><title>Take THIS for Granted</title><content type="html">When did taking things for granted become taboo? Who coined this phrase and brainwashed the world into believing that anyone who does this is an obnoxious jerk who does not value relationships, jobs, or possessions? Who did this?? Allow me to re-enlighten my little corner of the webiverse, as I show you how taking things for granted is really the optimistic perspective and should not be frowned upon - nay (dare I say), should possibly even be &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;encouraged&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. Come along...&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/06/take-this-for-granted.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-7886687378652886810?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=LJU7oUKTVVc:E_h7pnOnEZE:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=LJU7oUKTVVc:E_h7pnOnEZE:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=LJU7oUKTVVc:E_h7pnOnEZE:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/LJU7oUKTVVc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/7886687378652886810/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=7886687378652886810" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/7886687378652886810?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/7886687378652886810?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/LJU7oUKTVVc/take-this-for-granted.html" title="Take THIS for Granted" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LoM5bh-8NV8/Tef6xAoDOpI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/SoITRbyWGE8/s72-c/%2528HS+COMIC%2529+frames+1%25262.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/06/take-this-for-granted.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MNQXs5eyp7ImA9WhVRGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-3961141751250611849</id><published>2011-05-13T14:18:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2012-03-26T21:31:30.523-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-03-26T21:31:30.523-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Soapbox Shorties" /><title>Soapbox Shorty #2: Midday Roadwork</title><content type="html">Really? Really?! 3 of the 4 lanes of a major thoroughfare have to be blocked off, causing major congestion during the lunchtime rush hour, for what appears to be the FILLING OF A POTHOLE?? Who&amp;#39;s the genius who thought, &amp;quot;Here we go. Let&amp;#39;s fill a small pothole in the middle of the day-during the lunch rush hour-that requires us to block off several lanes of traffic on a major expressway&amp;quot;?? Really?? Now I realize that I&amp;#39;m overusing question marks here... but it&amp;#39;s appropriate, considering the fact that there are only unanswered questions when examining this situation.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/05/midday-roadwork.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-3961141751250611849?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/QhKi00sDSW0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/3961141751250611849/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=3961141751250611849" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/3961141751250611849?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/3961141751250611849?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/QhKi00sDSW0/midday-roadwork.html" title="Soapbox Shorty #2: Midday Roadwork" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v5w6e3nywXo/Tc2C7F2RAFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/d8TYHiKUwKI/s72-c/mean+face.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/05/midday-roadwork.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQNRnY7fCp7ImA9WhZQGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-8941576311049788933</id><published>2011-04-27T18:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T18:19:57.804-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-27T18:19:57.804-05:00</app:edited><title>Is it hot in here or is it the FIREMEN?!</title><content type="html">I just wanted to take a moment to express how very grateful I am to the servicemen we all know fondly as firemen. They are valiant, strong, selfless, and ready to lay it all on the line to save a life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*Sigh* Now I just need to take a moment to catch my breath... 'cause I sure love me some firemen. :D&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, in honor of these brave souls, Baskin-Robbins is offering 31¢ scoop night tonight from 5p to 10p all over the &lt;a href="http://www.baskinrobbins.com/spotlight/31centscoopnight.aspx"&gt;U.S.&lt;/a&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;a href="http://www.baskinrobbins.ca/about.html?id=50"&gt;Canada&lt;/a&gt;! Specifically, this promotion benefits both the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation (NFFF) and the Canadian Fallen Firefighters Foundation (CFFF), respectively. So get a scoop and SUPPORT! :)&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/-SE4l_EH4G7g/TbikcFyYpcI/AAAAAAAAADQ/BjWQM0MYI_U/s1600/Fireman+%2528small%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SE4l_EH4G7g/TbikcFyYpcI/AAAAAAAAADQ/BjWQM0MYI_U/s320/Fireman+%2528small%2529.png" width="177" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Also, isn't it appropriate that on this very day, firemen came rushing to the school where I teach to assess a potential fire. In the end, I think there was no fire, but the firefighters who showed up were looking strong! In honor of their service today, I drew a picture of one of them rescuing me &amp;amp; my friend and colleague.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All jokes aside, what they do day in and day out is commendable and for that I say: RESPECT. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-8941576311049788933?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/S2dBeTSkZ3o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/8941576311049788933/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=8941576311049788933" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/8941576311049788933?