<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/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:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360</id><updated>2011-07-07T19:31:19.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Claire's Babblings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-2766186300992269192</id><published>2010-01-25T06:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T06:28:13.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="420" height="339"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/xbnwlk" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/xbnwlk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="339" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/xbnwlk"&gt;Get Out&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;by &lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/Esma-Movie"&gt;Esma-Movie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-2766186300992269192?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2766186300992269192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=2766186300992269192' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2766186300992269192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2766186300992269192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2010/01/get-out-by-esma-movie.html' title=''/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-7431048860212476636</id><published>2009-12-04T05:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T05:24:02.839-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hamsters are the cutest</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AxBJlxb3NAQ&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AxBJlxb3NAQ&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-7431048860212476636?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7431048860212476636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=7431048860212476636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/7431048860212476636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/7431048860212476636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2009/12/hamsters-are-cutest.html' title='Hamsters are the cutest'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-7518339013594366181</id><published>2009-07-02T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T17:20:23.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sand Painting</title><content type='html'>I know most (if not all) of you had given up on this blog but if you do check it, I saw this today and thought it was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z1JZ9O15280&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z1JZ9O15280&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-7518339013594366181?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7518339013594366181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=7518339013594366181' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/7518339013594366181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/7518339013594366181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2009/07/sand-painting.html' title='Sand Painting'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-592804527312430876</id><published>2009-02-15T14:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T15:38:09.567-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #26</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Birthdays&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So, it was Amy's turn to pick and since she turned 40 this past week &lt;em&gt;birthdays&lt;/em&gt; is our subject. Here's the thing, I don't really like my birthdays. Amy is usually the only person (not living with me) who consistently remembers my birthday. I'm usually sick for some reason. I think my birthdays went sour when I turned 7 and had a birthday party. We didn't get birthday parties every year growing up because there were simply too many of us to have parties every year. I was sick, of course, and insisted on having the party anyway (it had already been delayed once) and barfed at the party. I don't remember much except for the fact that it sucked. They really haven't improved at all over the years. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SZinJSZUkBI/AAAAAAAABBQ/n-II19kjm3I/s1600-h/birthday_dinosaur.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303172339227463698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 253px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 270px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SZinJSZUkBI/AAAAAAAABBQ/n-II19kjm3I/s400/birthday_dinosaur.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In other birthday news, Luc will be turning one in a couple of weeks and I need to decide what kind of cake to make for him. My friend, Cresta, has a Smurf cake pan I could borrow. I also saw a cute hippo cake pan at a flea market but they wanted $5 for it and I'm not sure I want to spend $5 for a cake pan I'll use once. Any opinions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-592804527312430876?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/592804527312430876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=592804527312430876' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/592804527312430876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/592804527312430876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/tuesday-musings-26.html' title='Tuesday Musings #26'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SZinJSZUkBI/AAAAAAAABBQ/n-II19kjm3I/s72-c/birthday_dinosaur.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-6072625993582100738</id><published>2009-02-06T19:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T19:57:21.272-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In case of emergency...</title><content type='html'>In case of emergency, click &lt;a href="http://www.emergencyyodel.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. I'm full of useless stuff today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-6072625993582100738?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6072625993582100738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=6072625993582100738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6072625993582100738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6072625993582100738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/in-case-of-emergency.html' title='In case of emergency...'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-9136909311972830345</id><published>2009-02-06T16:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T16:43:43.799-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homesick</title><content type='html'>In some sick and twisted way this makes me miss good ole Staten Island.  I really have no other reason for posting this video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VCZdq1tVeKI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VCZdq1tVeKI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-9136909311972830345?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/9136909311972830345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=9136909311972830345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/9136909311972830345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/9136909311972830345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/homesick.html' title='Homesick'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-5209049927715560020</id><published>2009-01-30T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T07:58:17.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #25 --- We're back...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;If money were not an issue and you had a full time caretaker, what would be your dream pet?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;I hope nobody cares but I went with pet&lt;em&gt;s&lt;/em&gt; instead of pet because my dream pets would be lots of marine critters.  I would have a huge aquarium with it's own little reef.  Matt and I could teach &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TRex&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;LMax&lt;/span&gt; to snorkel in their living room.  Coco might be cuddly and Samson might be entertaining but I have always loved our fish tanks the best.  I could spend hours just watching the fish swim around.  Fish tanks are just relaxing.  We would string lights around the edge at Christmas and hang our stockings off the side with suction cup hooks.  For Halloween, we'd make the fish little ghost costumes.  It would be great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SYMgiitAkUI/AAAAAAAABAg/dI4X823MVQE/s1600-h/bill-gates-room.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297113364521062722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SYMgiitAkUI/AAAAAAAABAg/dI4X823MVQE/s400/bill-gates-room.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is the guy I would hire to clean the tank for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SYMgiwKEShI/AAAAAAAABAo/0Onf3PZPeNc/s1600-h/guy+in+tank.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297113368132602386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SYMgiwKEShI/AAAAAAAABAo/0Onf3PZPeNc/s400/guy+in+tank.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This has nothing to do with anything except that I ran across this picture while looking at aquarium pictures and have a new dream car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SYMgi2y5EMI/AAAAAAAABAw/omYeTa1JwcM/s1600-h/bill-gates-car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297113369914446018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SYMgi2y5EMI/AAAAAAAABAw/omYeTa1JwcM/s400/bill-gates-car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-5209049927715560020?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5209049927715560020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=5209049927715560020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/5209049927715560020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/5209049927715560020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/tuesday-musings-25-were-back.html' title='Tuesday Musings #25 --- We&apos;re back...'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SYMgiitAkUI/AAAAAAAABAg/dI4X823MVQE/s72-c/bill-gates-room.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-6863259291734953882</id><published>2008-11-21T11:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T11:27:22.019-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something to post</title><content type='html'>Well, Tuesday Musings is on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hiatus&lt;/span&gt; and I don't know what's happening with Friday Free-for-All so, I haven't got much to post these days. But, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cresta&lt;/span&gt; turned me on to a &lt;a href="http://failblog.org/"&gt;funny site today so here it is&lt;/a&gt;. This is the video that got me hooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OOvqF4ZPDNM&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OOvqF4ZPDNM&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-6863259291734953882?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6863259291734953882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=6863259291734953882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6863259291734953882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6863259291734953882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/11/something-to-post.html' title='Something to post'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-2800732908179265605</id><published>2008-10-16T16:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T16:52:16.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #22</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Topic #22: Gone With the Wind. Do you give a damn?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SPfTYaY0VYI/AAAAAAAAAjc/ZBbATLSgstE/s1600-h/just_say_no.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257903506332079490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SPfTYaY0VYI/AAAAAAAAAjc/ZBbATLSgstE/s320/just_say_no.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;P.S. Do I get extra points for being early???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-2800732908179265605?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2800732908179265605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=2800732908179265605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2800732908179265605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2800732908179265605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/10/ffa-22.html' title='FFA #22'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SPfTYaY0VYI/AAAAAAAAAjc/ZBbATLSgstE/s72-c/just_say_no.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-1215218982060042958</id><published>2008-10-04T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T07:23:18.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #20</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Saturday Morning Cartoons&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I haven't watched Saturday morning cartoons in years. When I got home from my mission, I worked or slept on Saturday mornings; When I got married and had TV, I had better things to do on a Saturday morning; and we haven't had TV reception for 3 last years. Well, I guess this is a well-timed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;FFA&lt;/span&gt; because we just started getting TV last month. But, I still hadn't watched Saturday morning cartoons so I got up this morning, watched as much as I could stand (about 7 1/2 minutes) and now I'm writing my post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;One thing I learned is that they have gotten very unoriginal and are ripping off what used to be good cartoons. Such as &lt;em&gt;Strawberry Shortcake&lt;/em&gt;... &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd1s-93JVI/AAAAAAAAAes/0Qi4Kylo2pc/s1600-h/strawberry.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253296906028131666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd1s-93JVI/AAAAAAAAAes/0Qi4Kylo2pc/s400/strawberry.