<?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-7000222011781721298</id><updated>2009-11-09T09:32:16.909-05:00</updated><title type='text'>jt says</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-1966547749026308598</id><published>2008-07-24T20:30:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T15:27:32.309-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm like a bird, i wanna fly away...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;okay so, years ago this guy known around town was running a landscaping company, so i hired the cutie &amp;amp; within days, during which i gladly watched his sweat &amp;amp; tears, his brilliant, well-thought out placement of each brick, like an artiste at work whose canvas was 20' of dirt, people could finally friggin' walk to our front door on a beautiful masterpiece instead of mud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;the finger-missing enigma then spent years creating something of such gigantic proportions it makes our walkway seem like a goddamn no-see-em bug compared to this amazing concoction on barron mountain in new hampsha, the only one in the entire northeast, something usually used by bioligists to study stuff in rain forests.... okay, peaked (no pun intended) your interest?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;it's a zipline my friends, it's insane &amp;amp; i love it. cables hang high in the trees, from one platform to another as we are harnessed &amp;amp; "strung" along the thrilling course &amp;amp; fly from tree to tree at heights that didn't stop this chick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;the guides are young &amp;amp; act as if smoking is mandatory although i didn't smell anything, i was just amused by the adorable crew &amp;amp; their witty aperte while at the same time made sure we were all safe, we were in good hands. they made me laugh that's all i care about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;we made our way up the steep mountain in some sort of war-like vehicle in which we had to wear our helmets &amp;amp; hold on tight so as to not tumble backwards like a total loser. when we reached the top, got our last safety schpiel, a gangly dude with curly, bed head hair said "who wants to go first." well our you surprised? i jumped out of my skin with a way too loud "ME!!!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;well i wasn't scared, seriously. although my adrenaline was making an enourmous welcomed appearance in my bod, what an awesome high. i jumped &amp;amp; zipped. like flying, my friends. i was caught about 100" away at a platform built on a tree that must be hundreds of years old by a capable chap who was impressed by my scream free zip &amp;amp; also by my boston marathon jacket, so more points they scored. i was so psyched i couldn't wait to zip to the next platform. but first i had to cross a "bridge", something made of rope that just swung back &amp;amp; forth. i'm not bragging, well yes i am, but again i walked across with such ease, a large grin on my face, i couldn't get enough of this crazy shit. i pondered, when did i become this friggin' adrenaline junky. i was starting to understand the psychies of those freaky billionaires that do crazy stunts just for the thrill of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;so we zipped &amp;amp; zipped. the last zip was the best as a cool chick guide asked me in a slight whisper... "now, do you want to do this one the normal way or go for it?" i cut her off saying, "GO FOR IT!" she had me stand backwards on the platform, heels hanging off the edge, she had me lean back, while she held onto me. then with no notice, she let go. holy shit. i fell backward, like falling, i don't know how many feet down but it was awesome. now that time i did shout out, not sure what came out of my mouth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;as i made my final "landing" i heard a slight "zipping" noise, but it was coming from high, high above. as i looked up, at first i thought i was looking at a small plane whiz by, but soon realized it was 2 people zipping. "that's the new sky rider zipline, it's legit" the dude said seeing my jaw-dropping expression. he explained that the new course was above the trees, went way faster, the lines were longer &amp;amp; there was one zip that had cables side by side so that you could "race" your cohort. i said, "i want to do &lt;em&gt;that.&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;i quickly inquired about doing that other course right then &amp;amp; there but they were done for the day, fuck. needlesss to say, we're going back to do the higher course, then i'll really be like a bird, flying away...