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/8941576311049788933?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/S2dBeTSkZ3o/is-it-hot-in-here-or-is-it-firemen.html" title="Is it hot in here or is it the FIREMEN?!" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SE4l_EH4G7g/TbikcFyYpcI/AAAAAAAAADQ/BjWQM0MYI_U/s72-c/Fireman+%2528small%2529.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/04/is-it-hot-in-here-or-is-it-firemen.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUEQHg9fyp7ImA9WhZQGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-4881319088411112136</id><published>2011-04-25T20:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T11:03:21.667-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-27T11:03:21.667-05:00</app:edited><title>What I learned at school today...</title><content type="html">I am a teacher, which for me means that every day is hard, some days I hate my job, some days I don’t dislike my job as much, but no day is like the one before it. Today was no exception.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Everyone at one point or another has heard a “teacher” story – either in a movie or from a friend or family member who is an educator. The truth is, though, teaching is a service-oriented profession like many, many others. There is a constant potential for impact on young lives, whether positive or negative, and maybe – just maybe – if you’re a teacher, you might get the opportunity to have a significant positive influence on a young person that he will carry into the rest of his life. That all being said, and all being wonderful, what doesn’t get spoken of enough is how impactful the lives of young people can be on those of us who endeavor to teach them.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/04/what-i-learned-at-school-today.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-4881319088411112136?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/3s8PjblC8Qk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/4881319088411112136/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=4881319088411112136" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/4881319088411112136?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/4881319088411112136?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/3s8PjblC8Qk/what-i-learned-at-school-today.html" title="What I learned at school today..." /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>8</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/04/what-i-learned-at-school-today.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MGSX07fyp7ImA9WhZQFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-4785230789083382561</id><published>2011-04-23T15:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T15:10:28.307-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-23T15:10:28.307-05:00</app:edited><title>This is what it feels like when you get love on Twitter, FB &amp; your blog...</title><content type="html">&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9HgimbkhPBE/TbMxvJ-6_YI/AAAAAAAAADI/Qq7T0NmzQU4/s1600/Gilded+heart+ducats+falling+from+the+sky+%2528with+me%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9HgimbkhPBE/TbMxvJ-6_YI/AAAAAAAAADI/Qq7T0NmzQU4/s400/Gilded+heart+ducats+falling+from+the+sky+%2528with+me%2529.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gilded heart ducats falling from the sky.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;So thank you to those of you who follow me on Twitter, Facebook, and here at my humble home on the web, my blog. :) *Muah!*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-4785230789083382561?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=WvfmrW2h4EE:v1uEd83obFY:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=WvfmrW2h4EE:v1uEd83obFY:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=WvfmrW2h4EE:v1uEd83obFY:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/WvfmrW2h4EE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/4785230789083382561/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=4785230789083382561" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/4785230789083382561?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/4785230789083382561?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/WvfmrW2h4EE/this-is-what-it-feels-like-when-you-get.html" title="This is what it feels like when you get love on Twitter, FB &amp; your blog..." /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9HgimbkhPBE/TbMxvJ-6_YI/AAAAAAAAADI/Qq7T0NmzQU4/s72-c/Gilded+heart+ducats+falling+from+the+sky+%2528with+me%2529.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/04/this-is-what-it-feels-like-when-you-get.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEGQHw_cCp7ImA9WhVbFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-674666640714028618</id><published>2011-04-23T01:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-05-30T15:10:21.248-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-30T15:10:21.248-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="PSA" /><title>The Great Internet Debacle of 2011</title><content type="html">The following is a true story.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