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Care Bears&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd1s7pXC_I/AAAAAAAAAe0/NaFshEgenxo/s1600-h/care-bears.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253296905136835570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd1s7pXC_I/AAAAAAAAAe0/NaFshEgenxo/s400/care-bears.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They are also ripping off cartoons that should have been left to die in the 90s like &lt;em&gt;Sonic the Hedgehog&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd2s0rJh-I/AAAAAAAAAe8/AIrminSTHLk/s1600-h/classicsonic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253298002776917986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd2s0rJh-I/AAAAAAAAAe8/AIrminSTHLk/s400/classicsonic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And making scary computer animated cartoons out of things that were never meant to be cartoons and come out, well, kind or creepy, like &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Animalia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd3aJ6W32I/AAAAAAAAAfE/DGkrXiF1rRg/s1600-h/animalia_book.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253298781571964770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd3aJ6W32I/AAAAAAAAAfE/DGkrXiF1rRg/s400/animalia_book.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd3aMxZnhI/AAAAAAAAAfM/2qmgJjtQVxo/s1600-h/Animalia_scary.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253298782339702290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd3aMxZnhI/AAAAAAAAAfM/2qmgJjtQVxo/s400/Animalia_scary.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't know if cartoons have gotten stupid or I've gotten less stupid (though I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;skeptical&lt;/span&gt; about the second one). I guess with age comes an awareness that no matter how hard you try you will never look as good in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;florescent&lt;/span&gt; pink as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Jem&lt;/span&gt;. The biggest mystery to me is how we regressed from the likes of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Jem&lt;/span&gt;, She-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ra&lt;/span&gt;, Diana the acrobat and Velma to The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Bratz&lt;/span&gt;. Something is very, very wrong there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd4C3EEihI/AAAAAAAAAfU/PKDlMcYwgFU/s1600-h/diana.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253299480887069202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd4C3EEihI/AAAAAAAAAfU/PKDlMcYwgFU/s400/diana.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd4C3SlzYI/AAAAAAAAAfc/Sd_whyYnFXw/s1600-h/girlpower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253299480947969410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd4C3SlzYI/AAAAAAAAAfc/Sd_whyYnFXw/s400/girlpower.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd4DCVlQBI/AAAAAAAAAfk/TrCaKc3qK9I/s1600-h/velma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253299483913306130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd4DCVlQBI/AAAAAAAAAfk/TrCaKc3qK9I/s400/velma.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did we go from encouraging our daughters to be intelligent, capable women to dressing like prostitutes and being spoiled brats?&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd4P08jDLI/AAAAAAAAAfs/haDj82nmgYo/s1600-h/bratz1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253299703656942770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd4P08jDLI/AAAAAAAAAfs/haDj82nmgYo/s400/bratz1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The other really sad thing about Saturday morning cartoons is that the networks have completely given up on the really cool public service announcements that I used to love and have turned into pushers of terrible food and really dumb toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/U3jgo5ea_zc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/U3jgo5ea_zc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jqjBpHsW5x4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jqjBpHsW5x4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, one of the best &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Cd's&lt;/span&gt; I've ever owned was a bunch of covers of Saturday morning cartoon theme songs. Blind Melon made a great cover of &lt;em&gt;Three is the Magic Number&lt;/em&gt;. How do kids these days learn anything without &lt;em&gt;School House Rocks&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4JTPF6mhM-s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4JTPF6mhM-s&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also very confused. I don't know if I was still half asleep when I turned the television on but I could have sworn there was a Hungry, Hungry Hippo commercial on that looked like it was 20 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ltljWakR66w&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ltljWakR66w&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there are my half-coherent thoughts on Saturday morning cartoons.  Writing this post made me want to wear pajamas all morning and eat Lucky Charms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-1215218982060042958?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/1215218982060042958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=1215218982060042958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/1215218982060042958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/1215218982060042958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/10/ffa-20.html' title='FFA #20'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SOd1s-93JVI/AAAAAAAAAes/0Qi4Kylo2pc/s72-c/strawberry.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-4670282054464392246</id><published>2008-09-26T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T22:45:56.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #19</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;If you could have ANY super power (either good or evil) what would it be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So, I didn't do last week's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;FFA&lt;/span&gt; because the assignment was to make a Top 20 list of our choice. Unfortunately, I don't have the attention span to complete such a task so it remains on my to-do list of things I have no intention of ever doing (sorry Jenni, 10 I could have done, 20 was beyond me.) Anyway, I am excited about this week's because I know exactly what it is...&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;FLYING. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I would fly through the air with the greatest of ease. Instead of going for a walk, I'd take flight.   There are a couple of conditions.  First of all, I don't want to have to have wings.  I don't want to have to buy new shirts.  Second, I refuse to stick my arms out like Superman, that just looks silly.  I want the floating/soaring kind of flying.  So, there it is.  I'm sure there are more practical answers like the ability to wash dishes super fast or make money grow on trees but they wouldn't make me nearly as happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SN3Ho8A_NkI/AAAAAAAAAek/wl5Cpv8eRy4/s1600-h/lucid-dream-flying.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250572246702831170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SN3Ho8A_NkI/AAAAAAAAAek/wl5Cpv8eRy4/s400/lucid-dream-flying.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-4670282054464392246?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4670282054464392246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=4670282054464392246' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/4670282054464392246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/4670282054464392246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/09/ffa-19.html' title='FFA #19'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SN3Ho8A_NkI/AAAAAAAAAek/wl5Cpv8eRy4/s72-c/lucid-dream-flying.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-3037201695497715062</id><published>2008-09-17T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T12:53:33.701-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Something nobody knows about me is…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;You know when you get a new electronic device or appliance and over any screen or set of buttons there is usually a thin, plastic film protecting it? Well, my greatest joy in life is taking those thin plastic films off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SNFgInB0uZI/AAAAAAAAAeU/8pcFb6uhsrg/s1600-h/plastic.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247080741895190930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SNFgInB0uZI/AAAAAAAAAeU/8pcFb6uhsrg/s400/plastic.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-3037201695497715062?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3037201695497715062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=3037201695497715062' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/3037201695497715062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/3037201695497715062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/09/tuesday-musings_17.html' title='Tuesday Musings'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SNFgInB0uZI/AAAAAAAAAeU/8pcFb6uhsrg/s72-c/plastic.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-2174286816722045723</id><published>2008-09-14T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T21:04:04.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA for Sept 12th (yes, I know its not the 12th)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Memories of Junior High (repressed or otherwise)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;letting Patty and Annemarie do my hair in the playground during lunch, once (all the cool girls carried the gallon jug of Aquanet in their very large vinyl bags.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cjvfjPLI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/Zrt_n-Ti3UU/s1600-h/staten.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091647558827186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cjvfjPLI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/Zrt_n-Ti3UU/s400/staten.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;thinking I was cool because I had spandex pants with a stripe down the side (of course I never would have left the house looking like the woman in the picture.   no self respecting middle schooler would show her ankles.  I was required to wear a minimum of three pairs of layered socks.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cj2O3qcI/AAAAAAAAAdY/K6Z07AGTsV0/s1600-h/leggings.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091649367910850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cj2O3qcI/AAAAAAAAAdY/K6Z07AGTsV0/s400/leggings.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; getting Alyssa Milano's textbook in English in the 7th grade.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cYdYu4iI/AAAAAAAAAco/MCSrlqTEww0/s1600-h/alyssa-milano.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091453719831074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cYdYu4iI/AAAAAAAAAco/MCSrlqTEww0/s400/alyssa-milano.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the 17-year-old 8th grader who was 6 feet tall and named Elvis (I kid you not.) &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cYs168AI/AAAAAAAAAcw/lEvtWCmBx-o/s1600-h/elvis_black_bckgd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091457868787714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cYs168AI/AAAAAAAAAcw/lEvtWCmBx-o/s400/elvis_black_bckgd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; working in the library during my lunch periods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cYgkSYrI/AAAAAAAAAc4/Vp6QRtmlFxI/s1600-h/The_GRUMPY_Librarian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091454573601458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cYgkSYrI/AAAAAAAAAc4/Vp6QRtmlFxI/s400/The_GRUMPY_Librarian.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;sitting next to my friend Fifi in art class.  Our teacher used to have us make palettes out of paper.  Everyday he would walk us through how to fold up the corners to make sure no paint leaked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cY6kfA8I/AAAAAAAAAdA/Pxkawpa9nf4/s1600-h/artclass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091461553750978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cY6kfA8I/AAAAAAAAAdA/Pxkawpa9nf4/s400/artclass.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; secret crush on my archenemy Jason DeAngeles (he sat across from me in art.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cY_B2mxI/AAAAAAAAAdI/IgSoyAk1KtA/s1600-h/extra-normal-clock-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091462750673682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cY_B2mxI/AAAAAAAAAdI/IgSoyAk1KtA/s400/extra-normal-clock-3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; hating 59 minutes out of every hour for 3 full years of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-2174286816722045723?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2174286816722045723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=2174286816722045723' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2174286816722045723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2174286816722045723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/09/ffa-for-sept-12th-yes-i-know-its-not.html' title='FFA for Sept 12th (yes, I know its not the 12th)'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3cjvfjPLI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/Zrt_n-Ti3UU/s72-c/staten.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-7854756510616302404</id><published>2008-09-14T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T19:01:29.