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIkiiKgZY_I/AAAAAAAAAIM/q_fb5fRkIHU/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226746812871304178" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIkiiKgZY_I/AAAAAAAAAIM/q_fb5fRkIHU/s320/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIkovSXzVjI/AAAAAAAAAIc/t9HDYI6Ousk/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226753635390805554" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIkovSXzVjI/AAAAAAAAAIc/t9HDYI6Ousk/s320/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIkju_04yyI/AAAAAAAAAIU/ZK2ER2VXCcE/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226748132854385442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIkju_04yyI/AAAAAAAAAIU/ZK2ER2VXCcE/s320/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIkpwQUeRKI/AAAAAAAAAIk/lKzRW2v5-zc/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226754751531467938" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIkpwQUeRKI/AAAAAAAAAIk/lKzRW2v5-zc/s320/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;thanks &lt;a href="http://www.alpinesnowmobiling.com/Zipline%20New%20Hampshire.html"&gt;alpine adventures&lt;/a&gt;... you rock.  &amp;amp; i'll forever brag about my gorgeous walkway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;xoxo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;j&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/7000222011781721298-1966547749026308598?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/1966547749026308598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/1966547749026308598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-like-bird-i-wanna-fly-away.html' title='i&apos;m like a bird, i wanna fly away...'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIkiiKgZY_I/AAAAAAAAAIM/q_fb5fRkIHU/s72-c/006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-5616237033031612175</id><published>2008-07-22T18:45:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T15:44:31.968-04:00</updated><title type='text'>nose bleed, no problem...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;okay so, when i refer to nose bleed here, i mean the old adage that park/stadium/arena seats that are so high up (so far away from the event) they may in fact cause you to suffer a bloody nose which is known to happen at such high altitudes. Thus, you are in the "nosebleeds." i feel no need to explain, i just like hearing myself talk as you know. anyhow, we were dined in the red sox players club (free meal) which was nice, so as we searched for our seats (free tix) afterward, the smirks on our faces just grew &amp;amp; grew as we just kept walking higher &amp;amp; higher away from the gloriously green field. we kept walking through the humid air smelling of fenway franks and beer. i felt something trickle on my face, was it blood?? i checked and no, it was just sweat. we eventually ended up in the very back row of one of the farthest away grandstand sections in all of fenway (or at least it felt that way). and we were in the center of the extremely long skinny aisle. we worked very hard to hold back our laughter. okay so, i know i sound snobby, but come on, if i'm going to go to an event/game whatever, this chick wants to be able to see the goddammn event/game whatever with her own eyes. call me high maintenance, whatev.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;but i must admit that our fate ended up making for a very fun night as we laughed, taking turns bending our heads around the "obstruction" to see the small dot which was our pitcher on the mound. we laughed about how goddamn hot it was, how close the seats were &amp;amp; how we held our legs together so close so as to not rub our sweaty legs on the peeps seated next to us. we frantically searched for the water bottle boy several times, how much for 2 tiny water bottles? come again? i saw wally dancing, that's always fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;by the 5th inning, i had to make an escape, i had to roam, feel some breeze, see the game up close in some shape or form. so we made our way down the aisle making about 20 people stand up for us, how many times did i have to friggin' say excuse me and rub up against some random schwetty man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;we made our way to the standing room only/bar area and felt a refreshing breeze, took in the boston skyline and the crescent moon in clear view. i snuck in front of the cameras to take a shot of home plate, come on i had to see something, before i was quickly ushered away by security. am i back in high school or something? whatever, again free meal, free tix.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;no nose bleeds. a fun night at fenway. 2 little wally's to bring home to the kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjNSwqjTsI/AAAAAAAAAHk/qDoxlFGSfYA/s1600-h/127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226653089748176578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjNSwqjTsI/AAAAAAAAAHk/qDoxlFGSfYA/s320/127.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjWGHBwHVI/AAAAAAAAAH8/TtjK1zbaqVo/s1600-h/122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226662768017415506" style="CURSOR: hand" height="200" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjWGHBwHVI/AAAAAAAAAH8/TtjK1zbaqVo/s320/122.JPG" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjUnTttKEI/AAAAAAAAAH0/jKDNLfeMBs8/s1600-h/gm.