I called to put my DSL internet account on pause for a while in between moves because I thought that would be easier than disconnecting and reconnecting service in a couple of months. Easier. If only I had realized that it would have been easier to manually remove the phone wires from the house I was moving from and physically drag them and replace them at the house I was moving to. Easier. What a concept…&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/04/great-internet-debacle-of-2011.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-674666640714028618?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=qStVuI5NFsI:b6Eo5Sj5tvk:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=qStVuI5NFsI:b6Eo5Sj5tvk:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=qStVuI5NFsI:b6Eo5Sj5tvk:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/qStVuI5NFsI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/674666640714028618/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=674666640714028618" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/674666640714028618?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/674666640714028618?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/qStVuI5NFsI/great-internet-debacle-of-2011.html" title="The Great Internet Debacle of 2011" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/04/great-internet-debacle-of-2011.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMCQ3w9fyp7ImA9WhZQFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-8943281444377476173</id><published>2011-04-08T20:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T01:34:22.267-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-23T01:34:22.267-05:00</app:edited><title>Packing up emotional baggage...</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;I was going to consult with a friend to ask whether I should reconsider writing a blog that&amp;#39;s a little more emotional and a little more personal. The reason was that when I write really emphatically about silly things, I necessarily take a different tone than when I&amp;#39;m on a heavier topic, and I was afraid of making the friends who read my blog a little uncomfortable... after all, it&amp;#39;s a lot nicer to read to silly, happy things. For that reason, I won&amp;#39;t mind if you skip this one and check back another time when I&amp;#39;ve posted a crazy-headed rant or some such thing. But if you do choose to read on, know that I&amp;#39;m writing this for me right now because I&amp;#39;m yearning for an outlet. And what better outlet do I have than my very own blog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/04/packing-up-emotional-baggage.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-8943281444377476173?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=tWKeOrmNCac:4yhsC9b5Iao:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=tWKeOrmNCac:4yhsC9b5Iao:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=tWKeOrmNCac:4yhsC9b5Iao:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/tWKeOrmNCac" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/8943281444377476173/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=8943281444377476173" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/8943281444377476173?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/8943281444377476173?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/tWKeOrmNCac/packing-up-emotional-baggage.html" title="Packing up emotional baggage..." /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/04/packing-up-emotional-baggage.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MNRn8_cCp7ImA9WhZTFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-6415206776572918167</id><published>2011-03-19T15:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T14:31:37.148-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-20T14:31:37.148-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Soapbox Shorties" /><title>Soapbox Shorty #1: Stupid Questions</title><content type="html">Your mama might have told you that there&amp;#39;s no such thing as a stupid question. Or maybe she dropped this little gem on you at some point: &amp;quot;The only stupid question is the one you don&amp;#39;t ask.&amp;quot; Well, I feel like it&amp;#39;s time you knew...&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
There is such a thing as a stupid question, regardless of what your mama told you. Yeah, I said it. Shall we consider some examples?&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/03/soapbox-shorty-1-stupid-questions.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-6415206776572918167?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=XeTUjJrK4BY:E8oeMYtld2g:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=XeTUjJrK4BY:E8oeMYtld2g:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=XeTUjJrK4BY:E8oeMYtld2g:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/XeTUjJrK4BY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/6415206776572918167/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=6415206776572918167" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/6415206776572918167?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/6415206776572918167?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/XeTUjJrK4BY/soapbox-shorty-1-stupid-questions.html" title="Soapbox Shorty #1: Stupid Questions" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>11</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/03/soapbox-shorty-1-stupid-questions.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEGSHoyfip7ImA9WhVbFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-6991352680079213979</id><published>2011-03-14T18:25:00.028-05:00</published><updated>2012-05-30T15:10:29.496-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-30T15:10:29.496-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="PSA" /><title>Be an (Amateur) Rx-pert</title><content type="html">Knowledge is power, people. When it comes to over-the-counter meds, do not be fooled. If you&amp;#39;ve heard it once, you&amp;#39;ve heard it a thousand times... some things are not what they seem. Read more to find out how you, too, can become an amateur rx-pert - not to be confused with a real rx-pert like my baby brother, the pharmacist ;) //end shameless plug...&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/03/be-amateur-rx-pert.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-6991352680079213979?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=4fudZBEVPsE:bVHMmgMrf6o:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=4fudZBEVPsE:bVHMmgMrf6o:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=4fudZBEVPsE:bVHMmgMrf6o:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/4fudZBEVPsE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/6991352680079213979/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=6991352680079213979" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/6991352680079213979?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/6991352680079213979?