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings</title><content type='html'>So, this is almost two weeks late. If offer no lame excuses, I'm just a big, fat slacker. So, here is my favorite chocolate recipe this week (I have so many I rotate them):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick (aka Vegan) Chocolate Cake with Chocolate Glaze Icing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 cups sifted flour (I don't sift this)&lt;br /&gt;6 Tbsp cocoa powder (from your bucket)&lt;br /&gt;2 tsp baking soda (not from the back of the fridge, please)&lt;br /&gt;2 cups sugar&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp salt&lt;br /&gt;3/4 cup vegetable oil&lt;br /&gt;2 Tbsp vinegar (I use the apple cider variety)&lt;br /&gt;2 tsp vanilla extract&lt;br /&gt;2 cups cold water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Use 2 9x9 pans.&lt;br /&gt;Mix dry ingredients.&lt;br /&gt;Mix wet ingredients.&lt;br /&gt;Add dry to wet.&lt;br /&gt;Bake at 350 degrees for 25-30 minutes. About 20 min for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cuppycakes&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glaze:&lt;br /&gt;1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips&lt;br /&gt;3 tablespoons half and half&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons butter&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons corn syrup&lt;br /&gt;Melt all ingredients in a small saucepan, stirring continually. Spread over one cake, place second cake on top and ice that thing. Then eat until you pass out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3AcpDLm5I/AAAAAAAAAcI/_9bX_CkiNp0/s1600-h/chococake.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246060739244563346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3AcpDLm5I/AAAAAAAAAcI/_9bX_CkiNp0/s400/chococake.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I wish I could take credit for this but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cresta&lt;/span&gt; was kind enough to give me the cake recipe and the glaze comes from Becky's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Flourless&lt;/span&gt; Chocolate Cake which is heaven on earth (I'm not sure I'm ready yet to share a recipe that is so close to my heart, maybe next time.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-7854756510616302404?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7854756510616302404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=7854756510616302404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/7854756510616302404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/7854756510616302404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/09/tuesday-musings.html' title='Tuesday Musings'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SM3AcpDLm5I/AAAAAAAAAcI/_9bX_CkiNp0/s72-c/chococake.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-1183173520328816520</id><published>2008-08-22T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T16:23:04.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Are you addicted to anything? And if so what??&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Let's start at the beginning, shall we? First of all we have chocolate. I could not live with out chocolate. I'm not sure if chocolate is an addiction or an necessity, like air. I'll get back to you on that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9GpsaXJRI/AAAAAAAAAZw/ELstLgT9jxc/s1600-h/chocolate_ef.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237482573765485842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9GpsaXJRI/AAAAAAAAAZw/ELstLgT9jxc/s200/chocolate_ef.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9Dxv2a1EI/AAAAAAAAAZo/pgQSPdT6U9Y/s1600-h/coco.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237479413592544322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9Dxv2a1EI/AAAAAAAAAZo/pgQSPdT6U9Y/s200/coco.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After chocolate, we'll go in no particular order. Another of my addictions that I can't seem to kick is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Freecell&lt;/span&gt;. I can't turn on the computer without playing at least three games.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9DJ5xXcuI/AAAAAAAAAZI/g57Qpm5qXxE/s1600-h/freecell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237478729060938466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9DJ5xXcuI/AAAAAAAAAZI/g57Qpm5qXxE/s400/freecell.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There are certain things I check every day, e-mail, mother's group calendar and message board, a couple news sites, but at the end of the day, if I haven't checked &lt;a href="http://www.perezhilton.com/"&gt;Perez Hilton&lt;/a&gt;, I feel like the world has continued to turn on its axis and I've been left behind, floating in space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9DJzkPzlI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/ySZh9dOA2MY/s1600-h/perez.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237478727395298898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9DJzkPzlI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/ySZh9dOA2MY/s400/perez.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Then there are the fat rolls.  Kissing these fat rolls seems to wipe all stress away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9DKNLP6MI/AAAAAAAAAZY/XdoJWhYDqAI/s1600-h/016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237478734269769922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9DKNLP6MI/AAAAAAAAAZY/XdoJWhYDqAI/s400/016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There are also the goofs.  Theo is turning into quite the little clown and I couldn't get through a day with him making me laugh (mostly because he can't seem to get through a day without making me crying.  I will be so happy when he's fully potty trained.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9DKXu5A6I/AAAAAAAAAZg/QGbk3byDDJc/s1600-h/GLAM+Hat+Party+037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237478737103618978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9DKXu5A6I/AAAAAAAAAZg/QGbk3byDDJc/s400/GLAM+Hat+Party+037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Then there's my Big Hunk &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;o'Love&lt;/span&gt;.  No, not the cat, the big lug holding the cat.  He's my biggest addiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9GqIxNeTI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/iVs0izT-_Pc/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237482581377513778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9GqIxNeTI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/iVs0izT-_Pc/s200/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-1183173520328816520?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/1183173520328816520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=1183173520328816520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/1183173520328816520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/1183173520328816520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/08/tuesday-musings.html' title='Tuesday Musings'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SK9GpsaXJRI/AAAAAAAAAZw/ELstLgT9jxc/s72-c/chocolate_ef.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-2614861461432187639</id><published>2008-08-01T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T18:29:49.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Topic: Laughing Gas at the Dentist Office&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I have a problem with the way Dentists' offices handle laughing gas. For some reason they all seem to believe that it should be used when a patient is in the dentist chair. I, on the other hand, believe that laughing gas should be administered as soon as one arrives at the dentist's office. Why must we sit in the boring waiting area, reading boring, outdated magazines and watching the receptionist's idea of a good talk show? Get a few fish tanks, a ball pit and a bean bag and pump the good stuff straight into the waiting room. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SJO33vWW4RI/AAAAAAAAAUg/pEaHHl7viB0/s1600-h/2004-04-12-laughing.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229725760538206482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SJO33vWW4RI/AAAAAAAAAUg/pEaHHl7viB0/s400/2004-04-12-laughing.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-2614861461432187639?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2614861461432187639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=2614861461432187639' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2614861461432187639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2614861461432187639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/08/ffa.html' title='FFA'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SJO33vWW4RI/AAAAAAAAAUg/pEaHHl7viB0/s72-c/2004-04-12-laughing.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-2464314059496560179</id><published>2008-07-31T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T19:26:35.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This week's biggest pet peeve</title><content type='html'>I hate it when you're in the shower and the shower curtain is pushed up against you. Or, as in my case, your toddler breaks into the bathroom and shoves it against you again and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SJJ0JOQboQI/AAAAAAAAAUY/g5ZDo3InNfk/s1600-h/shower.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229369819125227778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SJJ0JOQboQI/AAAAAAAAAUY/g5ZDo3InNfk/s400/shower.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-2464314059496560179?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2464314059496560179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=2464314059496560179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2464314059496560179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2464314059496560179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-weeks-biggest-pet-peeve.html' title='This week&apos;s biggest pet peeve'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SJJ0JOQboQI/AAAAAAAAAUY/g5ZDo3InNfk/s72-c/shower.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-6923875153097866409</id><published>2008-07-24T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T21:41:47.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #14</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Rewrite the following classic nursery rhyme as it applies to your life -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For want of a nail the shoe was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of a shoe the horse was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of a horse the rider was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of a rider the battle was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.&lt;br /&gt;And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This is about how the mess spreads in my home:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#660000;"&gt;For want of clean pans the counter space was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of counter space the kitchen was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of a kitchen the dining room was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of a dining room the living room was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of a living room the downstairs was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of a downstairs the upstairs was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of an upstairs the house was lost.&lt;br /&gt;For want of a house the sanity was lost.&lt;br /&gt;And all for the want of clean pans.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SIlZWWllb-I/AAAAAAAAATY/1CkxUsN4lqg/s1600-h/MyMessyHouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226807083095388130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SIlZWWllb-I/AAAAAAAAATY/1CkxUsN4lqg/s400/MyMessyHouse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;P.S. Not really my house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-6923875153097866409?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6923875153097866409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=6923875153097866409' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6923875153097866409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6923875153097866409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/07/tuesday-musings-14.html' title='Tuesday Musings #14'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SIlZWWllb-I/AAAAAAAAATY/1CkxUsN4lqg/s72-c/MyMessyHouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-8798510370104434177</id><published>2008-07-14T18:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T19:15:57.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #13</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;List five things that drive you crazy and make you want to go live in a cabin on a mountainside and never see another human being. Then, list five things that make you smile even on the rainiest of days.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I don’t like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  People who curse at their children in public&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHPnz9bJI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/i2qORkYamXY/s1600-h/curse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223057632809282706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHPnz9bJI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/i2qORkYamXY/s200/curse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 2.  Really hot and humid days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHP8ZwtNI/AAAAAAAAARA/qNwdWp4ZITc/s1600-h/hot+humid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223057638336541906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHP8ZwtNI/AAAAAAAAARA/qNwdWp4ZITc/s200/hot+humid.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Insane drivers, especially those who speed down our street&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHQC10UcI/AAAAAAAAARI/t3PxyzfG67o/s1600-h/car.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223057640064831938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHQC10UcI/AAAAAAAAARI/t3PxyzfG67o/s200/car.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 4.  