<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920</id><updated>2010-01-06T21:06:19.517-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jenn's Doings</title><subtitle type='html'>An amusing attempt to practice my over active imagination.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>750</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-1220548250651525780</id><published>2010-01-06T20:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T21:06:19.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Islands in the stream, that is what we are...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/S0VrLv2svFI/AAAAAAAACQI/f7Pvr0vrt9w/s1600-h/cozumel-mexico.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/S0VrLv2svFI/AAAAAAAACQI/f7Pvr0vrt9w/s200/cozumel-mexico.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423859175806254162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh god, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;how'd&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NiwcOaaRo1Y"&gt;Dolly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Parton&lt;/span&gt; and Kenny Rogers&lt;/a&gt; get in my head?  I'm in deep &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;doo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;doo&lt;/span&gt; if they're song is stuck. For the record, if you clicked on the link, you'll notice it's Kenny Rogers before all the plastic surgery. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am ready to be on vacation. And by "ready" I mean, packed, camera tuned up and all batteries charged, computer ready to be stuck in a bag, ice box cleaned out, cat sitters arranged, neighbor told I'm leaving, keys ready for cat sitters, enough cat food for the beast, vacation plan done at work to hand off stuff, and passport in my pocket...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd say I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; need this vacation, but I wonder how much of a vacation this is really going to be.  I mean my entire family - all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sibs&lt;/span&gt; and their significant others will be on this trip.  I really am not 100% sure this will be relaxing...Fun? Definitely. Exhausting? Certainly.  Full of lifetime memories? Absolutely!  But relaxing? Doubtful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its hard for me to actually relax on vacation.  Especially if I'm going some place new.  I have this unexplained phobia that I'll miss something important and so therefore can't sit and rest because I'm sure I'm missing that important thing.  I thought as I got older this would fade, but it doesn't appear to be doing that...yet. Maybe I'm not "old" enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Oooo&lt;/span&gt;...gotta get cash!  Making a mental note now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We head out bright and early on Saturday morning. Our flight leaves Seattle at 6am!  Yes, you read that correctly, 6 AM ... in the morning...which means we have to be at the airport in the middle of what I still consider night.  Blueberry, lucky her, is taking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;BigBro&lt;/span&gt;, Seattle &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;SIL&lt;/span&gt; and I to the airport.  She owes me, and I'm calling in the favor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention I'm ready to be on vacation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't worry, you won't have to go without your daily dose of Jenn, I'm bringing the laptop so I (and the Mom Unit) can blog.  I'll try to post photos, but am not sure of the bandwidth...we shall see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-1220548250651525780?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/1220548250651525780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=1220548250651525780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/1220548250651525780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/1220548250651525780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2010/01/islands-in-stream-that-is-what-we-are.html' title='Islands in the stream, that is what we are...'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/S0VrLv2svFI/AAAAAAAACQI/f7Pvr0vrt9w/s72-c/cozumel-mexico.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-8588693868298365241</id><published>2010-01-03T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T20:56:08.455-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm accustomed to a smooth ride</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;...I have the song Obvious Child by Paul Simon stuck in the noggin.  I decided to look up the lyrics because there's a portion of the song I just mumble because I had no idea what he was saying.  And now that I've read the lyrics, I have no idea what he's saying. Weird lyrics.  I love it when songs are deeper than me.  Makes me feel, well accustomed to a smooth ride. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This smooth ride is about to end though. Tomorrow is "Back To Work" day. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blech&lt;/span&gt;!  I've been off work - sorta - since the 24&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of December and I'm getting used to this "free time".  Now I just need to figure a way to have this "free time" and get paid.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so I decided today I'm going to start to play the lottery.  Why not?  $1 a week - if I remember to buy a ticket...I'm feeling lucky.  And if all of you send your luck this way I'm sure it will pay off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hold please while I blow my nose....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, where was I? Oh yes, luck.  A small side of me is nervous asking for you to send luck to me because it could just as easy be bad luck as it could be good luck and since I'm about to get on a big boat...I can't risk running into an iceberg, so never mind on the luck wishes. Keep them yourself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously. Keep them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been blessed - or lucky - to have come down with a small cold. Perfect timing really.  I mean why not now? I suppose it could have waited until next week...which would have sucked tremendously.  So, I'll sniffle my way through the week. It's holding with just a stuffed nose now, and am hoping it stays there.  I bought myself some Airborne though figuring it wouldn't be a bad idea to start hopping up the immune system.  I mean I'm about to get on board a ship that if it doesn't hit an iceberg, does have a disease on it...what's that cruise ship disease?  Not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SARS&lt;/span&gt;...what is it?  Um... ?  Well whatever it is, I figure if you isolate hundreds of people on a boat, and one of them has a virus...it'll get passed.  And so I've got my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;purell&lt;/span&gt;, my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;airborn&lt;/span&gt; and my germ phobia all packed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just have to get through 5 days of work...ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-8588693868298365241?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/8588693868298365241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=8588693868298365241&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/8588693868298365241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/8588693868298365241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-accustomed-to-smooth-ride.html' title='I&apos;m accustomed to a smooth ride'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-5888038611306172875</id><published>2010-01-01T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T09:47:34.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, hello Two thousand and ten...please be kind...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Sz406kM-a_I/AAAAAAAACQA/F41_tYyqZEc/s1600-h/2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421829182155811826" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Sz406kM-a_I/AAAAAAAACQA/F41_tYyqZEc/s320/2010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Sz4xSqS9vMI/AAAAAAAACP4/FOYfJaIpl5I/s1600-h/2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;As I sit here watching the Tournament of Rose's parade I can't but feel a bit moody. (to be honest, I got all teary-eyed when Ohio State marching band went by - don't ask. Oddly enough I did not cry when the Oregon Ducks - &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;blech&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - went by. I mean their uniforms did almost make me throw up...) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;Right, where was I? Oh yes, the year that was. &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;It wasn't a horrible year. But it wasn't a good year either. In fact, I know more people who are quicker to bid it farewell than to be sad to see it go. Why is that? How is it that so many people could have had such a crap year? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;As I sit here in my new pink &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sunggie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (Blueberry got me one for Christmas which we celebrated last night) my mind quickly drifts to the bad of 2009 - and there was a lot. But then I forced my mind on the good, and found that when you really look, there are quite a few good. Sure, some of the bad, was - well - bad BAD, but we made it through. That is good. We prevailed. And I always will. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;How do I know that? (OH &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;geeze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...here come the tears) because I have the greatest network of friends and family! There is nothing I can't get through and there is nothing our family can't get through because we have each other. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;So let's wave goodbye to 2009, and welcome 2010 knowing we greet it with an army of courage. Bring it on!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;And just what is my plan for 2010? Well, I have a small list. Just 10 things because well, it's the last two numbers in the year, so why not 10 things. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;1. Monthly Photography - I'm going to do my best to get the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PhotoGods&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; back together in 2010. I miss getting out and taking some shots and learning a little about photography. We've already discussed it and while January will not work for me (I'll be on a cruise) we'll start in February. So hold on for some kick ass shots in 2010. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;2. Photography / Cake decorating / &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Photoshop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; class - I think I want to take some type of class. I can't decide &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;which&lt;/span&gt; of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;afore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;mentioned would be more fun, but which to take? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;3. Bake more - specifically bread. I know, right? Bread? Why would you want to bake bread if you can just buy it? See, I am not a baker. No patience for it. But for some ungodly known reason I think I want to become the family cinnamon roll maker. My &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Gma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wraspir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; used to make some &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;kickass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; cinnamon rolls and I miss them. I wish I would have learned from the Goddess of Cinnamon Rolls, but alas I did not. So now I have to suffer through it myself. My &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;GalPal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Claudia suggested I start with pizza dough - and oh by the way she'll help me taste test...in fact, she got me a pizza cookbook for my birthday - she's sneaky that one. So stayed tuned. We'll see how far I get with bread...but I swear to try. Any advice?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;4. Visit &lt;a href="http://www.smithtower.com/"&gt;Smith Tower &lt;/a&gt;- What is Smith Tower you ask? It s a Seattle historic landmark. It's got an observation deck with a unique view of Seattle. It is one of the first skyscrapers in the world and stands only 540ft, so it's not tall, but it's history. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;5. Walk the docks by &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;UW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - I don't really know what else to call these, and I don't know how to get there (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BigBro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; can help I'm sure), but out on Lake Washington by the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;UofW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; are several walking docks, etc. They go way out into the water and are all connected somehow. I drive by them every time I pass them on the 520 bridge and think I have to do the right thing and take a stroll on them. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;6. &lt;a href="http://www.wenatcheevalley.org/directory/winery_tours_tastings.html"&gt;Wine Tasting in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wenatchee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;- You may not know if you're not from around here, but Washington has some great wine country. There are several wineries in the area and only a couple hours drive away. Why not spend a weekend?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;7. &lt;a href="http://www.museumofglass.org/"&gt;Museum of Glass &lt;/a&gt;- I've mentioned this before as it was going to be part of my list of 40. I didn't make it last year. But I will this year. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;8. Visit &lt;a href="http://www.leavenworth.org/modules/pages/index.php?pageid=1"&gt;Leavenworth &lt;/a&gt;- Leavenworth is this little village in the mountains here. It's a winter wonderland in the winter, and gorgeous during the spring and summer. Recently Amtrak has added Leavenworth to its schedule. How fun to just hop on the train, no worrying about driving/parking etc. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;9. Monthly &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Scrapbooking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - I gotta get caught up. Specifically heritage photos. I have hundreds of heritage photos that are screaming to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;scrapbooked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;...I've had them for years. It's time to get the family history down on paper. Not to mention almost all of 2008 needs to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;scrapbooked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I started yesterday by doing my 40&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and 39&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; birthday parties (see how far behind I am) and made the goal of doing 4 pages a month. That's ONLY 2 - 2 page layouts, which I do all the time. That can't be that hard. I wonder if I can get ALL Caught up and not have anything to scrapbook by end of 2010...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;? That would be huge...