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226661139335424066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjUnTttKEI/AAAAAAAAAH0/jKDNLfeMBs8/s320/gm.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjOCbKnBjI/AAAAAAAAAHs/NViCovKCne0/s1600-h/130.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226653908610778674" style="CURSOR: hand" height="241" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjOCbKnBjI/AAAAAAAAAHs/NViCovKCne0/s320/130.JPG" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjXI3xui8I/AAAAAAAAAIE/YtjjzgwcNGA/s1600-h/114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226663914974907330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjXI3xui8I/AAAAAAAAAIE/YtjjzgwcNGA/s320/114.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;xo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;~j&lt;/span&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/7000222011781721298-5616237033031612175?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/5616237033031612175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/5616237033031612175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/nose-bleed-no-problem.html' title='nose bleed, no problem...'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SIjNSwqjTsI/AAAAAAAAAHk/qDoxlFGSfYA/s72-c/127.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-4865333058122247338</id><published>2008-07-15T20:37:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T11:16:51.395-04:00</updated><title type='text'>party in montgomery...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...park, that is. a hidden, beautiful, private gem that's where? yes, in the heart of the city somewhere on tremont but i'll never tell. well, it's kept locked so you're out of luck anyway. fabulous evening filled with great food, great company &amp;amp; lots of laughs (way too many discussions about breasts &amp;amp; penises. i have to wear a "deceiver" or else you'd all be horrified, ok?).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;seeing my toronto mates, priceless :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SH1K2mCdGZI/AAAAAAAAAGs/LW4wXSJ38Wk/s1600-h/diane%27s+7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223413444603877778" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SH1K2mCdGZI/AAAAAAAAAGs/LW4wXSJ38Wk/s200/diane%27s+7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SH1K2zLVKlI/AAAAAAAAAG8/_VNmrQ3w0TQ/s1600-h/diane%27s+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223413448130767442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SH1K2zLVKlI/AAAAAAAAAG8/_VNmrQ3w0TQ/s200/diane%27s+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SH1K20OI_bI/AAAAAAAAAG0/p_kT9-iIV5g/s1600-h/diane%27s+9.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SH1LS1WfN9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/kqRRWsVuMmU/s1600-h/diane%27s+10.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SH1LTEd6BzI/AAAAAAAAAHM/0ClzyECi4tc/s1600-h/diane%27s+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SH1LTFgPhgI/AAAAAAAAAHU/yFYm1YCxX3Q/s1600-h/diane%27s+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223413934086653442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SH1LTFgPhgI/AAAAAAAAAHU/yFYm1YCxX3Q/s200/diane%27s+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks d.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;xo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;jennifer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;p.s. want to congratulate a chick on her fab new pad? get her this &lt;a href="http://www.lolasays.com/product.php?productid=44&amp;amp;cat=15&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;lola says card&lt;/a&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/7000222011781721298-4865333058122247338?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/4865333058122247338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/4865333058122247338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/party-in-montgomery.html' title='party in montgomery...'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SH1K2mCdGZI/AAAAAAAAAGs/LW4wXSJ38Wk/s72-c/diane%27s+7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-8528061733301196177</id><published>2008-07-09T17:24:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T21:20:35.727-04:00</updated><title type='text'>funky fate &amp; my pink laptop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;okay so, my hub bought me a laptop, pink of course. but i couldn't friggin' figure out how to transfer the stuff from my old computer onto my new sleek, thin friend. after way too much time on the phone with the fellows at dell, buying some sort of "transfer" software &amp;amp; cable &amp;amp; then just wanting to craigslist the goddamn thing, my savior stepped in...