People who think they have a right to comment on anything and everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHQLQ2HHI/AAAAAAAAARQ/VQKvzytTLyc/s1600-h/shouting_loud_body.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223057642325679218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHQLQ2HHI/AAAAAAAAARQ/VQKvzytTLyc/s200/shouting_loud_body.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 5.  People who leave their dogs outside to bark all day and night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHQXcY6fI/AAAAAAAAARY/y5SvgFLUH2A/s1600-h/dogbarking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223057645595322866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHQXcY6fI/AAAAAAAAARY/y5SvgFLUH2A/s200/dogbarking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Things I love about Life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  The smile of a baby (especially my own)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwGqgHbA6I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/ZdE46uMWGq8/s1600-h/052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223056995088270242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwGqgHbA6I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/ZdE46uMWGq8/s200/052.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 2.  The beach at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwGq1qZybI/AAAAAAAAAQY/bVGVQ5DZ2LI/s1600-h/10NightBeach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223057000872135090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwGq1qZybI/AAAAAAAAAQY/bVGVQ5DZ2LI/s200/10NightBeach.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 3.  Seeing the Milky Way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwGrI0aZ5I/AAAAAAAAAQg/fO3v7xY5WgE/s1600-h/MilkyWayRoad_landolfi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223057006014392210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwGrI0aZ5I/AAAAAAAAAQg/fO3v7xY5WgE/s200/MilkyWayRoad_landolfi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 4.  Chocolate Cake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwGrF2q1LI/AAAAAAAAAQo/hsBms4lvgmo/s1600-h/chococake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223057005218550962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwGrF2q1LI/AAAAAAAAAQo/hsBms4lvgmo/s200/chococake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 5.  When my house is clean and after a long day I can lie down on the couch with popcorn popped in a pot and a huge glass of watered down orange juice and watch a really good movie and the kids stay asleep through the whole thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwGrejr_wI/AAAAAAAAAQw/1WG4VozDYwc/s1600-h/pop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223057011849821954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwGrejr_wI/AAAAAAAAAQw/1WG4VozDYwc/s200/pop.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-8798510370104434177?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8798510370104434177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=8798510370104434177' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/8798510370104434177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/8798510370104434177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/07/tuesday-musings-13.html' title='Tuesday Musings #13'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SHwHPnz9bJI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/i2qORkYamXY/s72-c/curse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-1735151722116995665</id><published>2008-07-09T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T12:16:41.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #12</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you regret anything that you have done in your lifetime and if so what?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yeah.  That I didn't have this wedding.  &lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/URfuZGIGO8g&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/URfuZGIGO8g&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;Most of the other stuff I would do a little differently I've gotten over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-1735151722116995665?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/1735151722116995665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=1735151722116995665' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/1735151722116995665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/1735151722116995665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/07/tuesday-musings-12.html' title='Tuesday Musings #12'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-7278133997957560356</id><published>2008-07-02T16:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T18:56:48.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #11</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Growing up what extra curricular activities did you get to try? Which activity was your favorite and which was your least favorite? If you didn't have an opportunity which do you wish you could of tried? Pictures Please! :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I wasn't really one for extra curricular activities, unless you consider doing all I could to avoid curricular activities an extra curricular activity. Remember all those John Hughes films about the losers vs the cool kids/jocks and the losers always came out on top? Well, I was Watts in &lt;em&gt;Some Kind of Wonderful &lt;/em&gt;without the hot boyfriend at the end of the movie. I was what some might have considered a slacker, a loafer, a punk. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I know, you're shaking your head saying, 'not Claire.' But, I guarantee it is the truth. The cheerleaders even started a rumor that I was a lesbian. I missed 1/3 of the required about of gym my junior year and still passed because the very masculine, female gym teacher thought I was entertaining (she even had a pet name for me I won't repeat). I bummed rides off my friends all through high school and can't honestly say all of my past times were completely legal. My parents accused me on a regular basis of appearing to be homeless. I dyed my hair more colors than the rainbow. My home-EC teacher tried to get me suspended because she didn't like that I wore my hair half covering my face. And I spent the last year of high school grounded, yep, the whole year. I &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; a John Hughes character.&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FZfbQQF5rDA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FZfbQQF5rDA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Maybe I am a little more like Watts than I first assumed. I didn't get the hot guy in high school but I did get the dreamy guy in the end...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-7278133997957560356?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7278133997957560356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=7278133997957560356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/7278133997957560356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/7278133997957560356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/07/tuesday-musings-11.html' title='Tuesday Musings #11'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-2180632880048242275</id><published>2008-06-28T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T06:49:35.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #15</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;What would you do if you had 30 minutes with absolutely NO accountability whatsoever (moral, ethical, legal, etc.)?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live on 3rd Street. Third Street is parallel to 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; St. Fourth Street is a main street with a speed limit of 35 mph. On our street, we have a playground and Community Center and a speed limit of 20 mph. What I don't get about this situation is why every vehicle (including the police vehicles that frequent our neighborhood) have to barrel down our street at 40 mph. The semis prefer our street (I assume because we lack stop lights) and don't even pretend to slow down.&lt;br /&gt;Last year, our neighbor witness some jerk in his over-sized phallus speeding down our street and get out to yell at some child going to the playground for not getting out of his way fast enough.&lt;br /&gt;So, here is what I would do: I would set up spikes on our street that flatten tires of anyone going over the speed limit.&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGY7qHuvZnI/AAAAAAAAAM4/X4KUBbdoorw/s1600-h/force-71.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216922813170935410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGY7qHuvZnI/AAAAAAAAAM4/X4KUBbdoorw/s400/force-71.jpg" border="0" /&gt; I wish that I could say that would satisfy me but I must admit that I would feel the need to explain to this person after they swerved of the road why this happened to them. Summing up with something along the lines of: "You are a selfish, ignorant ****." Then I would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;taser&lt;/span&gt; them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGY-Nb8OHhI/AAAAAAAAANI/i8L7psevyFk/s1600-h/taser_stinger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216925618914860562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGY-Nb8OHhI/AAAAAAAAANI/i8L7psevyFk/s400/taser_stinger.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Then, If they looked like this guy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGY_Xs2n2dI/AAAAAAAAANQ/_RgUv5YVv-E/s1600-h/mullet1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216926894765103570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGY_Xs2n2dI/AAAAAAAAANQ/_RgUv5YVv-E/s400/mullet1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I would give them a good, swift kick in the gut while they were down and tell them their hair made them look like the trash they are. And, around here that would be most of the people who drive, including the teens and women.&lt;br /&gt;There was probably a day when, if given 30 guilt free minutes, I would have done something exciting and exotic. But now all I want is for some peace and quiet. I want &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Luc&lt;/span&gt; to be able to take a nap without being woken up by a rusted out exhaust or ghetto rap being played by some kid named Colt who only graduated high school because his dad said he had to if he ever wanted to drive the tractor again after his 3rd DUI.  I guess turning 32 has changed me.&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Sorry I'm late yet again.  Theo's got a stomach bug.  You don't want to know...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-2180632880048242275?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2180632880048242275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=2180632880048242275' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2180632880048242275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2180632880048242275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/ffa-15.html' title='FFA #15'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGY7qHuvZnI/AAAAAAAAAM4/X4KUBbdoorw/s72-c/force-71.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-1990863892355718844</id><published>2008-06-26T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T12:29:03.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #10</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you collect anything? If so, what? If not then, why…or what would you collect if you had to start a collection? Pictures please!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So here's my lame excuse for doing my Tuesday Musings on a Thursday: The camera batteries were dead and needed charging and I had no pictures of my mirrors so I had to charge the batteries and take pictures before I could post. Maybe next week I'll be on time.&lt;br /&gt;Well, if you haven't figured it out, I collect mirrors. I love mirrors with cool frames. I saw one I loved in a gallery in Socorro, NM when I was visiting my brother Matt. I bought it and the rest is history. This one I found in a back alley art shop in Conway, NH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGPp9VMWhLI/AAAAAAAAAMo/ewhN8zPBTeE/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216270033295410354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGPp9VMWhLI/AAAAAAAAAMo/ewhN8zPBTeE/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I got this one at a garage sale for 25 cents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGPp-O5LW1I/AAAAAAAAAMw/R7ifPl2mSKU/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216270048784243538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGPp-O5LW1I/AAAAAAAAAMw/R7ifPl2mSKU/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't know how many I have now. Some of my favorites are the large mirror that Grandma Blanche just gave me that has been in our family for years; the other large mirror in my collection (most of them are very small) that Matt and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Steph&lt;/span&gt; got me while on their honeymoon; the little mirror made out of soda cans that they got me in South Africa; and a hand mirror that my parents bought my in Peter's Valley (an artists' community in NJ).&lt;br /&gt;The latest addition to my collection is a mirror with a beautiful classic frame that my in-laws got me for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;My dream is to one day have a house of our own where I can put all the mirrors very close together and fill up the entire wall with my eclectic collection. One day.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-1990863892355718844?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/1990863892355718844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=1990863892355718844' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/1990863892355718844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/1990863892355718844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/do-you-collect-anything-if-so-what-if.html' title='Tuesday Musings #10'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SGPp9VMWhLI/AAAAAAAAAMo/ewhN8zPBTeE/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-2945472145181739120</id><published>2008-06-20T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T14:13:33.