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;10. This one I can't blog about. And one I'm not 100% sure will come to fruition. It depends on a lot of other forces coming together - or not coming together. So I'm leaving this one as possibly open for something else. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Georgia','serif';"&gt;And with that, I'm going to get back under the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Snuggie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (BTW Blueberry did an "As Seen on TV" Christmas for me...though she doesn't know it - I asked for a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Snuggie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the Perfect Brownie Pan, and a Grill Daddy - well she didn't actually get this one, but got me a gift card to go get it) and I'm going to finish watching the parade and then maybe, just maybe go for a little walk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&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/17776920-5888038611306172875?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/5888038611306172875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=5888038611306172875&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/5888038611306172875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/5888038611306172875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2010/01/well-hello-two-thousand-and-tenplease.html' title='Well, hello Two thousand and ten...please be kind...'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Sz406kM-a_I/AAAAAAAACQA/F41_tYyqZEc/s72-c/2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-5269259808593870442</id><published>2009-12-30T10:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T11:10:18.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My 80's Band name would have been "A Flock of Flamingos"</title><content type='html'>Well another birthday has past. And again, I feel blessed to have such wonderful friends. Thanks to everyone who stopped by last night...much wine was drunk, much food was eaten, and we discovered the name of my 80's band...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year's theme: Pink-A-Licious. Which, by the way, only came about because when I asked the helper at the local party store if she had any pink birthday plates, she took me to their new display of "Pink-A-Licious".  It was fate. I had to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szuh-POvh-I/AAAAAAAACPA/MLv0uBbAtWw/s1600-h/JW002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szuh-POvh-I/AAAAAAAACPA/MLv0uBbAtWw/s400/JW002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421104667082852322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pink-A-Licious entrance to Chez Jenn's.  The joke all night was whether you could come in and shut the door without getting the pink strings caught in the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szuh9_0EwbI/AAAAAAAACO4/1X-ccSagbks/s1600-h/JW001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szuh9_0EwbI/AAAAAAAACO4/1X-ccSagbks/s400/JW001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421104662944465330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My long time friend Julie. She actually signed my letter of employment into GeekSoft way back when - 1993....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhkhBg1LI/AAAAAAAACOw/8YsHCNaFAHY/s1600-h/JW016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhkhBg1LI/AAAAAAAACOw/8YsHCNaFAHY/s400/JW016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421104225182602418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We all know this character: Blueberry was, of course, there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhkMFREzI/AAAAAAAACOo/P2Gbw4PcQHU/s1600-h/JW015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhkMFREzI/AAAAAAAACOo/P2Gbw4PcQHU/s400/JW015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421104219561202482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My pal Mega-roonie.  She and I go back to the days at the Cat Shack. She's all grown up now and doing quite well as a big wig HR person...she would disagree in the "big wig" part.   Mega-roonie brought me this little glass indicators that were little suction people. If you look close you'll see I have several on my glass.  The quote of the night: "Just lick him".  See they kept falling off and every time they did, someone would say, "Just lick him".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhjryQjsI/AAAAAAAACOg/ZYbEWXKuggA/s1600-h/JW014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhjryQjsI/AAAAAAAACOg/ZYbEWXKuggA/s400/JW014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421104210891542210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Chickenlady!  One of my favoritest people. Friends with her thanks to a car accident way back when in 2000.  Holy Cow...we've been friends for almost 10 years. Here's to another 10!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhUmEu92I/AAAAAAAACOY/TJhz13Uh1yA/s1600-h/JW007a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhUmEu92I/AAAAAAAACOY/TJhz13Uh1yA/s400/JW007a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421103951660382050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Claudia is responsible for the Flock of Flamingos.  Her and Blueberry were whispering one night after they left my place, and me thinks this might have been what they were whispering.  Still, the Flock of Flamingo candle holders were a smashing success to me and now Claudia gets left-overs for life.  Once I start cooking again that is.  Although, she did have a thought last night. She suggested I just cook and put them in the freezer for her.  I just might have to now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhUPS7UOI/AAAAAAAACOQ/KyaiEAIJgXk/s1600-h/JW006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhUPS7UOI/AAAAAAAACOQ/KyaiEAIJgXk/s400/JW006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421103945545896162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;PhotoGirl and the Yank both made it.  Brought a fantastic bottle of wine I hear.  I was too busy drinking my Barbera...nummers.  The Yank became the photographer most the night.  I needed someone I could trust to take photos to document what I may or may not remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhTuCf9UI/AAAAAAAACOI/K2ZDLM8KQ4U/s1600-h/JW005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhTuCf9UI/AAAAAAAACOI/K2ZDLM8KQ4U/s400/JW005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421103936618624322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh, lifetime Geeksoft friends Kim (on the left) and Julie (previously mentioned).  Kim's a riot and I just love being around her. I'm going to make a goal of spending more time with her next year. My sides generally hurt after spending time with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhTRwpORI/AAAAAAAACOA/j9sJvJzEiTU/s1600-h/JW004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzuhTRwpORI/AAAAAAAACOA/j9sJvJzEiTU/s400/JW004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421103929027541266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ahhh, Mr. Volleyball.  Just look what he did!  He carved my name out of rice krispie treats...I'm so blessed. The rice krispie treat story goes way back - and so its a standard now.  Thank heavens he spelled my name right though, how embarrassing if he hadn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szug7M9Bu2I/AAAAAAAACNo/6-XeWvDUkes/s1600-h/JW003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szug7M9Bu2I/AAAAAAAACNo/6-XeWvDUkes/s400/JW003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421103515420441442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Flock of Flamingos. (Thanks to the Yank for this photo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szug6qgGjWI/AAAAAAAACNg/K8avCBFZRCE/s1600-h/JW009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szug6qgGjWI/AAAAAAAACNg/K8avCBFZRCE/s400/JW009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421103506172317026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me being wine induced - or natural - depending on how you look at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szug6QmEU1I/AAAAAAAACNY/rs5LHNTtets/s1600-h/JW011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szug6QmEU1I/AAAAAAAACNY/rs5LHNTtets/s400/JW011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421103499218015058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Part of the gang:  PhotoGirl, Blueberry, Mr. Volleyball, the Birthday Girl, The Not-So-Newlywed and Jack the baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szug5x9oIjI/AAAAAAAACNQ/eIqx4rwhmug/s1600-h/JW013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szug5x9oIjI/AAAAAAAACNQ/eIqx4rwhmug/s400/JW013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421103490995331634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end there were several others there who I did not get pictures with...fooey!  BigBro and Seattle SIL were there, Mrs. Geek from work was there, and Queen PopUp and her king were all there and managed to escape a photo op with me.  I'll get you...just wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who didn't make it, you're forgiven.  I still love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously though, thanks to everyone. I needed a good fun party and you all stepped up to make it just that.  There's enough wine left over for a few other parties...so I'll see you all sometime in the new year...dinner at Chez Jenn's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-5269259808593870442?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/5269259808593870442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=5269259808593870442&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/5269259808593870442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/5269259808593870442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-80s-band-name-would-have-been-flock.html' title='My 80&apos;s Band name would have been &quot;A Flock of Flamingos&quot;'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Szuh-POvh-I/AAAAAAAACPA/MLv0uBbAtWw/s72-c/JW002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-6587219605159690227</id><published>2009-12-29T14:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T14:41:04.294-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its my birfff-day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzqFE5JEMdI/AAAAAAAACNI/bl-6tzYu93I/s1600-h/birthday.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420791420598628818" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzqFE5JEMdI/AAAAAAAACNI/bl-6tzYu93I/s200/birthday.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes mam, I am now 41. Wow. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;How'd&lt;/span&gt; that happen? I'm excited though, I feel pretty darn good for being "in my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;forty's&lt;/span&gt;". And &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;after all&lt;/span&gt; life begins in your &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;forty's&lt;/span&gt; right? As Patron Saint told me today 41 is a prime number and therefore I'm in my prime. I'd better make the most of it. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're going to start the celebration off with appetizers and wine tasting at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Chez&lt;/span&gt; Jenn's. Several friends are coming over tonight for the great celebration. It should be a blast. I've got homemade olive &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tapenade&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;teriyaki&lt;/span&gt; meatballs, pistachio cheese log (minus some of the pistachios - we had a small kitchen mishap in which I dumped most the chopped nuts on the floor...Me good.), shrimp/cream cheese spread and of course wine. Lots of wine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other exciting news, I selected my cruise excursions last night.  Not too surprising almost all of them are visiting &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mayan&lt;/span&gt; ruins.  And I managed to stay under my budget!  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;WooHoo&lt;/span&gt;! That just means extra $$ for drinks on the cruise ship.  That cruise ship that is going to leave in T-minus 10 days.  Not that I'm counting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I have some birff-day candles to blow out....&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/17776920-6587219605159690227?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/6587219605159690227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=6587219605159690227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/6587219605159690227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/6587219605159690227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-my-birfff-day.html' title='Its my birfff-day...'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzqFE5JEMdI/AAAAAAAACNI/bl-6tzYu93I/s72-c/birthday.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-841368994814368946</id><published>2009-12-25T12:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T13:01:34.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Christmas to all....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt; Christmas day.  Filled with so many glorious memories. This Christmas is odd for me in that I'm not with my parents.  We choose to not fly down to Tucson because we'll be seeing each other in January for our cruise. Not to mention the finance of flying during Christmas.  If I could have found a cheap ticket, I may have surprised them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I find myself thinking of Christmas' past.  And trying to recall fond memories.  I have a few, quite a few actually. Even when the $ was tight, us kids always had a Christmas to remember. We may not have received &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the &lt;/span&gt;gift of the year, but we always got gifts filled with love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One memory that leaped out to me this year was that of my Grandma Miller.  She had a unique gift wrapping skill. She used foil papers and decorated our gifts with what we loved.  The photo below is of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Gma&lt;/span&gt; Miller and some of her gifts.  The frog gift was for my Aunt Toad (no that wasn't her real name, but she collected Frogs).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUlU4fCGuI/AAAAAAAACMQ/QCXai57g6UA/s1600-h/scan0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUlU4fCGuI/AAAAAAAACMQ/QCXai57g6UA/s400/scan0002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419278767300418274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This photo below is one of my favorites. We're in Trenton, NJ - I must be about 3 or 4.  Like my hair &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;doo&lt;/span&gt;...? I know, right? Hot.  I don't remember what I got that Christmas.  I'm sure it was great and I'm sure I played with it, and/or the box it came in, for hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUmqiMLdHI/AAAAAAAACMw/W204yc9eznQ/s1600-h/scan0005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 284px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUmqiMLdHI/AAAAAAAACMw/W204yc9eznQ/s400/scan0005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419280238784509042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the Santa photos. I only have 2 that I'm aware of. The first is in New Jersey in 1071 and the second in Albuquerque in 1972.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUmqNocOBI/AAAAAAAACMg/nEAghB2bwj4/s1600-h/scan0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 331px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUmqNocOBI/AAAAAAAACMg/nEAghB2bwj4/s400/scan0003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419280233265903634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUmqZEM1-I/AAAAAAAACMo/U7HxoOB2dW0/s1600-h/scan0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUmqZEM1-I/AAAAAAAACMo/U7HxoOB2dW0/s400/scan0004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419280236335126498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last, the sister's photo in front of the tree.  