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;it was about 3 years ago that i stumbled upon a relatively cute website. i looked at the bottom &amp;amp; saw the endearing name of the company that developed it, the &lt;strong&gt;funky monkey media group&lt;/strong&gt;. i filled out their contact form, received a way too nice reply &amp;amp; estimate from a chick named jaime &amp;amp; only a few weeks later had my fab online presence that was made with such ease i was flabbergasted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;anyway, about a billion emails later, abutting trade show booths, another website, parties at my house, the mutual love of our ever-so-talented dave matthews &amp;amp; limo rides to go see him, freaking out each time she took a vacation, feeling like &lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;was the one trying to get preg when she was the one on the infamous roller coaster ride that feat entails, asking her each month "pee on stick today?"... jaime &amp;amp; i are now bff's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;SO she arrived at my abode with a watermelon in her belly (yes she's preg! but it literally looks like she stuck a large melon under her dave t). My techie friend to my cute laptop's rescue. she spent a couple of hours tapping away &amp;amp; making squealing noises &amp;amp; bizarre gestures when successfully completing each step of the process. all the while i sat next to her being a total pita as usual, reminiscing about how i believe fate absolutely brought us together &amp;amp; wtf would i do without her?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;then it was DONE. alleluia. i was psyched. then off to giorgio's we went, they stuck us in a corner (was it personal? just cuz we had raggy dave t's on? wtf?), we ate salads the size of mt. everest &amp;amp; enough hummus &amp;amp; bread to feed a small village. &amp;amp; then she was on her way...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;my beloved new computer is a welcomed appendage fixed up by my fab friend. i feel liberated, free from the confines of my office, able to write &amp;amp; write (i write other stuff too, not just this babble) where ever i am. i bow down to the wireless gods, i am not worthy. i've had several laptops in the past, all owned by which ever company i was working for at the time, none wireless, wow that dates me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;anyway, thanks so much j for coming to the rescue once again. hopefully i'll see you before your watermelon pops. hopefully the project we're working on now will put lola on a much bigger map. hopefully i'll be your total pita client &amp;amp; friend 4eva!... funky fate will decide. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SHVjHW3PPfI/AAAAAAAAAFk/9VkfpQz0vOo/s1600-h/107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221188321053457906" style="WIDTH: 293px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px" height="240" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SHVjHW3PPfI/AAAAAAAAAFk/9VkfpQz0vOo/s320/107.JPG" width="293" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SHVjHICZ-VI/AAAAAAAAAFc/guJxUtw-p3s/s1600-h/106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221188317073766738" style="WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px" height="240" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SHVjHICZ-VI/AAAAAAAAAFc/guJxUtw-p3s/s320/106.JPG" width="288" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;xo - j&lt;br /&gt;p.s. thank a friend for their support with this &lt;a href="http://www.lolasays.com/product.php?productid=54&amp;amp;cat=11&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;lola says card&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7000222011781721298-8528061733301196177?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/8528061733301196177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/8528061733301196177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/funky-fate-my-pink-laptop.html' title='funky fate &amp; my pink laptop'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SHVjHW3PPfI/AAAAAAAAAFk/9VkfpQz0vOo/s72-c/107.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-3364455611388561765</id><published>2008-06-28T10:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T11:48:26.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>running scenes - part 1.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;okay, so not a day goes by that i wonder "wtf am i doing living in the middle of the gd woods?" we left my beloved city with much trepedition &amp;amp; treked north 6 years ago. no more "street lights, people, ohhhh." it is now turkeys, deer, moose, the occasional coyote sighting, fox, and once a fisher cat, wtf. i must tell you about my most recent debacle...