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #14</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Freewrite on the following cliche: "A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Okay, so the first thing that comes to mind, is something about how our 'kingdom' is being run by a horse, or an ass, or a combination of the two. I'm going to leave it at for now because I have many dishes and much laundry to do but maybe I'll revisit the topic if the mood hits me over the weekend. Happy Friday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SFwdWW1AmZI/AAAAAAAAAMY/wq5KYwz3EKs/s1600-h/funny-pictures-horse-in-car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214074738510436754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SFwdWW1AmZI/AAAAAAAAAMY/wq5KYwz3EKs/s400/funny-pictures-horse-in-car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-2945472145181739120?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2945472145181739120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=2945472145181739120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2945472145181739120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/2945472145181739120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/ffa-14.html' title='FFA #14'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SFwdWW1AmZI/AAAAAAAAAMY/wq5KYwz3EKs/s72-c/funny-pictures-horse-in-car.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-3119669929589777528</id><published>2008-06-19T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T20:17:49.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Hadschi Halef Omar, you get me every time!</title><content type='html'>This is for Cresta because she sends me funny things like Buffalax videos. (Warning: For those with children this is PG)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UfSnNsFdrVU&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UfSnNsFdrVU&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-3119669929589777528?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3119669929589777528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=3119669929589777528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/3119669929589777528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/3119669929589777528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/oh-hadschi-halef-omar-you-get-me-every.html' title='Oh Hadschi Halef Omar, you get me every time!'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-9013304576953934275</id><published>2008-06-16T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T19:57:44.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #9</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Imagine your life is now a book. In 100 words, write the blurb for it. (It’s what people will read on the back cover.)”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SFnKY7MOuPI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/qRLo4nFEVnE/s1600-h/pop_blank_book_cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213420573212719346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SFnKY7MOuPI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/qRLo4nFEVnE/s400/pop_blank_book_cover.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;She was an typical girl with an typical upbringing. She was average at everything she did and nothing prepared her for the whirlwind to come. Follow Claire as she defies all common sense. Come along on her journey through bad decisions, rash judgments and illogical reasoning as she attempts to muddle through her life without causing irreparable harm to her loved ones. You will laugh as she makes a fool of herself and cry as she tries to prepare edible food for her unsuspecting family. Join her on her journey. Just remember, whatever you do, do not follow her example. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S. Sorry its late!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-9013304576953934275?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/9013304576953934275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=9013304576953934275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/9013304576953934275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/9013304576953934275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/tuesday-musings-9.html' title='Tuesday Musings #9'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SFnKY7MOuPI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/qRLo4nFEVnE/s72-c/pop_blank_book_cover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-8102966125050291637</id><published>2008-06-13T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T13:08:32.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Know I'm a Crappy Mother (Part III of Many)</title><content type='html'>I encourage this kind of behavior.&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6pQrRuzqiDU"&gt; &lt;/param&gt; &lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6pQrRuzqiDU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt; &lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-8102966125050291637?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8102966125050291637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=8102966125050291637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/8102966125050291637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/8102966125050291637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/how-i-know-im-crappy-mother-part-iii-of.html' title='How I Know I&apos;m a Crappy Mother (Part III of Many)'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-3946530120689432740</id><published>2008-06-13T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T10:32:39.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #13</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is something you are completely fantastic at, and what is something you are really crappy at?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I am really good at being me. I mean, I can't tell you how many times I have heard, "Only you would do something like that!" People aren't saying this all the time because Joe Schmo could pull off being me. I have to admit that every time I hear, "You are making a spectacle of yourself," I can't help but think, "I can't help it if people want to stare at my gloriousnesses."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;If there is one thing I am really crappy at it is remembering to get the garbage out to the curb on Tuesday nights.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SFKvAASFBzI/AAAAAAAAAKg/EdSnVSLTklk/s1600-h/garbage_can2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211420133431772978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SFKvAASFBzI/AAAAAAAAAKg/EdSnVSLTklk/s200/garbage_can2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-3946530120689432740?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3946530120689432740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=3946530120689432740' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/3946530120689432740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/3946530120689432740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-is-something-you-are-completely.html' title='FFA #13'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SFKvAASFBzI/AAAAAAAAAKg/EdSnVSLTklk/s72-c/garbage_can2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-6781135894223004341</id><published>2008-06-11T12:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T14:24:10.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged.</title><content type='html'>So, my dear friend Peggy hates me so she tagged me. So, as if you aren't sick enough of my babbling, here goes...&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;What was I doing 10 years ago?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten years ago I was working full time doing customer service and collections for AT&amp;amp;T Universal Card. It sucked but it paid well for the effort I had to put in and I worked great hours so I had lots of free time to play.&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;What are five things on my to-do list today?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take Theo to his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kindermusik&lt;/span&gt; class.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take Theo to the Imagination Station to burn off some energy and make a mess someplace other than home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Call in Matt's allergy prescription.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make a grocery list and go shopping.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Try and clean off my favorite blue shoes that have been dirty since last summer.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;What are some snacks that I enjoy?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Any gummy candy (preferable not sour), Cheetos, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Chex&lt;/span&gt; Mix, chocolate chips and peanuts (Theo and I eat this one regularly) Wheat Thins, anything chocolate, etc...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;Things I would do if I were a billionaire.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pay off debt.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Put a big chunk in savings.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Put money away for the boys' college fund.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Buy a car that will simultaneously hold our stroller and our groceries.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Give big chunks of money to the people I love and some charities.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm assuming that any money that is left over will quickly be used up putting gas in my new car.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. &lt;strong&gt;Places I've lived.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;New Hampshire (Manchester)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;New York (Staten Island)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Utah (West Valley, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Holladay&lt;/span&gt;, Sugar House, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Magna&lt;/span&gt;, Murray &amp;amp; Salt Lake)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Belgium (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Charleroi&lt;/span&gt;, Liege &amp;amp; Brussels)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;France (Strasbourg &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Villefranche&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sur&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Mer&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Massachusetts (Lynn &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Ayer&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Indiana&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Since I had to suffer through this, I'm spreading the joy. Amy, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Steph&lt;/span&gt; (don't worry, I can wait until you're back from girls' camp), Jean and Michelle, I tag you!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-6781135894223004341?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6781135894223004341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=6781135894223004341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6781135894223004341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6781135894223004341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/tagged.html' title='Tagged.'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-8202297379148120802</id><published>2008-06-09T19:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T19:51:17.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #8</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who was the last person you prank called? What did you say?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I've been thinking about this for well over 24 hours now and I honestly can't remember. I hope you'll all forgive me but I'm going to have to go with the most memorable prank instead. It wasn't original and it wasn't funny. It was just plain dumb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I was in the fourth grade and my teacher was Mrs. Hutchinson (I think). Even if I am not 100% sure about her name I can remember her. She was everything you would imagine a fourth grade teacher to be. She was in her 50's or 60's with straight, chin length graying hair. She always wore the latest in aging hippie wear right down to the over sized bead necklaces and orthopedic sandals. She was very nice and had one of those voices that could always soothe the troubled child (except when you didn't do your homework which was most days for me).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I remember her teaching us songs for all the holidays. I think my love of Halloween blossomed when she taught us the words to &lt;em&gt;The Cat Came Back&lt;/em&gt;. What she didn't teach us was that when you try to prank someone the rag over the receiver never works like it does in the spy movie of old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So, there we are, me and some equally dumb siblings and/or friends, I'm a little fuzzy on who was there. I someone, possible me, suggests that we call our teachers. I'm up first. She answers. I say with confidence (because the rag is disguising my voice and all), "Is this Mrs. Hutchinson?" To which she replies, "Claire Chadwick, is that you?" I then hung up, absolutely mortified and swore off prank phone calls which I'm sure lasted at least a week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;To this day I believe that prank phone call is the reason she failed me in vocabulary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SE89bRxVAvI/AAAAAAAAAKY/qV_uZl-ueHU/s1600-h/Telephone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210450832727016178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SE89bRxVAvI/AAAAAAAAAKY/qV_uZl-ueHU/s320/Telephone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-8202297379148120802?