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/4fudZBEVPsE/be-amateur-rx-pert.html" title="Be an (Amateur) Rx-pert" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/03/be-amateur-rx-pert.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EER3Y_fCp7ImA9Wx9aFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-1986207227121982898</id><published>2011-03-05T11:48:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T21:33:26.844-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-08T21:33:26.844-06:00</app:edited><title>Weather the Weather</title><content type="html">*Licks finger &amp;amp; holds it up in the air* Yep, the wind is definitely blowing from... who the hell knows where. Weathermen certainly don&amp;#39;t. They can&amp;#39;t be trusted.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/03/weather-weather.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-1986207227121982898?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=7Yq8PibZyUY:FoX3UlO4B_4:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=7Yq8PibZyUY:FoX3UlO4B_4:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=7Yq8PibZyUY:FoX3UlO4B_4:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/7Yq8PibZyUY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/1986207227121982898/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=1986207227121982898" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/1986207227121982898?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/1986207227121982898?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/7Yq8PibZyUY/weather-weather.html" title="Weather the Weather" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05500416732323624204</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="22" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1-0ALETk9g/T7XblKBIIsI/AAAAAAAAAP8/GiHcYIGsvak/s220/Twitter%2BProfile%2BPic.jpg" /></author><thr:total>8</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/03/weather-weather.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAAR3s5cSp7ImA9Wx9aFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-5703886011216155564</id><published>2011-03-01T21:12:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T21:19:06.529-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-08T21:19:06.529-06:00</app:edited><title>Got focus?</title><content type="html">I&amp;#39;ve had this idea for a while now (since I was 12 or so) that I&amp;#39;d like to write a book. The problem with wanting to write a book, though, is knowing what you want to write about because you can&amp;#39;t very well write a book about nothing... or can you?&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/01/got-focus.html#more"&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;script expr:src='"http://feeds.feedburner.com/~s/ponderingspensees?i=" + data:post.url' type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4955762408058528467-5703886011216155564?l=www.staciedenola.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="feedflare"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=uA50WD-4Zfk:Ei-7978Mbyw:yIl2AUoC8zA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?d=yIl2AUoC8zA" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?a=uA50WD-4Zfk:Ei-7978Mbyw:gIN9vFwOqvQ"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~ff/ponderingspensees?i=uA50WD-4Zfk:Ei-7978Mbyw:gIN9vFwOqvQ" border="0"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~4/uA50WD-4Zfk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.staciedenola.com/feeds/5703886011216155564/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4955762408058528467&amp;postID=5703886011216155564" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/5703886011216155564?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4955762408058528467/posts/default/5703886011216155564?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/ponderingspensees/~3/uA50WD-4Zfk/got-focus.html" title="Got focus?" /><author><name>Stacie P.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17574959922433221001</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9wp98HD4TzU/ToEorc5MTII/AAAAAAAAAF8/nOeceZg4ZCg/s220/Shower2.jpg" /></author><thr:total>9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.staciedenola.com/2011/01/got-focus.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUARH8-eSp7ImA9WhZTFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4955762408058528467.post-4256968102104373646</id><published>2010-11-22T22:37:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T14:17:25.151-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-19T14:17:25.151-05:00</app:edited><title>In other words, for example...</title><content type="html">In keeping with the random nature of this blog, I&amp;#39;d like to begin by saying that if I do actually write a book, it will necessarily be a book that does not take itself too seriously (i.e. I will not take it very seriously and am therefore not sure what the draw would be in reading it...).&lt;br&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On that note,... well, actually, this next bit is totally unrelated, but it&amp;#39;s fun to lead into an idea with &amp;quot;on that note...&amp;quot;.  So, on that note, I have to admit that I enjoy figuring out where very common expressions came from originally.  As a matter of fact, just yesterday I was putting those Google Guru skills to work looking up where &amp;quot;ok&amp;quot; or &amp;quot;okay&amp;quot; might have originated and was not too surprised to find out that no one really knows.  I wasn&amp;#39;t surprised because that is the nature of language... it&amp;#39;s so fluid and evolves in the most bizarre way.  Mispronunciations, perpetual misspellings, misunderstandings, the need to create a word for something that previously didn&amp;#39;t exist or hadn&amp;#39;t been quantified semantically... And there I just digressed into a nerdy wonderland of thoughts... coming back now... (Click &amp;quot;read more&amp;quot; to get the rest of the story!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;
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