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;as my hubby pulled in the driveway from work yesterday, i swiftly made my escape &amp;amp; embarked on my daily run. 3 miles down my dirt road, not one car has passed. it was on my return route that my daily bewilderment reached an all time high. a goddamn miniature (or is dwarf the word?) horse was pulling a tiny one person carriage in which a small women sat, no fucking joke. i'm talking a horse so small it looked like a friggin' dog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;as i approached the freak show from behind, i wondered what should i do? should i shout out "on your left" as runners do on the track &amp;amp; bikers do to us runners on the road? but i didn't want to scare the height challenged mammal or the whip-bearing little lady. so i said nothing. but soon they both heard my nike structure triax sneaks hitting the pavement (yes, there's a portion of our road that is indeed paved). their heads turned, the women said a friendly "hello" but the dwarf neighed &amp;amp; grunted at me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;i picked up my speed so as to escape from the reality of which is my life. how the fuck did i get here, running past a goddamn circus-like spectacle. i soon realized that the fucker wanted to take me on, his gait picked up speed &amp;amp; the women spoke, i believe asking it to slow down. it didn't listen. there was no friggin' way i was going to have a friggin' miniature carriage-yielding horse pass my marathon experienced strides. i increased my pace soon venturing upon the dirt portion of my road conquering the winding hills that terrify my city-flat asphalt-charles river breeze-running friends, pussies. the galloping was still within ear-shot. i took on the hills with awe-inspiring velocity, flying insects swarming my head, looking back to be sure the thing was no longer in site.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;i didn't stop running until i reached my driveway. i could not see or hear them. then as i turned back, i jumped a foot as a deer hopped out of the woods right in front of me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;oh jesus christ almighty, i live in a friggin' zoo. where am i? oh how i miss the "street lights, people..ohhhh."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;as any excellent blogger should, i sprinted up my driveway, ran into my house, up my hardwood stairs &amp;amp; grabbed my digital off my desk. i walked back down to the road thinking i could get a shot to share with you all. but they must have taken a turn back, cuz they never showed. little fucker. but i just had to find a pic that resembled the little guy... ha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SGZapbgDm4I/AAAAAAAAAE8/vOsm34tvwy0/s1600-h/twinkie10222%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216956886158646146" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SGZapbgDm4I/AAAAAAAAAE8/vOsm34tvwy0/s320/twinkie10222%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;the town must post this sign. i will attend the next town meeting to address the issue.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SGZaCVnEfWI/AAAAAAAAAE0/FPDBmSa4DBQ/s1600-h/images%5B7%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216956214562553186" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SGZaCVnEfWI/AAAAAAAAAE0/FPDBmSa4DBQ/s320/images%5B7%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SGZaCVnEfWI/AAAAAAAAAE0/FPDBmSa4DBQ/s1600-h/images%5B7%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hee hee.&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;br /&gt;jt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;p.s. city chicks, get your country friends to the city, asap. send them this &lt;a href="http://www.jtreacydesigns.com/product.php?productid=121&amp;amp;cat=66&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;lola says card &lt;/a&gt;now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7000222011781721298-3364455611388561765?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/3364455611388561765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/3364455611388561765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/running-scenes-part-1.html' title='running scenes - part 1.'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SGZapbgDm4I/AAAAAAAAAE8/vOsm34tvwy0/s72-c/twinkie10222%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-2503910164259186778</id><published>2008-06-20T10:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T11:18:24.807-04:00</updated><title type='text'>world champs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;okay, so, yes i was there. i watched the celts become the world champs, unbelievable. janet &amp;amp; i again wore our fabulously rhinestone studded boston tanks, of course our attire was an important part of this unforgettable evening, duh. although we didn't effectively plan our looks as i wore my wedges &amp;amp; she wore her flats, making her falsely appeared about a foot shorter than i am, damn. but i digress, here's the amazing game from a basketball clueless chick's point of view...