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8202297379148120802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=8202297379148120802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/8202297379148120802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/8202297379148120802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/tuesday-musings-8.html' title='Tuesday Musings #8'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SE89bRxVAvI/AAAAAAAAAKY/qV_uZl-ueHU/s72-c/Telephone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-4560621497630974507</id><published>2008-06-06T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T06:42:57.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #12</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When Technology Goes Too Far...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I don't think technology goes far enough. Let's face it, if we have the know-how to have everything done for us by robots, why the hell do I still have to stuff?!? I want housecleaning robots. I want to stand on a conveyor belt and ride through my shower in the morning. I want to lift my arms and have clothes put on me. I want a huge vacuum that comes down from the ceiling, sucks up all of Theo's toys and sorts then neatly into their respective bins.  I want a potty training robot that tracks Theo as he moves around the house, recognizes when he is ready to go to the bathroom, lifts him up and sticks him on the toilet.  I want a robot that changes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Luc's&lt;/span&gt; diaper.  I want something that actually picks cat hair up off of furniture.  I want lasers all over my house that set off alarms when Theo gets into stuff he's not supposed to.  And I want a car that folds into a briefcase. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DFbuulDiM_U&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DFbuulDiM_U&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-4560621497630974507?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4560621497630974507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=4560621497630974507' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/4560621497630974507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/4560621497630974507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/ffa-12.html' title='FFA #12'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-3945130749509943010</id><published>2008-06-03T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T14:58:03.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>World of Wal-Marts</title><content type='html'>A few years ago Tim and Sarah gave us a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pepperball&lt;/span&gt; for Christmas.  We love pepper and we loved our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pepperball&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wel&lt;/span&gt;, a couple days ago Theo threw our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;pepperball&lt;/span&gt; on the floor with enough force to break our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pepperball&lt;/span&gt;.  Very sad.  So, we added &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;pepperball&lt;/span&gt; to our grocery list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEWzVtcbAcI/AAAAAAAAAIU/TG1rLtpq3UY/s1600-h/pepper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207765729681277378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEWzVtcbAcI/AAAAAAAAAIU/TG1rLtpq3UY/s320/pepper.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In our area there are three &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Marts.  The first is located in the commercial center.  We went there once.  As we were walking there were a group of Amish girls were walking in and a mother and son, a very typical mother and son for this area, walked in and the son looked at the girls and yelled, "F***&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; Amish!!"  Maybe if the mother had done something other than nod in agreement it wouldn't have bee so offensive (okay, nothing could have made it less offensive.)  We swore we would never go to that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart again.  Then there is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart we do go to.  It is new, clean and in a newer part of town.  I am not going to say that it doesn't have its share of questionable characters because 1. it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart and 2. we live in Indiana.  The third &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart is on the other side of the university.  We call it the "student &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart".  Although we haven't sworn it off like we have the trashy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart, we try to avoid going there.  The name says it all.&lt;br /&gt;Last night we had to go shopping.  We were only a couple blocks from the student &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart and didn't didn't want to have to drive to the other side of town so we slummed it.  Well, I went looking for a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;pepperball&lt;/span&gt;.  In all of the Super &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart they had 1 short isle which included all the pots, pans, knifes, kitchen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;accessories&lt;/span&gt;, etc that they carried.  I guess when you cook on a hot plate and/or eat McDonald's for every meal, that's all you need.  What it some down to was they had no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;pepper mills&lt;/span&gt;, not even a pepper shaker!  What they did have were ashtrays.  Not one ashtray but many ashtrays in a variety of colors and sizes.  Apparently, ashtrays are kitchens essentials but flavor in your food is not.  I love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-3945130749509943010?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3945130749509943010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=3945130749509943010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/3945130749509943010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/3945130749509943010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/world-of-wal-marts.html' title='World of Wal-Marts'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEWzVtcbAcI/AAAAAAAAAIU/TG1rLtpq3UY/s72-c/pepper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-6285114860315423377</id><published>2008-06-03T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T12:58:32.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Because</title><content type='html'>The woman, the chicken, the knife, its all so John Waters. I love it.&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=34359205"&gt;Julien Doré - Les Limites (Clip TV2)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;object width="430px" height="386px"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"/&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"/&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf"/&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="culture=en-US&amp;a=0&amp;ap=0&amp;y=0&amp;m=34359205&amp;userid=-1&amp;showmenus=0&amp;remove=0&amp;t=&amp;type=video"/&gt;&lt;embed src="http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf" width="430" height="386" flashvars="culture=en-US&amp;a=0&amp;ap=0&amp;y=0&amp;m=34359205&amp;userid=-1&amp;showmenus=0&amp;remove=0&amp;t=&amp;type=video" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-6285114860315423377?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6285114860315423377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=6285114860315423377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6285114860315423377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6285114860315423377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/julien-dor-les-limites-clip-tv2.html' title='Just Because'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-3546077707403181730</id><published>2008-06-03T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T09:44:02.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #7</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you woke up tomorrow morning and were someone else, who would you hope to be?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;We are going to file this under no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;brainer&lt;/span&gt;: Angelina Jolie. Yes, I know she has had quite the checkered past to say the least but here are my reasons:&lt;br /&gt;She looks like this when she’s pregnant:&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVslzSb_II/AAAAAAAAAHs/BJP_iwC217I/s1600-h/pregangie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207687940802346114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVslzSb_II/AAAAAAAAAHs/BJP_iwC217I/s320/pregangie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I look like this:&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVsm9oacxI/AAAAAAAAAH0/uY5g_nTNx7Q/s1600-h/butt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207687960758743826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVsm9oacxI/AAAAAAAAAH0/uY5g_nTNx7Q/s320/butt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She looks like this after being pregnant:&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVsn-HzZ0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/urjno_rV86w/s1600-h/wanted.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207687978070271810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVsn-HzZ0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/urjno_rV86w/s320/wanted.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I look like this:&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVsol-axeI/AAAAAAAAAIE/j0fjxo9ByaI/s1600-h/sand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207687988768327138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVsol-axeI/AAAAAAAAAIE/j0fjxo9ByaI/s320/sand.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She lives here:&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVspYtIVXI/AAAAAAAAAIM/mvH_mCPehcw/s1600-h/VilleFranchebay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207688002386023794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVspYtIVXI/AAAAAAAAAIM/mvH_mCPehcw/s320/VilleFranchebay.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I used to live there (in the cluster of orange houses on the right) and now I in the same state with this guy: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVsVTrfssI/AAAAAAAAAHk/d8bhNpjaIAg/s1600-h/mullet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207687657439605442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVsVTrfssI/AAAAAAAAAHk/d8bhNpjaIAg/s320/mullet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She has many nannies that take care of her children so she can get her nails done and take naps.&lt;br /&gt;I have regular nervous breakdowns (usually between 3:30 an 5:00 pm) six days a week.&lt;br /&gt;She gets to spend her free time traveling the world and helping people.&lt;br /&gt;I spent my free time blogging about her.&lt;br /&gt;She has a pilot's license.&lt;br /&gt;It is only a matter of time before I get my driver''s &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;license&lt;/span&gt; revoked.&lt;br /&gt;She has lots and lots of money.&lt;br /&gt;I don't.&lt;br /&gt;I could go on but you get the idea. No, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t trade in Matt for Brad Pitt and I still think my kids are cuter than any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;celebuspawns&lt;/span&gt; out there but man, she’s got it good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-3546077707403181730?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3546077707403181730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=3546077707403181730' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/3546077707403181730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/3546077707403181730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/06/tuesday-musings-5.html' title='Tuesday Musings #7'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEVslzSb_II/AAAAAAAAAHs/BJP_iwC217I/s72-c/pregangie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-919920008507789120</id><published>2008-05-31T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T08:40:36.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #11</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Write a letter to someone apologizing for something you're not really sorry for!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;FFAers&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am sorry that I didn't get to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;FFA&lt;/span&gt; on Friday. I know that it should be my priority over all other things. I understand that even though I have an excruciating ear infection, my husband who suffers from terrible seasonal allergies went and got himself a landscaping job and is so beat at the end of the day that he doesn't always want to take the kids when he gets home, I found out this week that Theo has another cyst that needs removed surgically and we spent all of Tuesday in the pediatric cardiologist's office because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Luc&lt;/span&gt; had to have all sorts of tests done and the cardiologist forgot he had appointments in Lafayette and spent all morning sitting in Indianapolis, I am not excused from my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;FFA&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;responsibilities&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When my friend called yesterday and told me that our other friend needed a break from her toddler I should have said, "No, I have to stay home and apologize for something I'm not sorry for (which lately seems to be more and more lately)."