I never realized how 70's our trees were in the 70's. The first in Minot, ND (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;BRRRR&lt;/span&gt;) and the second in Great Falls, MT in 1977. Just look how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;stylin&lt;/span&gt;' my sister and I are...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUmq3WO4bI/AAAAAAAACM4/XeSnw555pcI/s1600-h/scan0006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 382px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUmq3WO4bI/AAAAAAAACM4/XeSnw555pcI/s400/scan0006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419280244463821234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I find myself thankful for each and every Christmas. The one's filled with family and the one's spent without.  Its hard to remember, with all the hustle and bustle around this time of year, that it is a time of year for love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-841368994814368946?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/841368994814368946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=841368994814368946&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/841368994814368946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/841368994814368946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-christmas-to-all.html' title='Happy Christmas to all....'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzUlU4fCGuI/AAAAAAAACMQ/QCXai57g6UA/s72-c/scan0002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-6966543966053179980</id><published>2009-12-22T17:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T17:42:33.869-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Boyfriend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;It’s no secret to anyone that I’m a coffee fan.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I can’t prove it but at one point in time Starbuck’s ran through my veins.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Starbuck’s has been my BF for years.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Until now.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A new BF has blown into town and pushed Bucky’s to the side. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I’ve been stalking this BF for a couple of months and only recently found my confidence to see him up close.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It didn’t take long. It was love at first sight.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I had to bring him back to my home.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;Once back home he fit in quite well.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And now, I don’t think I can live without him.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Meet my new BF. &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 312px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418240674977723314" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzF1L9Oes7I/AAAAAAAACLw/dikt8R2GyWA/s400/keurig.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;Now some would say I’m a coffee snob and so would also be surprised at this new relationship.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;But I gotta tell ya, I was blown away by the quickness and precision of the coffee maker. One perfect cup of coffee in less than 15 seconds. WOW! Not only was it quick, but a quality cup of coffee (Disclaimer: I believe it has everything to do with the fact I purchased the Tully’s Kona coffee cuppettes as my coffee for my BF to make.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And “cuppettes” is my term, not theirs). &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;And as a former Bucky’s &lt;s&gt;addict&lt;/s&gt; fan, it surprises me just a little that I now prefer to make my own coffee at home.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I’m now addicted to a new way to get a cuppa Joe.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;In other non coffee news, my belly button is leaking.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I don’t think my BB will ever heal.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Ever.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Apparently, the stitch that was inside has decided to go rebel and get all infected.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Now, lucky me gets to wash it three times a day, antibiotic cream and I get to take antibiotics.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I’m so luck!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I was also scolded by my doc about not recognizing that I am not yet healed.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She told me that 3 months, minimum to heal and I just need to get that through my “thick” head. Me? Thick head? Hah! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-ansi-language: EN" lang="EN"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;One more “working” day this year.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Our office shuts down the last week of the month and so as of tomorrow at 3pm I’m supposedly on vacation.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Although, lucky me, (again with the luck? How’d I get so luck?) own a program that doesn’t shut down and will have to “work” occasionally.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Not real thrilled about that.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In fact, find myself getting somewhat bitter over it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;But it is what it is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-6966543966053179980?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/6966543966053179980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=6966543966053179980&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/6966543966053179980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/6966543966053179980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-new-boyfriend.html' title='My New Boyfriend'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SzF1L9Oes7I/AAAAAAAACLw/dikt8R2GyWA/s72-c/keurig.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-2487728673236939859</id><published>2009-12-19T14:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T15:00:08.328-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes, how do you measure, measure a year?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Normally I'd measure my year by the number of coffees I have taken in, yet this year it doesn't seem appropriate considering I'm not doing coffee now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Side Note: I did have a really, REALLY bad day at work yesterday so took off at/around lunch time. Not being hungry I went to my other safe haven, Starbucks. I ordered my normal Grande Vanilla Americano with xtra room. Added my cream and sugar. And about 30 minutes later I was the speediest of typists. I'm thinking perhaps jumping back into a triple wasn't such a good choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Right, back to measuring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could measure it by the number of people I did not kill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or I could measure it by the amount of love and support I felt throughout the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or even still I could measure it by how often the local weather forecasters are wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nah. I think I'll measure it by a LIST OF 40 NEW THINGS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my faithful readers, the list is complete. (if you get my Christmas card you are 1) very lucky and 2) already know the list). Still there are others who really are dying to know what's on that list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So without any more goofing around...drum roll please...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 2009 List of 40 New Things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First let me say that if you don't 1)like, 2) think its not new, or 3) have any other negative opinions about my 40 new things, I'm returning your Christmas gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahem &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; mso-bidi-: minor-bidifont-family:'Times New Roman';" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;Starbuck’s Instant Coffee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; – anyone who knows me knows Starbuck’s runs through my veins - or well it did. Instant Starbucks! My life had been changed forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bosses for dinner&lt;/b&gt; – having people to dinner isn’t anything new. But having my boss and my bosses’ boss to dinner was new to me. I BBQ'd and ran out of gas...thank heavens they like their meat rare. &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podiatrist&lt;/b&gt; – What? There was never a need before. And I can't say it was all that helpful cuz - *clears throat* someone didn't follow all the doctor's orders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Photograph a 5K Run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; – PhotoGirl asked me to assist in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/06/hello-my-kittens.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#0000ff;"&gt;photographing a 5K run &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;at a turnaround point with Seattle in the back ground. It was a blast. Tiring holding up the camera for so long, but fun all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;G&lt;span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold"&gt;rease the Musical&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Grease is the word!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Roller Derby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – A whole different crowd to watch and a whole new sport to learn and appreciate. I think I should have been a &lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/04/omg-i-totally-missed-my-calling.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;roller derby girl &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;in another life. I think I actually came up with a roller derby girl name too...Jenicide I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Photograph Susan G. Komen Gala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – &lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/03/springing-ahead-is-for-birds.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;Fancy pants gala event &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;in which I was asked to photograph the SGK volunteers. Had to "search" for a formal and then remembered by I didn't like formals...itchy, uncomfortable, and too much work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Moved to a townhouse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Moving isn’t new – I mean if you know me, you know moving isn’t new. But moving to a town house is. And having three floors of goodness is new. That's three whole floors full of cat fur. Yes mam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Read 100 books&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – I didn’t manage to read 100, but 73 instead. Still I’ve never read 73 books in a year. So it counts. And I got turned onto a very cool site called &lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;GoodReads&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. It allows you to track the books you've read and want to read. I have 272 in my "want to read" queue. And no I won't be trying to read 100 next year. Maybe I'll shoot for the remaining 27 (did I do my math right? 100-73 = 27 right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Volunteer at Getting Started Meetings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – After participating in the 3Day last year, I knew I wanted to volunteer this year. So I started by helping at the Getting Started Meetings. It was a blast and yes I cried every single meeting thanks to the overly moving video. Yes, I'm going to volunteer again this year. That should be interesting. I'll break out blubbering at the opening music...watch, you'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Pampered Chef Party&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Also no “new” but I hadn’t had a party in 10 years, therefore, new. Anything you haven't done in 10 years and re-do is new. Jenn's Law #45. What? You don't believe me. Well, Jenn's law #46 says, Jenn does not have to care if you believe her or not, so there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;3Day Expo Volunteer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Again, my chance to participate in the 3Day without walking. But being allowed to hang with some extraordinary men and women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Photograph Race for the Cure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – I got to wander around the R4TC and take photos of the volunteers. They give so much and I was so thrilled to be a part of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;i&lt;span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold"&gt;l Divo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Wow. And Yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Dueling Pianos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – It is what it sounds like. Two pianos going back and forth - well &lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-think-i-found-perfect-man-for-me.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;dueling &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;- playing and singing. The bar was sketchy, but the company was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Seattle Duck Tours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – &lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-think-i-found-perfect-man-for-me.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;Goofy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;? Definitely. Worth it? Most certainly! I mean I met my soul mate on the duck tour...the driver playing really bad 80's songs - surely my soul mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Black Bottle Restaurant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – What? I have never been there. And for the record for all you Seattle folks...Yum. If you go, get the &lt;a href="http://blackbottleseattle.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;Blast Broccoli&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. ZOMG sooo good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Photograph a Wedding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Nerve wracking! But worth it to learn more about photographing people. Not sure I'd ever do it again, maybe drunk I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Volunteer for Survivor Brunch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – For once I actually &lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/09/heres-riddle-for-you-find-answer-theres.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;volunteered &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;instead of photographing the volunteers. And I won, I mean Blueberry won, a free cruise on Holland America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Try 100 new recipes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Again, didn’t get to 100, but got to 67 – and I’ve never tried 67 new recipes in a year. A few friends appreciated the endeavor. One friend concerned that I'm not eating and therefore not cooking and therefore she doesn't get left overs. She'll survive....maybe.&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;Almost all are on my &lt;a href="http://cookingwithjennw.