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;using our must-have binoculars, our first celebrity sighting was of the infamous Steven Tyler sitting court side. around the corner on the floor were Bill Belichick &amp;amp; his wife looking dapper &amp;amp; receiving thunderous cheers as they were shown on the jumbotron, who the hell doesn't love Bill? as usual, the NKOTB boys sat court side as well. Ainge was a total cutie with his trademark puppy dog expression &amp;amp; his celts tie which was adorned with what i think were shamrocks (my binoculars aren't that good, cut me some slack). the entire front office brass wore the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;so we watched as kobe never passed the ball to any of his teammates, whatev. he led his team to take the lead for a while there. but not to worry, our boys soon dominated with such choreographed grace &amp;amp; gorgeous athleticism. like stallions marking their territory with an amazingly strong &amp;amp; powerful force it was an absolute sight to be seen. the fast pace of basketball is thrilling causing all attendees to quickly raise both arms in the air each time the ball was successfully put through the hoop. i also took note that the most common cheer was "woooo", ironic since i was with wu, hee hee. sitting down was rare, which is great knowing that we too were burning some calories as we watched our boys sweat, competing so hard the physical toll on their bodies was praiseworthy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;notice how i am not mentioning stats, or offering a play-by-play commentary. i just can't. i'm a self-confessed playoff fan. to those who were there cheering them on for the past few years as they totally sucked, i commend you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;the celts took a 20 then 30 point lead making the game enjoyable, dissipating our anxiety. the anticipation for the last few minutes to countdown was astounding. soon the last few seconds were disappearing &amp;amp; what to our wondering eyes did we see? the goddamn boston celtics become the world champions. the team running onto the gleaming court with much deserved happiness. green &amp;amp; white confetti shot into the stadium air &amp;amp; soon the golden trophy was held high by none other than pierce, the mvp that waited 10 years for that moment. unexpected tears came to my eyes &amp;amp; my hands covered my mouth in complete shock of what i was experiencing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;we watched as stern mumbled some bullshit &amp;amp; teammates &amp;amp; doc were interviewed, pierce was finally announced as the mvp &amp;amp; the trophy was officially handed over to the champs. after we took many pics of the ceremony we slowly departed the garden amongst a sea of elated fans. i concede that i was nervous about what we were going to encounter when we hit the streets of boston. it wasn't bad as people emptied the bars &amp;amp; gave us high fives as if we were celebrities having seen the unforgettable game. as we walked closer to the garage we saw the hundreds of police officers &amp;amp; a swat team standing in statue like unison. people overtook the streets with innocent celebration.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;we sat in the line of cars emptying the garage &amp;amp; upon exiting we made a huge oops. we took a turn down what we thought looked like a clear road which turned out to be nothing of the sort. along with only 3 other cars we were stuck in a very large crowd of revelers. soon we heard "click, clank, click, clank", looked to our left &amp;amp; saw the swat team walking &amp;amp; tapping their bats on the ground approaching the swarm. "uh oh" we both said with tones of fear. luckily police officers soon realized our predicament &amp;amp; cleared the way for us. we took deep sighs of relief &amp;amp; were on our way. as i look back on that, i just have to laugh! too friggin' funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;thanks c's for the memories... light one up red.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwBMoC2b4I/AAAAAAAAAC8/GLG06TxYqtk/s1600-h/c%27s+line+up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214043785007624066" style="WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 186px" height="186" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwBMoC2b4I/AAAAAAAAAC8/GLG06TxYqtk/s320/c%27s+line+up.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwBMzLNTDI/AAAAAAAAADE/7oLgzr8ONTY/s1600-h/la%27s+line+up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214043787995466802" style="WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 186px" height="186" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwBMzLNTDI/AAAAAAAAADE/7oLgzr8ONTY/s320/la%27s+line+up.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwBM0v_X4I/AAAAAAAAADM/coC6dEy4A00/s1600-h/c%27s+hoop.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwBM7tlemI/AAAAAAAAADU/QqxTayO7Xpg/s1600-h/celebrate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214043790287141474" style="WIDTH: 262px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 202px" height="184" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwBM7tlemI/AAAAAAAAADU/QqxTayO7Xpg/s320/celebrate.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwBM445e7I/AAAAAAAAADc/AFc8wZrOpg4/s1600-h/pierce.