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So, I hope you can forgive me for not getting my letter done on time this week. Which, if you hadn't caught on was one hell of a crappy week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sincerely,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Claire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEFw7KdW0XI/AAAAAAAAAFE/tGi0MR1b3HE/s1600-h/sticking+out+tongue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206566805939081586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEFw7KdW0XI/AAAAAAAAAFE/tGi0MR1b3HE/s320/sticking+out+tongue.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-919920008507789120?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/919920008507789120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=919920008507789120' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/919920008507789120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/919920008507789120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/ffa-11.html' title='FFA #11'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SEFw7KdW0XI/AAAAAAAAAFE/tGi0MR1b3HE/s72-c/sticking+out+tongue.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-8906940048406565381</id><published>2008-05-30T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T08:44:22.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Know I'm a Crappy Mother (Part II of Many)</title><content type='html'>Theo is a very energetic little boy to say the least.  I am not going to pretend that I am always patient enough to handle all of his adventures and mishaps.  Friday, he woke up came in my room and said, "Mom, you're not going to yell today.  Don't scream today, ok?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-8906940048406565381?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8906940048406565381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=8906940048406565381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/8906940048406565381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/8906940048406565381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/how-i-know-im-crappy-mother-part-ii-of.html' title='How I Know I&apos;m a Crappy Mother (Part II of Many)'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-6642328481487634941</id><published>2008-05-27T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T11:55:52.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings</title><content type='html'>This week's Tuesday Musings assignment was to write a sonnet about potty training (or for those who can't handle potty training talk right now, some other mess that your child has made). I am a terrible poet but here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had begun with a doll and a smear,&lt;br /&gt;In he strutted with a smile, not a frown,&lt;br /&gt;In me it brought not a smile but a tear,&lt;br /&gt;For to see his poop as he had lain down.&lt;br /&gt;He has long given up on his diapers,&lt;br /&gt;Preferring to dance and sway in the buff.&lt;br /&gt;As he grows and keeps getting more hyper,&lt;br /&gt;I have the need so much more to be tough.&lt;br /&gt;This may be a new low for my wee pip,&lt;br /&gt;Blaming his poop on a guiltless &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;poupee&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I had mind to fling him over my hip.&lt;br /&gt;But to laughter my tears had to give way.&lt;br /&gt;     I know in my heart he will use the pot,&lt;br /&gt;     To that day I look forward a whole lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;accompanying&lt;/span&gt; videos. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;WARNING&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Not for the weak of stomach!! Watch at your own risk!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JWPkiaAB1sw&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JWPkiaAB1sw&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jfWF5soMKMA&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jfWF5soMKMA&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-6642328481487634941?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6642328481487634941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=6642328481487634941' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6642328481487634941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6642328481487634941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/tuesday-musings.html' title='Tuesday Musings'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-4617504025711781506</id><published>2008-05-23T12:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T09:00:01.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Know I'm a Crappy Mother (Part I of Many)</title><content type='html'>I don't know what prompted it but for the last few days Theo has responded to my 'I love you's with, "I don't love you." I don't know if he thought he was being funny or if he is just being contradictory because he is 2 but I do know I wasn't expecting this until puberty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, today he finally decided to elaborate on his newly found dislike of his mother. After I told him I loved him, he informed me, "I don't love you. You are a monster mommy." Great, not only does my child not like me but now I am a monster. I haven't even grounded you yet, kid!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Update:  Theo spent a couple minutes this morning saying, "I don't love you, mommy.  Just daddy.  I love daddy and not you.  I don't love you.  I just love daddy..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-4617504025711781506?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4617504025711781506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=4617504025711781506' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/4617504025711781506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/4617504025711781506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/how-i-know-im-crappy-mother-part-i-of.html' title='How I Know I&apos;m a Crappy Mother (Part I of Many)'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-6209207877718805788</id><published>2008-05-23T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T12:11:38.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #10</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SDcPmKdW0LI/AAAAAAAAADk/kDKt-Ht_FHw/s1600-h/hero2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203645042766827698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SDcPmKdW0LI/AAAAAAAAADk/kDKt-Ht_FHw/s320/hero2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who should play you in the movie version of your life?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an easy one for me to answer because a movie has already been made about my life. Some of you may have seen it. Names were changed to protect the not so innocent and I chose the name Muriel. It was released in 1994 in Australia and 1995 in America, under the name &lt;em&gt;Muriel's Wedding.&lt;/em&gt; Toni Collette played me and we were close enough in size back then that she was even able to wear some of my clothes (to preserve authenticity). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have to admit that the screenwriters took some liberties. Such as, my first husband was an Olympic runner, not a swimmer; obviously I did not grow up in Australia (although I will humbly admit that I am more popular Down Under); Matt was working as a janitor, not a video store clerk when we met, things of that nature, but I understood that details would be changed when I signed on.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SDcWOKdW0NI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Tk7cpSsz0SY/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203652327031361746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SDcWOKdW0NI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Tk7cpSsz0SY/s200/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, there it is. I'm happy that my story was able to springboard Toni Collette to bigger (but nothing could be better) things. She's a talented actress and I wish her the best.&lt;/p&gt;P.S. Here's a taste of her work (its not the best quality but Toni is the one in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt; wig and fabulous pants on stage):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_AuReu3bNmQ&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_AuReu3bNmQ&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-6209207877718805788?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6209207877718805788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=6209207877718805788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6209207877718805788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/6209207877718805788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/ffa-10.html' title='FFA #10'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SDcPmKdW0LI/AAAAAAAAADk/kDKt-Ht_FHw/s72-c/hero2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-7395611743220847806</id><published>2008-05-20T18:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T19:57:19.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #4</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;What was your feeling or thoughts when you held your child/children for the first time?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My experiences with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;births&lt;/span&gt; of my two sons were very different. With Theo I waited quite a while to get my drugs so I was very tired after all was said and done. I had the same nurse from beginning to end and she was Mormon. After Theo was born she ran everybody out of the room and sang "I am a Child of God" to Theo. &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SDOM2w-YM7I/AAAAAAAAACs/2vG6nWcR0hE/s1600-h/theo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202656867030414258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SDOM2w-YM7I/AAAAAAAAACs/2vG6nWcR0hE/s320/theo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Luc&lt;/span&gt; was born, I opted for drugs the second I was admitted. I was calm and well rested so I chose to have the mirror lowered so I could see the whole thing. There was a problem when I was pushing and to avoid an emergency C-section, the doctor sliced me open. So, instead of a calm few minutes after labor, I was watching the doctor try to repair his hacking job, that was a little unnerving, one would think that one of the four nurses would have thought to move the mirror. There were more people in the room and it was a bit chaotic. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SDOOHg-YM8I/AAAAAAAAAC0/OpjCyu2oj0M/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202658254304850882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SDOOHg-YM8I/AAAAAAAAAC0/OpjCyu2oj0M/s320/018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Amazingly, my thought process was very similar when I was handed each of them for the first time:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Wow! I make cute babies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am so glad that is over. I never want to be pregnant again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-7395611743220847806?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7395611743220847806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=7395611743220847806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/7395611743220847806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/7395611743220847806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/tuesday-musings-4.html' title='Tuesday Musings #4'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SDOM2w-YM7I/AAAAAAAAACs/2vG6nWcR0hE/s72-c/theo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-924682815038602481</id><published>2008-05-16T18:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T19:21:19.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #9</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Okay, we all know everyone has wonderful, cherished family and holiday traditions we just couldn't live without. (I mean, hey, where would Halloween be if I didn't traditionally sneak candy out of my kids treat bags after they've gone to bed?)&lt;br /&gt;But what are some of your traditions that you could really do without?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Since most of my family's traditions center around food, I really like most of them. I like food. Holiday food is the best because it is usually high in sugar and fat and tastes so much better than everyday food. I really like holiday food. Growing up, Christmas was the only time we got junk cereal too. I looked forward to that all year long. Let's not forget candy. Candy is integral for all holiday celebrations. We need the sugar to keep up the energy needed for holiday gaiety.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SC5Ayg-YM6I/AAAAAAAAACk/0DsRwqSTFs4/s1600-h/candy%2520cane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201165856248705954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SC5Ayg-YM6I/AAAAAAAAACk/0DsRwqSTFs4/s320/candy%2520cane.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The only complaint I have is that we used to get our Christmas tree on Christmas Eve. This was not a "tradition" per se but came about because the trees were usually marked down to no less than 50% off by then. I always wished that we could put the tree up earlier and spread the joy out a little bit longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yeah, I've pretty much got a blank slate to start from for our kids. I think I'll keep the good food thing going. It works for me. Matt didn't bring many traditions to the table either. I'm pretty sure he's happy with the food theme. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-924682815038602481?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/924682815038602481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=924682815038602481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/924682815038602481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/924682815038602481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/ffa-9.html' title='FFA #9'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SC5Ayg-YM6I/AAAAAAAAACk/0DsRwqSTFs4/s72-c/candy%2520cane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-4874576725625896681</id><published>2008-05-14T05:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T05:30:39.