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;cooking blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Go ahead, take a look. I'll wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Carve a white pumpkin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – I didn’t even know there were &lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/10/great-pumpkin-carvingpart-viii.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;white pumpkins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, but I carved one for my Great Pumpkin Carving Party. It had white guts even.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;H&lt;span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold"&gt;ave an Ultra Sound&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Yep. I had to have an ultrasound. It’s not what you think.&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Had a Hysteroscopy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – yah, ick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Visited an OBGYN Oncologist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – there was concern of some pre-cancerous cells found during the hysteroscopy. Had to go to an oncologist for my options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Had a Hysterectomy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – this was my option. A robotic laparoscopic hysterectomy. But you know all about that. BTW, the &lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/today-is-brought-you-by-number-two.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;belly button incision &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;is almost all closed. Thanks for asking. The stitch that was still in it fell out. I thought I lost my umbilical chord again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Took Percocet&lt;/b&gt; – in the hospital they gave me Percocet as the pain killer. Weeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Had a catheter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – 'nough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Estrogen Patch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – well taking out the girly parts means I needed something to help “&lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/misty-eyed-moron.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;balance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;” me out. Notice I didn't say make me normal? Yah I know the peanut gallery pretty well and they'd contest that in a heartbeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Giving myself injections&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – because of blood clot issues in the past, and now being on estrogen, the doctor thought &lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/21.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;giving myself injections &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;of a blood thinner for 21 days post surgery would be a great idea. I hated it. Nightly tried to talk myself out of it. And yet, 21 nights in a row, I managed to put a needle in my tummy. It's amazing what you can do when you have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Hot Flashes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Oh yah, these are fun. Even being on the estrogen patches, it’s a low dose and so some of the menopause side effects will come through. My own Personal Summers is one…and I cry at the drop of a hat. Wheeeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Program Manager&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – I was &lt;s&gt;promoted&lt;/s&gt; shoved into being a Program Manager. Its hard work, and a bit discouraging at times, but its fun and new and I’m learning a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Lead a Quarterly Business Review&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Being the Prgm Mgr I was the &lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/10/along-with-sunshine-theres-gonna-be.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;lead on the business review&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; for the first quarter. Lots of hard work, and a bit unnerving, but I put on my ubber confidence pants and prevailed. Didn't even get yelled at. So that's a plus, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Straight No Chasers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – If you want to hear a 10 man acapella group, search for these guys on YouTube and sit back and be amazed.&lt;b&gt;Go to &lt;a href="http://www.seattlesymphony.org/benaroya/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;Benaroya Hall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.seattlesymphony.org/symphony/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;– Straight No Chaser performed in a local theater I’ve never been in. It has a huge Chihuly glass &lt;a href="http://www.chihuly.com/installations/benaroya/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;chandeler above the stairs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (look to the right of the picture)...I wish I would have brought my camera...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Super Diamond&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Whoa! Went and saw a &lt;a href="http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-if-youll-pardon-me-id-like-to-say.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;Neil Diamond tribute band&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I had no idea what songs Neil Diamond did that I knew. Of course Dudley opened for them, which was the &lt;i&gt;real &lt;/i&gt;reason I went.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Saw New Moon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – What? I’m a Twilight fan. Go Team Jacob!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Bought and iPod Car Stereo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – Love it. I get to skip past songs quickly. In my 4 mile commute I can listen to 30 songs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;Cracked Windshield&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt; – yes the Mustang has a boo boo. But in all my life, with all the cars I’ve owned, I’ve never had a cracked windshield. Honest! And this one apparently I'll have for a while. Every time I go to replace it, some financial catastrophe happens and it has to wait another month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;No one’s every asked me if I’d eat a triscuit off the floor – my office mate was helping me come up with one more. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;And in fact I've never ever been asked that. Who knew this list could produce such wild abandonment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;And the 40th New Thing: Never before (and never again) have a made a list of 40 new things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';color:black;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';font-size:85%;"&gt;The other thing I love to do this time of year is re-read my blog posts for the year. I don't read them all, but I skim through them and I gotta tell you...I'm all shades of surprised you all are coming back to read. There's some weird stuff in this blog...but it's all me, and all friends, and apparently almost nothing is off limits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Verdana', 'sans-serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-2487728673236939859?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/2487728673236939859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=2487728673236939859&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/2487728673236939859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/2487728673236939859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/12/five-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-six.html' title='Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes, how do you measure, measure a year?'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-7904062451520272943</id><published>2009-12-11T17:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T17:34:09.228-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hitting the Panic Button....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SyLxXgaBzwI/AAAAAAAACLo/o4M6WZ0klFA/s1600-h/panic-button.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414155088191147778" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SyLxXgaBzwI/AAAAAAAACLo/o4M6WZ0klFA/s200/panic-button.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I hit the panic button today. I had a wee little panic attack today. I got &lt;em&gt;another&lt;/em&gt; medical bill. It won't end. And as I added it to my spreadsheet of bills, I double triple checked to make sure it wasn't a duplicate. And when I realized it wasn't my heart sank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew what I had to do.  I had to call the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;momunit&lt;/span&gt; and tell her I forfeit the $$ I've put in for the cruise, but I can't go.  The $$ I was saving for that cruise would have put a small dent into the medical bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after thinking about how the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;MomUnit&lt;/span&gt; would respond (most likely by saying "Put on your big girl pants and deal with it!) I realized the small amount I'm budgeting for the cruise really won't put a big dent into the medical bills.  At which time I decided - "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Meh&lt;/span&gt; - I need the cruise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crisis averted. Phew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was move day at work. I moved from my comfy office with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PMDude&lt;/span&gt; to back out into the new "bull pin" we've created for the program I'm supposedly managing.  Poor &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PMDude&lt;/span&gt;, he won't have anyone to bring him random 80's songs all the time.  Nor will he have someone constantly yammering on and on to her computer.  He'll be bored.  I'm concerned for his well-being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing overly exciting for this weekend. Meeting some Husky friends tomorrow night for dinner.  (Side Note: Almost cancelled the dinner too for above mentioned medical bills).  Then I'll be sitting all warm and cozy in my apt as we wait for SNOW to supposedly arrive on Sunday.  Yes, Snow.  As if the frigid cold we've been experiencing isn't enough.  Blech! Snow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-7904062451520272943?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/7904062451520272943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=7904062451520272943&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/7904062451520272943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/7904062451520272943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/12/hitting-panic-button.html' title='Hitting the Panic Button....'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SyLxXgaBzwI/AAAAAAAACLo/o4M6WZ0klFA/s72-c/panic-button.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-1541717704214563454</id><published>2009-12-09T20:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T21:18:15.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its too cold to type...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SyCEfTdxaFI/AAAAAAAACLg/0SQmIVYLzUk/s1600-h/frostIMG_1243.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 132px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413472425435293778" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SyCEfTdxaFI/AAAAAAAACLg/0SQmIVYLzUk/s200/frostIMG_1243.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its 16F outside right now and I swear to GOD I'm frozen solid. If I were to slip and fall on the pavement I'd break into a thousand pieces. We'll have temp records break tonight. The record was 21F in 1972 and tonight it'll be 17F in Seattle. I mean lakes and ponds are frozen around here...the who? the what now? Ponds don't freeze in Seattle. Hold Please. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My pond is frozen! Ice skating anyone? Oh wait, that means I'd have to go out. Never mind! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know you want one, so I'll give you a food update. 16lbs. That's what I've lost since the surgery. I'm finding that I almost have to force myself to eat something. I used to laugh at all those skinny girls who used to say, "Oh I forgot to eat." I always wondered, "Who &lt;em&gt;forgets&lt;/em&gt; to eat?" That so wasn't within my vocabulary. And now, I find I forget to eat. It's insane. I miss food. I miss eating. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a plus note, I have a bunch of new clothes I get to wear for the cruise. You know those clothes? The ones that get pushed to the back of the closet because they don't quite fit. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Yah&lt;/span&gt;, well I get to move them back to the front again. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Woohoo&lt;/span&gt;! Too bad most of them aren't sweaters or long johns. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got my Christmas cards done yesterday. Its been weird for me to not have them done by Dec 1. Still, they're done. My letter is basically the 40 New Things list (which I'll post here eventually). My little tradition is the last card I do is for my parents. The first is for my Aunt Jean so I can get it to her before hers gets to me (family race every year). I was marking my X's and O's on the letter when I saw it. A typo! Dagnabit! Oh well. You''ll survive. If you don't like it let me know and I'll drop you from the list. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll end this on a happy note. My heart grew 10X yesterday. You may have heard that we had 4 local police officers shot down two weeks ago. It's hit the area hard and the outpouring of support for the families has been overwhelming to see. One local pizza chain, Papa John's, is donating ALL the proceeds of pizzas purchased yesterday and today to the families of the slain officers. I drove by two Papa John's on my way home yesterday and was stunned at the lines. The stores are mostly delivery and are usually empty when I drive by. Yesterday, the line for one was out the door and around the store. I get all teary thinking about it. Tonight they are saying that if you didn't get to buy a pizza (they ran out of dough and what not) you can buy gift cards and they'll put that money toward the donations too. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-1541717704214563454?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/1541717704214563454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=1541717704214563454&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/1541717704214563454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/1541717704214563454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-too-cold-to-type.html' title='Its too cold to type...'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SyCEfTdxaFI/AAAAAAAACLg/0SQmIVYLzUk/s72-c/frostIMG_1243.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-1187754253241255969</id><published>2009-12-03T19:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T19:30:34.948-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8jEnTSQStGE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8jEnTSQStGE&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I couldn't resist. This is my second favorite Christmas song.  Why?  Well, why not!  It is, after all, full of 80's singers...so are you really surprised?  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;14 lbs, in a month. That's the amount of weight, officially, that I've lost.  I had my post op &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt; today.  I was an hour and half early (wrote the wrong time down apparently). Thankfully the NP took me early.  She's a delight by the way.  As she called me back, I stepped on the dreaded &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;. scale (which by the way its well known the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;. scale is 5 lbs heavier than my own scale and it has nothing to do with me "adjusting" the scale).  She looked at the number on the scale. Flipped a page in the chart. Looked at the scale, and stated, "It appears we have something to talk about today.  14 lbs in a month - not bad.  Not good, but not bad."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Turns out I'm completely normal (no comments from the Peanut Gallery).  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She had a little heart to heart to me about this whole surgery thing and said that she thinks I need to come to grips with the reality that the surgery I had wasn't "simple".  According to the inner workings of my body it was a major change.  My body is trying, as best it can, to get the balance back.  She asked me to think hard about the "loss" if you will and focus on the healing and not so much on the side issues. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The lack of appetite, fatigue, and general feeling of not wanting to do anything is part of the left over from the general anesthesia. She said in some people it could take 8 weeks to work it's way through.  IF I'm having this same issue at the end of January then I should come back in and we can discuss options. And by "options" she means anti-depressants. Which I want no part of - &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;thankyouverymuch&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I asked about the weepy-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ness&lt;/span&gt; and hot flashes too.  Apparently because I'm on such a low dose of estrogen some of the menopause side effects will still be present.  In a much smaller manner, but they will still be there.  She told me that as for the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;weepyJenn&lt;/span&gt; that I should consider a couple of things. First, my body is trying to find the balance with out the testosterone and estrogen from the ovaries. And second, it is the holiday season and sometimes we're a bit more emotional this time of year.  That's all good and fine, but I am tired of crying at the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;stinkin&lt;/span&gt; Folgers commercials.  Damn you Folgers!  Oh, and that dang &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Anhauser&lt;/span&gt; Busch commercial with the troops walking through the airport. One person starts to clap, then another and then another.  Before long &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;everyone&lt;/span&gt; is applauding the troops...oh god...make it stop!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyone want to step up and pay my medical bills?  You'd be my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BFF&lt;/span&gt;.  No? Really? &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hmph&lt;/span&gt;! Fine. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;37 more days until the cruise! Not that I'm counting or anything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-1187754253241255969?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/1187754253241255969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=1187754253241255969&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/1187754253241255969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/1187754253241255969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/12/throw-your-arms-around-world-at.html' title='Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-4078039771020182385</id><published>2009-11-28T18:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T18:23:35.239-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Will you tell the folks back home I nearly made it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;If you know the song to the lyrics in the title you 1) need help and 2) get BIG Jenn kudos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right, so I'm sitting her being depressed watching the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Crapple&lt;/span&gt; Cup. Good Lord, my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Cougs&lt;/span&gt; really need to pull their helmets out of the collective behinds. Ugh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My appetite is missing. If you've seen it can you do me a solid and send it to me? I keep expecting to see it on the back of a milk carton or something. Today at 3:45pm I realized I hadn't yet had a morsel of food. That is so unlike me. Food and I are &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BFFs&lt;/span&gt;. Its frustrating to not even want to eat. Further I don't even want to cook, or think about food, or shop for food, Ugh...I so miss my old self at times. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My new diet today has consisted of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Nutella&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Fritos&lt;/span&gt;. Nice huh? I had a handful of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Frito's&lt;/span&gt; at 3:45pm and then a spoon full of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Nutella&lt;/span&gt;. I'm not 100% sure, but I'm thinking this could be the new diet craze. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BigBro&lt;/span&gt;, Seattle &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SIL&lt;/span&gt; and I went and saw Straight No Chaser. If you ever have the chance, I highly recommend seeing them. Fantastic singers, mixed with some comedy and thrown&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; 10 attractive boys and you got yourself a winning combination. Check out their &lt;a href="http://www.sncmusic.com/"&gt;Twelve Days of Christmas on their website&lt;/a&gt;. Seattle &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SIL&lt;/span&gt; managed to get us front row seats...it was perfect. I could gaze into the eyes of so many talented men. This year they did a song called the Christmas Can Can...I almost &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pee'd&lt;/span&gt; my pants laughing at them. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7E-47VmFopE#watch-main-area"&gt;Click here to see it&lt;/a&gt;! Do it! Go back and click that &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7E-47VmFopE#watch-main-area"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409345113096213058" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SxHauG2YUkI/AAAAAAAACLY/agxZ2gyH0Gs/s400/DSCN3743a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-4078039771020182385?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/4078039771020182385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=4078039771020182385&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/4078039771020182385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/4078039771020182385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/will-you-tell-folks-back-home-i-nearly.html' title='Will you tell the folks back home I nearly made it?'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SxHauG2YUkI/AAAAAAAACLY/agxZ2gyH0Gs/s72-c/DSCN3743a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-544191346467238150</id><published>2009-11-25T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T21:51:02.015-08:00</updated><title type='text'>21</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Sw4WTlptRII/AAAAAAAACLQ/gLbesAFGUEA/s1600/IMG_6387.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Sw4WTlptRII/AAAAAAAACLQ/gLbesAFGUEA/s400/IMG_6387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408284728298914946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And I'm done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;21 nights of trying to talk myself out of giving myself shots&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;21 injections&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;21 empty syringes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;21 little purple bruises at the injection sites (looks kinda like a constellation)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;21 days of doing something I never thought I'd do&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-544191346467238150?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/544191346467238150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=544191346467238150&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/544191346467238150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/544191346467238150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/21.html' title='21'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Sw4WTlptRII/AAAAAAAACLQ/gLbesAFGUEA/s72-c/IMG_6387.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-4001574020636149105</id><published>2009-11-23T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T16:46:26.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I light my torch and wave it for the NEW MOON on Monday...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SwsssUdS8DI/AAAAAAAACLI/7hyitIE9ZHQ/s1600/teamjacob.png"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407464917505863730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SwsssUdS8DI/AAAAAAAACLI/7hyitIE9ZHQ/s200/teamjacob.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Go Team JACOB!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes that's right I went an supported Team Jacob this weekend. I went early on Saturday to avoid any screaming teeny &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;boppers&lt;/span&gt;. Blueberry and Mrs &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Braspir&lt;/span&gt; (who's name will now be Queen &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PopUp&lt;/span&gt;). I was no fan of the first movie. In fact, I hated it. Too many longing looks and no enough dialog. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Blech&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;New director for New Moon and it's an entirely different movie...well of course it's different, but you know what I mean. Loved it. I may have to walk over and see it again this weekend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of this weekend, its Turkey day in case you didn't know. A lot going on this weekend. Here's a little preview for you:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Turkey Day of course. I'm hoping the prodigal brother makes it over from Eastern &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wa&lt;/span&gt; so I can see him. I haven't seen him in about a year. Spending Turkey day with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BigBro&lt;/span&gt; and that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;fam&lt;/span&gt;. Food and Family, what could be better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Hair cut - Yes. It's time. Despite the money being short at the moment, a girl has to look like a girl. Which means getting one's hair styled correctly. Plus..well why am I trying to explain it to you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Straight No Chaser - Yes that's right. Don't be jealous. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BigBro&lt;/span&gt;, Seattle &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SIL&lt;/span&gt; and I are all going to see them. Seattle &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SIL&lt;/span&gt; found they were in town and so offered it up. I can't wait! In case you don't remember who they are...&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28GUU1YbP_E"&gt;check this out&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Apple Cup - Though this year it should be called the Toilet Bowl. Stinky. That's what our two university teams are this week. But yes, it's the University of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wa&lt;/span&gt; Huskies (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BOOO&lt;/span&gt;) vs the Washington State Cougars (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;). Someone has to win. They both stink, so who knows. The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cougs&lt;/span&gt; stink way more than the huskies...so I'm guessing they'll lose. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Christmas Photo Sunday - Usually by this time of year I already have my cards done. They are usually made by hand and my letter is usually written, printed, envelops addressed, sealed, stamped and ready to go. This year I haven't even started. I'm way behind. So I've decided to go a different route this year. One of my volleyball buds has a photo studio in his house and offers to do photos. And I'm going to take him up on this offer. The question is what to do. I have a few ideas, but I'm sure you my faithful readers have ideas. Do tell. No. There will be no &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nudey&lt;/span&gt; photos...I can't afford breaking his camera and replacing it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. My last injection! This should be listed first &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; that day is Wednesday. Yes that means I have THREE left...not that I'm counting or anything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-4001574020636149105?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/4001574020636149105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=4001574020636149105&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/4001574020636149105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/4001574020636149105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-light-my-torch-and-wave-it-for-new.html' title='I light my torch and wave it for the NEW MOON on Monday...'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SwsssUdS8DI/AAAAAAAACLI/7hyitIE9ZHQ/s72-c/teamjacob.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-4857781956784894295</id><published>2009-11-18T20:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T21:11:00.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Misty Eyed Moron...</title><content type='html'>"Who would that be?" you ask.  Me.  Unbelievable amount of tears that seem to seep out of my eyeballs these days.  Make. It. Stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This could border on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TMI&lt;/span&gt;, but if you're a reader of my blog you know that just about nothing is off limits.  So here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a very easy monthly visit from Aunt Flow. Very easy.  All my life, (well okay except in 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade when I pretended to have cramps to get out of gym class.  Only the gym teacher was also our school nurse who informed me "Exercise is good for cramps.") I had no real issues with Aunt Flow.  I was regular, light, and never a moody basket case.  Oh I had mood swings, I won't deny that. I was just never that crazy girl who went on an emotional roller coaster during those precious days each month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crying was something I left to the serious heartbreaks or losses.  And I assure you there were many heartbreaks in high school and college that brought me knee deep in salty tears.  Still, I felt I was a strong girl. And as Frankie Valli said, "Big Girls Don't Cry" (or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Fergie&lt;/span&gt; for you younger crowd...she said it too).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was rare that I cry in a movie.  I left the sniveling to Blueberry.  She used to cry when we would watch Little House on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Prairie&lt;/span&gt; re-runs in college.  