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Musings #3--Thanks Kristin</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where did you grow up/live as you grew up up until the present?  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was born in Colorado.  Lived in New &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hampshire&lt;/span&gt; until I was 3 and we moved to Staten Island, NY.  I lived there until I was 19 and moved to West Valley, UT, then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Holladay&lt;/span&gt;, then South Salt Lake, then West Valley again, then Salt Lake City, then Murray and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Magna&lt;/span&gt;.  When I went on my mission (for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;LDS&lt;/span&gt; church), I lived in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Charleroi&lt;/span&gt;, Liege and Brussels, Belgium and in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Schiltigheim&lt;/span&gt;, France.  Then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Magna&lt;/span&gt;, UT again, then Logan, UT, then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Magna&lt;/span&gt; again, then Provo.  Then I went to live in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Villefranche&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;sur&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Mer&lt;/span&gt; in France, (then a few weeks stop over in PA) then Lynn, MA, then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ayer&lt;/span&gt;, MA and finally here in Lafayette, IN. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;What is your earliest memory and how old were you? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't a clue.   I have vague memories of NH that involved dinosaur bugs and raspberry bushes and fresh water mussels in our stream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you play &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;paino&lt;/span&gt; or musical instrument at all or sports in high school or were you the studious type?  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have to go with &lt;em&gt;none of the above&lt;/em&gt; on this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is there anything that you did that you think your parents didn't know about(and remember they just might read this or your children could so be cautious).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure my parents know all the need to know (and more than they ever wanted to).&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In honor of Mother's Day...tell us something that you learned from your mother that you practice today and/or something that they did that you wish that you had started to do with your family or life. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother has always been a great bargain shopper.  I try to emulate that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Remember wishes can come true!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-4874576725625896681?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4874576725625896681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=4874576725625896681' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/4874576725625896681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/4874576725625896681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/tuesday-musings-3-thanks-kristin.html' title='Tuesday Musings #3--Thanks Kristin'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-8173560518059183971</id><published>2008-05-09T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T17:54:30.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #8 Part Deux</title><content type='html'>At the end of a day like today there is one thing I wish I could hide from my kids more than anything else in the world...myself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-8173560518059183971?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8173560518059183971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=8173560518059183971' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/8173560518059183971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/8173560518059183971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/ffa-8-part-deux.html' title='FFA #8 Part Deux'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-9097472541693737019</id><published>2008-05-09T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T07:38:49.387-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FFA #8</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;What do you, or would you, hide from your kids?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;You name, I'll hide it! Seeing how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Luc&lt;/span&gt; is 2 months old I don't think he's catching on to much yet but Theo, he's another story. I've gotten to the point where I will hide anything and everything from him. If I can fit it under, behind, below of above an object too large for a 2 year old to move, I will. He has his own set of beliefs about the way things work in this world. Here are some examples:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He thinks that diapers are hats and baby wipes don't belong in their boxes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Any container of liquid must be emptied IMMEDIATELY. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He thinks nothing is as fun as cutting everything in sight with the biggest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;knife&lt;/span&gt; he can get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;a hold&lt;/span&gt; of. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;No matter how many posters we put up on his walls, he has to color on the spaces that aren't covered. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Spare change belongs in his mouth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;If he can get his hands on a box of tissues, he miraculously has so many boogers that he needs to use all 120 tissues in one sitting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Garlic cloves are only good for one bite. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Credit cards, drivers' licenses and other similarly sized flat objects should be stuck in obscure locations. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Food I want to eat belongs to him. If I have a container of something edible he must confiscate it, ingest small amounts then dump the rest in the middle of the floor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Professional illustrators can never get it right and must be corrected with any crayon, pen or pencil he can find. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SCSDy5Vy4LI/AAAAAAAAABI/1pH5HVFlK9o/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198424780301328562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SCSDy5Vy4LI/AAAAAAAAABI/1pH5HVFlK9o/s320/015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Seven dollar electric toothbrush heads are perfect for cleaning dirt off the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bottom&lt;/span&gt; of shoes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Mom and dad's shoes are to be worn around the house then left in separate locations, as far apart from their mate as physically possible. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Puzzle pieces are edible. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The fish need to eat the entire container or fish food all at once even though in anyone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; house it would last 4 years. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Chap stick&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lip gloss&lt;/span&gt; must be spread all over his body when the opportunity presents itself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cat prefers her food off the floor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He really like to take our razors and "beard" his legs like mommy does. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Candles are good for scraping with your fingernails until nothing is left and there is wax all over the carpet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cereal should be emptied out on the floor and danced upon until it is nothing but minuscule crumbs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Eggs should be cracked in the living room. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Any thing that would be used to brush or comb hair is actually just a tool for beating on Cat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He likes to try and cut &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Luc's&lt;/span&gt; fingernails so fingernail clippers must be kept at least 6 feet above ground level. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Oh, and have I mentioned that Theo figured out how to strike and light matches?&lt;br /&gt;The good news is that Matt has a job where he will be gone almost all summer and I will have a nervous breakdown and be institutionalized before my next birthday and will no longer have to clean up after Theo. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;P.S. I'll spare you all the things I should be hiding from Theo for his good (sweet tooth, addiction to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;perezhilton&lt;/span&gt;.com, etc...)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;P.P.S. If you really want the good stuff, we should reveal what we hide from our husbands!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-9097472541693737019?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/9097472541693737019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=9097472541693737019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/9097472541693737019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/9097472541693737019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/ffa-8.html' title='FFA #8'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SCSDy5Vy4LI/AAAAAAAAABI/1pH5HVFlK9o/s72-c/015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291109376389316360.post-5159571229739459097</id><published>2008-05-06T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T21:07:16.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to my world...</title><content type='html'>If you are here then you already know all you need to know about me, probably more than you want to. So, we're going to head straight into my Tuesday Musings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It has been said by many that there are specific and profound moments/decisions in your life that change you. They leave deep and indelible impressions and you are never the same again, whether for better or worse. Write about one of these moments in your life, how it changed you, and whether you consider yourself a better or worse person for it.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This one was very hard for me, I'll be honest. I've racked my brain and I can't think of any time in my life that I've had a deep and indelible impression that my life has just changed. I have a laundry list of forehead smacking, four letter word moments after my decisions have changed my life for the worst but I'll spare you. I'm just not that quick on the draw. It take me quite a while to figure things out, good and bad. In come cases it has taken my years to realize I've made a good decision. Of course, my good decisions are usually spaced out over years so it gives me lots of time to think about them. This is not to say that these moments didn't exist, surviving my childhood, going on a mission, getting married, having children, all of these things have changed my life profoundly. I just deal with changes like the gentle waves of low tide, they don't hit me like tsunamis. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The closest thing to a indelible impression I can think of are the moments I saw Theo and Luc for the first time. I had already cried many times about the fact that my life was changing forever before either of them exited my womb. However, the moment I saw them I fell madly in love with each one. Of course, the fact that I tend to produce the cutest babies in the world doesn't hurt. When Theo was born I really wasn't prepared for that moment and when I was pregnant with Luc looking forward to that moment was the only thing that got me through some days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So there you have it. Those are two of the most profound moments of my life. Its kinda funny if you think about it. For two of the most profound moments of my life I was laying there sweaty and stinky while near strangers tried to fix the gash they just sliced in me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SCEqwIVvOhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1GW2Ig3mAMU/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197482451323009554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SCEqwIVvOhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1GW2Ig3mAMU/s320/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2291109376389316360-5159571229739459097?l=clairesbabblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5159571229739459097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2291109376389316360&amp;postID=5159571229739459097' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/5159571229739459097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2291109376389316360/posts/default/5159571229739459097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://clairesbabblings.blogspot.com/2008/05/welcome-to-my-world.html' title='Welcome to my world...'/><author><name>claire</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01742163789278362758</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SWKAgwrp8aI/AAAAAAAAA68/ugwWpb9BwjY/S220/Crazy_Cat_Lady.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_IZqT3jekzUQ/SCEqwIVvOhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/1GW2Ig3mAMU/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