After the show I'd shove the box of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Kleenex&lt;/span&gt; toward her and she'd exclaim, "Pa can always make me cry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not me. No way no how. I wasn't a crier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently by removing certain girl parts certain other parts feel the need to go into overdrive and leak tears.  Its insane.  I cry at every little thing these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Break a nail - I burst into tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stub my toe - I lose it (but it really hurt)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was watching Ellen tonight and she had a 12 year old kid from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Philippines&lt;/span&gt; who came out and sang "All By Myself"...it was beautiful...and by the end of the song...weeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch some stinking hallmark commercial about Thanksgiving and sending a loved one in the war a card  -- oh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;geeze&lt;/span&gt; here I go again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk amongst yourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sniff sniff...&lt;br /&gt;Right.  I'm composed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am no where near where others are or have been. I can't even imagine going to that place...and if fact just thinking about it makes me cry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctors told me I "could" have some menopausal side affects because the estrogen patch I'm on was such a low dose.  When the said "could" I heard "never".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, here I am getting ready for bed thinking about all the things that made me tear up a bit today (9 times, but who's counting) and suddenly I realize, my EYES ARE LEAKING AGAIN.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ARGH&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a more positive note, and a note that won't make me cry - I don't think - I have 8 shots left.  E-I-G-H-T!  But again, who's counting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is my life now.  Weepy Woman!  And the BEST part is I suspect it'll get worst when I'm in my 50's when the real menopause kicks in. Oh that will be just ducky.  Can't wait. I've got so much to look forward to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SwTS7EvFKuI/AAAAAAAACLA/EnSgaQY2eFY/s1600/menopause.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SwTS7EvFKuI/AAAAAAAACLA/EnSgaQY2eFY/s400/menopause.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405677365076765410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're still reading, stay tuned for my next blog where I discuss my own personal summers that go on too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did manage to go into the office today too. I spent 1/2 of the day getting reacquainted with all the old crew at work.  It was nice to go in and have conversations with people who actually talked back instead of look at you blankly with their black furry face.  I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;may &lt;/span&gt;have over did it.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;May &lt;/span&gt;have.  Still it felt good to get out among the living, non crying people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-4857781956784894295?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/4857781956784894295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=4857781956784894295&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/4857781956784894295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/4857781956784894295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/misty-eyed-moron.html' title='Misty Eyed Moron...'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SwTS7EvFKuI/AAAAAAAACLA/EnSgaQY2eFY/s72-c/menopause.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-8520017943251857396</id><published>2009-11-15T14:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T19:54:03.137-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never look backwards or you'll fall down the stairs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Not too long ago, I "accidentally" dropped the cat down some stairs.  It wasn't intentional - I swear. It. Was. An. Accident.  I've explained it to him.  I baby-ed him after. I would never do something like that intentional.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The cat, on the other hand, has exacted his revenge today.  I knew he had been plotting, but never really thought he'd follow through.  And yet, today he followed through with his dastardly plan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me back up a bit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I shot a wedding for the first time. Friends of the family had asked my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BigBro&lt;/span&gt; to shoot their wedding, and he asked me to be his "second".  The promise was made way back in like August and I never thought then I'd be recovering from a surgery.  Still, I managed to get dressed and off to the wedding (which, by the way was located at the edge of the world - &lt;a href="http://www.ci.enumclaw.wa.us/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Enumclaw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;).  I spent as long as I felt I could there and headed home early.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the time I got home, I was exhausted.  I needed rest.  So I slept for almost 12 hours, but the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;afore&lt;/span&gt; mentioned cat decided I had had enough sleep (me thinks he may sleep outside tonight).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been up for about 2 hours and decided to head upstairs to clean out my belly button.  (Side note: not of lint.  But rather the incision there is an open wound and requires some maintenance so it doesn't get infected. ) On my way downstairs, the big black beast of burden was "following" me.  He &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loves&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;LOVES &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;LOVES &lt;/span&gt;to run in front of you and stop. No warning, no nothing. Just a dead stop.  Normally I have my wits about me and catch his evil plot to trip me and step to the side.  Being exhausted and not fully engaged yet, I didn't notice he hadn't moved on to the next step to stop and wait.  Instead, I stepped on him.  Between his whaling and me trying not to break anything on him, I slipped and took a tumble down about 4 steps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hitting the platform my first thought was, "Bring it on. Is that all you got?" Followed by, "Dear God the pain."  The cat, meanwhile, was at the bottom of the stairs with a coy almost evil smile on his face rubbing his little paws together in triumph. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to get to my feet and thought it best to head back up stairs to survey the damage.  Sore-er now than before, but everything looks okay.  The belly button is quite sore and is "leaking" more than normal.  I may call the doctor tomorrow.  I'm such a pansy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other good news, only 11 more shots! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Woot&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Woot&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and my Check Engine light went on in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Stang&lt;/span&gt;.  Bring it!  I can take more.  Despite the cats best effort to put me down, I'm not...what else ya got?  I'm thinking the world is out to get me right now...must be karma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-8520017943251857396?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/8520017943251857396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=8520017943251857396&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/8520017943251857396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/8520017943251857396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/never-look-backwards-or-youll-fall-down.html' title='Never look backwards or you&apos;ll fall down the stairs.'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-3308328122419518257</id><published>2009-11-10T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T18:23:48.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Total naps today: zero...something's wrong here</title><content type='html'>Let it be known by all that today, November 10, be the day I almost blacked out by the number of emails in my two work accounts.  I didn't even know Outlook could hold that many emails and not implode.  I did manage to get through about 10% of them, the easy ones.  And thankfully I had Law &amp;amp; Order: &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SVU&lt;/span&gt; on all day to help me through.  Then I had Ellen and her show help me through, then Oprah, then the news...and then I realized there's really nothing on daytime TV. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shot update:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you care.  But I've now given myself 5 shots.  Five!  10 days ago I never would have imagined giving myself one.  It may not seem like too big of a deal to some, and you may be thinking, 'Enough already.' If you are, too bad - my blog my rules (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ala&lt;/span&gt; Patron Saint).  I have a mere 15 more to go, but who's counting. Last nights shot hurt like hell though. I hesitated and stuck the needle in slowly. THAT won't happen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Healing Update:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew that healing took so much energy. It saps you.  I never really had a reason to think about what the body goes through after surgery, but now that I've had time to think about it, I guess it makes sense.  I mean it was used to being a certain way and having a few extra parts, then this big claw came in and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;rearranged&lt;/span&gt; and took a few parts.  It's only answer is to take it's own sweet time healing.  I'm in the danger zone now though.  I feel good, and the pain is minimal, and I think I can do things that I know I shouldn't.   I find myself hourly "assuming" I'm well enough - then stop and ask myself if I really should be doing that. Mom would be proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Stera&lt;/span&gt;-strips Update:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good god those things stick. Which is their job, but man, do they have to take it so seriously.  My finger nail caught one in an attempt to itch the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;incision&lt;/span&gt; (itching apparently means they're healing - who knew?) and tore it a bit...I thought I was going to cry like a baby.  I did check though and all my skin still appears to be in tact.  The curious Girl in me though wants them to come off so I can actually see the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;incisions&lt;/span&gt;, though admittedly I'm not sure I wouldn't pass out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-3308328122419518257?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/3308328122419518257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=3308328122419518257&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/3308328122419518257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/3308328122419518257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/total-naps-today-zerosomethings-wrong.html' title='Total naps today: zero...something&apos;s wrong here'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-2815288037808412044</id><published>2009-11-06T20:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T20:51:52.407-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is brought you by the number two.</title><content type='html'>Two. That's the number of shots I've given myself. Can you believe it? I certainly can't. I don't even gag a little when I do it.  It doesn't hurt and by golly it's almost fun.  Okay that last part is a lie, but still I'm super proud of myself for being able to do something I never thought I'd do. It's amazing what one is capable of when one's life is on the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of life lines, thank you to EVERY single one of you who has had me in their thoughts and their prayers. I'm positive all that super charged positive energy has helped me the last couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been two days since the surgery and I'm feeling pretty good. Sore.  Very sore at times, but with a little rest and pain medication, all is good in the world.  I've not had any weird side effects from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;percocet&lt;/span&gt;, but I guess is good.  I heard so many stories I was a bit scared to even take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surgery day is a blur really. I remember getting up at O' dark what-time? and driving to NW hospital. The parental units are here taking care of me (okay so it's only mom - but who doesn't want their mommy around in times like these?).  I sailed through &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-op. Managed to stay engaged even with the check in nurse was having troubles finding a vein on one of my hands.  She put this lovely numbing stuff on so I didn't really feel anything but the pressure - which is creepy.  The doc stopped by and the last thing I remembered was someone asking if we were good to go.  Next thing I know I'm being wheeled past the waiting area and hear my last name called out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blueberry and the units met me in my room. I have a vague recollection of talking to them.  Overall I felt pretty good. I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;uber&lt;/span&gt; sore then, but then again...those dandy pain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The staff at Northwest Hospital were fantastic.  A great selection nurses and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CNAs&lt;/span&gt; who had excellent bed side manner.  I'll be writing a thank you note to them later this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was discharged, only after I passed a few gas bubbles and showed them I could potty all by myself (weird I know).  The ride home was miserable.  Didn't ever realize how many bumps were in the roads, but man there were a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slept most yesterday afternoon, and then lazed around today - managed to sneak in a 2 hour nap this afternoon in my busy schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I feel good.  The soreness grows less and less by the day - getting up out of bed or chairs isn't as painful now.  The four little open cuts I have are healing - I think. It's hard to see really with the bruising around one of them (they actually went through my belly button - sure hope they cleaned it of all the lint first).  My insides seem to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;jocky'ing&lt;/span&gt; for the new found space.  They were rearranging themselves last night. I think my liver has a new address - I'm just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sayin&lt;/span&gt;'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So again, thank you all for your support. It means the world to me.  I'm sure I'll never be able - oh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;geez&lt;/span&gt; I'm tearing up - stupid hormones - to express how much it has meant to get so many well wishes.  You're all the best!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you'll excuse me, I hear my bed calling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-2815288037808412044?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/2815288037808412044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=2815288037808412044&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/2815288037808412044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/2815288037808412044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/today-is-brought-you-by-number-two.html' title='Today is brought you by the number two.'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-3968406867031972647</id><published>2009-11-03T19:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T19:24:09.979-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emptier than I've ever been...</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is the big day. As it quickly approaches I'm filled with anxiety and a bit of excitement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt; on Monday deemed I was a "perfect" specimen (hey!) for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;laparscopic&lt;/span&gt; robotic hysterectomy.  Lucky me.  The doc told me, and I quote, "You're set up perfectly."  Who knew I was "set up" perfectly.  I would hope I'm "set up" like all women, but maybe I am more different than you all thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two things came out of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt; that didn't please me at all and is the reason for previously mentioned anxiety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) I had to starve myself today by an all liquid diet. AND I had to take some nasty stuff that "tastes like cherry" to clean out my innards.  I know &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;TMI&lt;/span&gt;, but still. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) I get to give myself injections for 21 LONG days after the surgery thanks to my blood clot issue I had a few years ago.  The doctor doesn't want to take any chances, and while I agree with him, I'm sure modern technology allows for another method to thin my blood. Like, can't I just drink more water? Or can't I take a pill?  Why shots?  I expressed my concern to him by nearly begging, but he would not be swayed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest news of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt; was that he will be taking all my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; parts.  He wasn't 100% convinced that the ovaries aren't in danger and so thought while he was in there might as well. My sentiments exactly!  Naturally my first concern was the steep drop into menopause without my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; parts, but rest assured he had an answer for that too.  I get to wear an estrogen patch for 10 more years or however long before I hit menopause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if you're up on your facts you may know that estrogen was the cause of my blood clots to begin with.  They think.  I was on birth control pills and we all know those are estrogen.  We all do know that right?  So he'll be putting me on an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;extremely&lt;/span&gt; low dose.  AND apparently taking estrogen orally causes way more problems with clots due to something your liver does or doesn't due in processing (frankly I glazed over when he was telling me). Whereas with the patch, it seeps in through your skin, and it's safer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the long run it'll also reduce my risk of breast cancer in my later years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parental units made it up here and are settling in.  Mom's been laughing at me all day as I've made many, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;many&lt;/span&gt; MANY trips to the little girls room.  And even though I've had nothing to eat today, I'm somewhat surprised at how not hungry I am.  Though I have my mind set on a nice big burger sometime Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to say a BIG FAT THANK YOU to everyone who has sent me well wishes.  You never really know how much support you're friends will provide until you need it, and I've gotta say, you are all the best friends ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with that, I'm going to go drink some more water and have some orange jello, get a good night sleep and by this time tomorrow I'll be 3lbs lighter and without my girl parts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-3968406867031972647?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/3968406867031972647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=3968406867031972647&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/3968406867031972647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/3968406867031972647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/emptier-than-ive-ever-been.html' title='Emptier than I&apos;ve ever been...'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-2518616618762883924</id><published>2009-11-01T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T19:14:36.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Glitter on the Mattress</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you see a faded sign on on the side of the road....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399250941148945906" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Su3-H-BgXfI/AAAAAAAACKg/Yk4U84Gc1OE/s400/dmq013.jpg" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes. That's right. The boys of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;DMQ&lt;/span&gt; were the B52's last night. Classic. Absolutely classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Su3scI2-XzI/AAAAAAAACKQ/92HHMRtbxos/s1600-h/dmq004.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not a huge B52 fan, &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Su3-WGQG4tI/AAAAAAAACKo/j7Oi8WACV8Y/s1600-h/dmq007.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;but at least knew 2 of the 3 songs they sang last night. Rock Lobster and Love Shack. Hearing Rock Lobster rocketed me back to my sophomore year in high school and attending the USA Camp with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BFF&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Laurakens&lt;/span&gt;. They had a little party for the teams and I remember hearing this song for the first time. Oh the memories. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ahem...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right, so the boys did a damn good B52 impression. The lead singer sounded shockingly close to the guy in the B52s. Oddly though they didn't sing all 10 of the Top 10 Worst songs. I was a bit bummed, because some of them were way bad. A few on the list they didn't sing: Party All the Time, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sussudio&lt;/span&gt;, You Light Up My Life, a couple more I can't recall. But of the 4 they did sing...wow, were they bad...in a good way. Oh, you want to know what they were? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The #1 of the Top 10 is one of my all time favorite 80's songs...and I admit, it's a bad song. It's the Final Countdown. Other songs they sang: We Built This City by Jefferson &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Starship&lt;/span&gt;, I was Made For Loving You by KISS, and Sister Christian. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In attendance last night were three, count them, THREE Dudley Virgins: Seattle &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SIL&lt;/span&gt;, Mrs. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Braspir&lt;/span&gt;, and the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PMGoddess&lt;/span&gt;. Of the "old" gang partying all the time were Blueberry, myself (of course), &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PhotoGirl&lt;/span&gt; and The Yank. The place was packed and some pretty darn interesting costumes. Of my crowd we all wore this Pippy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Longstocking&lt;/span&gt; Witch hats, but The Yank and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PhotoGirl&lt;/span&gt; out did themselves. One was Major D. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Pression&lt;/span&gt; and the other was General Anxiety and they were both dressed in army &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;fatiques&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399709404938186802" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Su-fGEutMDI/AAAAAAAACKw/L2Od5-4RF3c/s320/dmq014.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-2518616618762883924?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/2518616618762883924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=2518616618762883924&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/2518616618762883924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/2518616618762883924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/11/glitter-on-mattress.html' title='Glitter on the Mattress'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/Su3-H-BgXfI/AAAAAAAACKg/Yk4U84Gc1OE/s72-c/dmq013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-4035595007323951732</id><published>2009-10-31T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T11:59:31.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Halloweeny! You weeny!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Did you get your fill of Ma Nah Ma Nah? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight is the annual Dudley Manlove Spooktacular (that's for you PMDude). I can't wait. A load of Dudley virgins are coming with me tonight. They have no idea how their lives are going to change after tonight. Who do you think the boys will dress up as? Madonna's? The Bangles? We shall see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday was a rough day for the cat who owns this place. I'm sure when he woke up in the morning and started the diatribe of "feed me", he didn't think he'd be stuffed in a box three times and stuck in the Stang each time and the off times outta the stang stuffed in the bathroom. Because had he known ... well he wouldn't have gotten out of bed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The day started like most. He got fed. Yet he hadn't read the memo indicating the Fire people were coming to check the systems. According to the landlords I had to be out as did the cat for the "test" all day. I had no idea what to do with the cat "all day". I mean it's a cat. I can't take him to work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a 9AM call and I just knew the fire people would show up in the middle of the car. So to avoid having to explain to a client what the screeching noise in the background was, I thought I'd take the call from Tullys. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had already stuffed the cat into the bathroom - he was already aware that something wa&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuyIr4lTj6I/AAAAAAAACKI/xAhuAqjwOq4/s1600-h/blackcat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 185px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398840340814991266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuyIr4lTj6I/AAAAAAAACKI/xAhuAqjwOq4/s200/blackcat.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;s up. At 20 till I stuffed the cat into the "Live Animal" box (it cracks me up that it says "Live Animal". I mean as if you'd be shipping a dead one.) and headed downstairs to leave. At the bottom of the stairs I had to stop and open the garage door. I carefully put the Live Animal up 5 steps so I could open the door. I turned and that's when my calves were slammed by said Live Animal. Poor cage and kitty tumbled down the flight of stairs. I started giggling at the thought of Pookie being in the spin cycle. He was unharmed, just a bit frightened I think. Oh if he only knew what was next. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He got put in the stang and off we went. The Tully's is all of less than a quarter of a mile and let me tell you, he had a few things to say on the way. I left him in the car and went into Tullys. Finished the call and headed home. He was none too happy to have been left. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back at home, back into the bathroom. The look on his face was, "Just wait. " &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again, we had to leave to get lunch. He and went to Subway. Usually he likes Subway turkey, not so much this time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One last trip came as the inspection boys showed up. This time we only sat in the Stang in a parking spot. I tried turning on the radio thinking that music calms the savage beast. That's a lie. The savage beast out sang the 80's hair band belting out a ballad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At last, he was freed from his captivity. I didn't see him for most the rest of the day. Finally he showed his furry face and managed to settle down on the couch. He no sooner closed his eyes and the fire alarm went of. I didn't see the black blurr, just saw the fur still hanging in the air. You know how in cartoons the character jumps and appears to be running in place in mid air...then they bolt? Yah, that's what this looked like. About 8pm last night he came sleeking downstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He survived. I survived. I have yet to find the "treats" I'm sure he's left me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-4035595007323951732?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/4035595007323951732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=4035595007323951732&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/4035595007323951732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/4035595007323951732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/10/happy-halloweeny-you-weeny.html' title='Happy Halloweeny! You weeny!'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuyIr4lTj6I/AAAAAAAACKI/xAhuAqjwOq4/s72-c/blackcat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-5205409328576230514</id><published>2009-10-26T16:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T16:20:31.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ma Nah Ma Nah</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/HS7GQFxoHKg' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/HS7GQFxoHKg'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh man  I soo needed this...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-5205409328576230514?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/5205409328576230514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=5205409328576230514&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/5205409328576230514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/5205409328576230514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/10/ma-nah-ma-nah.html' title='Ma Nah Ma Nah'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-241355147214525421</id><published>2009-10-25T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T10:44:26.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Pumpkin Carving...Part VIII</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuSN4i2M-bI/AAAAAAAACKA/xlEGAapKvBM/s1600-h/IMG_6174.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396594256063035826" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuSN4i2M-bI/AAAAAAAACKA/xlEGAapKvBM/s400/IMG_6174.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Thought I would add two more photos of the event...and Blogger is being a Pain so I can't move them down in the thread...but Pumpkin Peeps and Spider Cupcakes finished out the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuSN4O1ov8I/AAAAAAAACJ4/Y9b1NAV820g/s1600-h/IMG_6173.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396594250691952578" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuSN4O1ov8I/AAAAAAAACJ4/Y9b1NAV820g/s400/IMG_6173.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuR2c1OG3bI/AAAAAAAACJg/60NzKE6yvpg/s1600-h/The+layout.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396568491191360946" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuR2c1OG3bI/AAAAAAAACJg/60NzKE6yvpg/s400/The+layout.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've lost count at how many of these I've had. It's relatively annual and I think I started in like 1998 or something. I'm trying to remember where I was living so I can pin point the year. Still, last night was the "8&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;" annual Great Pumpkin Carving at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Chez&lt;/span&gt; Jenn's. As expected all was in rare form and as creative they could be with pumpkins. This year I decided to let everyone bring their "scariest" appetizers. And naturally we had WAY too much food, but we did our best to get rid of it. (BTW I tried the Trader Joe version of chicken &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;gyoza&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; good).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the photos are &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jennwraspir/sets/72157622659064400/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, if you dare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I decided to step outside the box this year and carve a WHITE pumpkin. Which by the way I've never done...so guess what's been added to the list of 40?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went for the pirate theme on accident. I started by carving the top off, digging out the guts and then wanting to be 'creative' when Mr. Volleyball suggested square eyes. Okay. Square. And we were doing well until one cut went too far - thus the notches. It's all in how you improvise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuR02lbasSI/AAAAAAAACJY/jlazNY0a4oE/s1600-h/argh.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396566734605562146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuR02lbasSI/AAAAAAAACJY/jlazNY0a4oE/s400/argh.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm always amazed how people go about their carving. Some dig on in like Blueberry and others have to serious contemplate where to cut - Like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ChickenLady&lt;/span&gt;. She wanted her pumpkin to "talk" to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuR02enemtI/AAAAAAAACJQ/IIoouWgvtaA/s1600-h/thethinker.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396566732777102034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuR02enemtI/AAAAAAAACJQ/IIoouWgvtaA/s400/thethinker.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So drum roll please.........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are the finished products. Left to right: Kim used a template, but you can't really see how good it was, mine, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ChickenLady's&lt;/span&gt; Spider, Blueberry's Big Eyes, Mr. Volleyball and The Dane's unfinished drawn on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;gourd&lt;/span&gt;, and Claudia's tree carved pumpkin. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ooo&lt;/span&gt; La La.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuR01ytb6II/AAAAAAAACJI/NUQTX82c4Mk/s1600-h/thelot.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 106px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396566720990931074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuR01ytb6II/AAAAAAAACJI/NUQTX82c4Mk/s400/thelot.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Pumpkin Murderer's: Me, Kim, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ChickenLady&lt;/span&gt;, Blueberry, The Dane, Claudia and Mr. Volleyball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396566720092410290" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuR01vXNkbI/AAAAAAAACJA/K9G-U8XRuIE/s400/thegang.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you weren't there you missed out. AND you may have been taken off the dinner rotation at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Chez&lt;/span&gt; Jenn's. Unless you have a good excuse...and I mean a &lt;em&gt;good&lt;/em&gt; excuse. Like maybe being in another state, that might be a good excuse. Might be....&lt;/p&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/17776920-241355147214525421?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/241355147214525421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=241355147214525421&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/241355147214525421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/241355147214525421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/10/great-pumpkin-carvingpart-viii.html' title='The Great Pumpkin Carving...Part VIII'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NQmCrAT5Hk8/SuSN4i2M-bI/AAAAAAAACKA/xlEGAapKvBM/s72-c/IMG_6174.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-8171975367254447768</id><published>2009-10-23T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T21:56:04.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Along with the Sunshine, there's gonna be a little rain sometime.</title><content type='html'>First let's start with the good news.  Not that there's bad news, per &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;se&lt;/span&gt;, but let us begin with good news.  Solid good news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ROCKED THE &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;CASBAH&lt;/span&gt; TODAY IN A QUARTERLY BUSINESS &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;REVEIW&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's more, the feedback from a major player was so astonishing to me that I almost felt like I could do anything. I found renewed faith in doing a good job.  I felt confidence I hadn't felt in a long time.  The interesting thing to me, this last wave of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;positive&lt;/span&gt; feedback comes on the heals of other good and interesting comments made by friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right, so the not so good news.  If you are one of those friends of mine who find I share too much information on this blog. You should turn away now.  Don't read further.  I'm about to disclose some rather personal information - and I don't want to hear from you that I share too much.  You've been warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to have a hysterectomy.  I know. Don't be jealous.  You wish you were this fortunate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out that after the last little procedure the doctors found some nasty little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-killer cells.  There are two options for me. One of which isn't really an option and the other is a hysterectomy.  Me? At just 40?  Seems so surreal to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had about a week to take this all in and I've had some very quiet evenings at home to have little freak out sessions.  I'm feeling pretty normal now.  Scared to death and yet I feel in control of my destiny.  I know that this surgery is one of the most common that women go through and rarely have any serious issues related to it.  And I know that this surgery will save my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is what got me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realizing that removing an "organ" that I really haven't needed means that cells that were only interested in killing me will be removed.  Stupid cells.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hah&lt;/span&gt;. I'll show you.  You won't win. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Neener&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Neener&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And besides, I've been informed that I'll really have the best of both worlds.  I won't have Aunt Flow visit monthly AND I won't be in menopause (they aren't taking the ovaries). So really, this could be a good thing, right?  No. It IS a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm adding a hysterectomy to my list of 40 new things. Funny little thing life, I had no idea &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; would be one of my "new" things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanna an update of my 40 things?  I know you do. I'm starting to think I may not make 40 things, but ... we'll we shall see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Starbucks Instant Coffee - &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Nummers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Boss and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BossBoss&lt;/span&gt; for Dinner at my house&lt;br /&gt;3.  Podiatrist visit&lt;br /&gt;4. Walk of Hope&lt;br /&gt;5.  5K Run Photography&lt;br /&gt;6.  Grease at the 5&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Ave&lt;br /&gt;7.  Roller Derby - &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;YeeHaw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  New place to live&lt;br /&gt;9.  Read 100 new books - 67 read to date&lt;br /&gt;10.  Volunteering for the Getting Started Meetings (3Day)&lt;br /&gt;11.  Volunteer photographer for 3Day&lt;br /&gt;12.  Pampered Chef party&lt;br /&gt;13.  3 Day Expo Volunteer&lt;br /&gt;14.  Race For The Cure Volunteer Photographer&lt;br /&gt;15.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;iL&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Divo&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ooo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lala&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;16.  Ducks Tour&lt;br /&gt;17.  Dueling Pianos (and really bad food)&lt;br /&gt;18.  Volunteer for Survivor Brunch&lt;br /&gt;19.  Try over 100 new recipes (I need to count these - I think I'm around 65)&lt;br /&gt;20.  Ultra sound&lt;br /&gt;21.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hysteroscopy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Hysterectomy&lt;br /&gt;23.  Volunteer Photographer for Gala&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I still need to do:&lt;br /&gt;1. Glass Museum&lt;br /&gt;2. Smith Tower&lt;br /&gt;3. Photograph a Wedding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm at a loss now...I need more new things people!&lt;br /&gt;4.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-8171975367254447768?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/8171975367254447768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=8171975367254447768&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/8171975367254447768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/8171975367254447768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/10/along-with-sunshine-theres-gonna-be.html' title='Along with the Sunshine, there&apos;s gonna be a little rain sometime.'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17776920.post-1241568273842959390</id><published>2009-10-19T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T22:32:12.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The World IS out to get me...</title><content type='html'>Sitting in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;. office this afternoon for the "No big deal" post op, I felt confident that in fact the little bugger of a surgery would be "no big deal."  As I sat and waited for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;. to come in, I glanced around the sterile room.  My mind focused entirely on getting out of there and back to work...I mean, I have things to do. This little visit should be quick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes take in the room.  The counter tops are covered with baby stuff - or rather anti baby stuff.  I'm slightly amused with the "models" they have on the counter top.  The calendar is of babys, the pamphlets are all about either having or not having a baby.  Everything around me is about having kids.  Naturally.  And somewhat ironically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a soft knock on the door and in walks Doc.  She seems a bit apprehensive, but she starts jabbering on asking me how I felt after the surgery.   We banter back and forth about the entire process and finally she clears her throat.  "I've received the pathology report."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something in me felt cold.  I had a bad feeling about what was coming next.  My hands were suddenly clammy and I was sure my face was white as snow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiles softly and proceeds to tell me about the results.  She mutters off large words that are incomprehensible to me. I nod politely and act as if I understand what she's saying.  I remind myself to pay attention as I am immediately taken back to my semester in Mexico where I simply nodded yes regardless of what I understood.  It didn't have any real &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;consequences&lt;/span&gt; then, but it could now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell myself to focus and get back into the conversation just to hear the words "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-cancerous".  Wait what?  I'm too young for the C word.  She did not just say the C word? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaking my head I ask her go over that one more time, and please use words a 2 year old would understand. She proceeds to explain about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;atypia&lt;/span&gt; cells.  They are just abnormal cells, that may or may not be cancerous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bottom line is this...I have to make a decision about how to proceed.  I have two options.  One of which isn't at all something I think I want to do. Which leaves option 2.  Option 2, not something I thought a 40 year old would have done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, as she wrote down the pathology report terms and a phone number for a referral to an - gulp - oncologist I found myself suddenly a bit numb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "C" word and the "O" word in one day. Surely that just proves my point in the title of this blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must have appeared like death warmed over because she patted my hand and said she was merely referring me to these doctors as they specialize in a "robotic" method and wants me to discuss  my options with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;nothings&lt;/span&gt; cancerous now. But could be. Maybe or Maybe not in the future.  How does one make a decision based on that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, I toddle off to the car I'm playing the visit over and over in my mind. Freaked out to say the least, I pour myself into my car. Comforted by the warmth of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Stang&lt;/span&gt; and the really bad 80's tune.  I take a moment and breath.  Closing my eyes to really think about what just happened.  And I did what any normal woman would do after this type of doctor's visit....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... I drove to Starbucks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17776920-1241568273842959390?l=jennwraspir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/feeds/1241568273842959390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17776920&amp;postID=1241568273842959390&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/1241568273842959390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17776920/posts/default/1241568273842959390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jennwraspir.blogspot.com/2009/10/world-is-out-to-get-me.html' title='The World IS out to get me...'/><author><name>Jenn from WA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751954970298044506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01946213879905532281'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry></feed>