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214043789529283506" style="WIDTH: 271px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 202px" height="264" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwBM445e7I/AAAAAAAAADc/AFc8wZrOpg4/s320/pierce.jpg" width="305" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwCLtI9ZCI/AAAAAAAAAD0/5txFfkxBA5g/s1600-h/troph.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwCL1dS8NI/AAAAAAAAAD8/9mopBHZdI6s/s1600-h/jumbotron.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFzxxnmxlSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/4QLU5feIeYM/s1600-h/me+%2B+wu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214308303335691554" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFzxxnmxlSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/4QLU5feIeYM/s320/me+%2B+wu.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwEmt1SOnI/AAAAAAAAAEM/5L2pIx9mASY/s1600-h/rally.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214047531772820082" style="WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" height="213" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwEmt1SOnI/AAAAAAAAAEM/5L2pIx9mASY/s320/rally.JPG" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwEmpv377I/AAAAAAAAAEU/UvkUt-75rho/s1600-h/troph+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214047530676383666" style="WIDTH: 274px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 186px" height="213" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwEmpv377I/AAAAAAAAAEU/UvkUt-75rho/s320/troph+1.JPG" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nope, i didn't go to the rally... pics courtesy of wu who reported along the route, bitch :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7000222011781721298-2503910164259186778?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/2503910164259186778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/2503910164259186778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/world-champs-game-6.html' title='world champs.'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFwBMoC2b4I/AAAAAAAAAC8/GLG06TxYqtk/s72-c/c%27s+line+up.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-1392269737908131165</id><published>2008-06-17T09:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T10:49:28.726-04:00</updated><title type='text'>bottles = cool bags?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;okay, so i don't want to write a lot about this cool new company cuz i definitely want to write about it for a real media outlet at some point &amp;amp; well, you know the rules... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;anyway, got bottles? i have to confess, i do. with a household of little rascals, plastic bottles of all kinds pile up in our garage's makeshift recycling center &amp;amp; then my hub takes them to the dump where again, they pile up. &amp;amp; they're are not biodegradable, bummer. WELL, guess what... those very same bottles can be turned into friggin' very stylish eco-friendly bags! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3 chicks with so much combined brainpower it's scary, are the masterminds behind their new company - &lt;a href="http://www.wavyo.com/"&gt;wavyo&lt;/a&gt; [way-vy-o] - get it right &amp;amp; don't forget it cuz it's gonna be big. they have designed bags made out of composted plastic - recycled soda, water etc. bottles. the fabric feels like sturdy canvas. the girlies have designed &lt;a href="http://www.wavyo.com/pages/shop.html"&gt;versatile bag styles &lt;/a&gt;- big ones that can be used for grocery shopping &amp;amp; smaller ones that are oh so cute. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;on top of all the "go green", "eco-friendly" awesome stuff, the trio have added a fun twist on their creations. they will sell only 100 of each signed-by-the-artist (kim, tina or lucie), numbered bag &amp;amp; then offer new limited-edition styles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;i bought the &lt;a href="http://www.wavyo.com/pages/shop.html"&gt;Pasteur Nafnaf&lt;/a&gt; grocery bag &amp;amp; plan to buy more as new styles are concocted by the fabulous artistes. this doesn't mean you can let the guilt go about bottles just cuz you now know they can be turned into fashionable items. go easy on the bottles my friends. &amp;amp; the wavyo BFF's are doing their part &amp;amp; say that you'll be helping to change the world by carrying one of their bags!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;oh shit, i wrote a lot. wtf? oh well, i'll delete this post if i can get my raving wavyo review in a mag sometime soon. in the meantime, &lt;a href="http://www.wavyo.com/pages/shop.html"&gt;go buy a wavyo bag now&lt;/a&gt;, cuz i said so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;xo ~ j&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFfNBksJq9I/AAAAAAAAAC0/VXT8mEj9RUE/s1600-h/Gbag%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212860520617061330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFfNBksJq9I/AAAAAAAAAC0/VXT8mEj9RUE/s320/Gbag%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFfMe752NPI/AAAAAAAAACs/x-XWTbeZkwQ/s1600-h/2bags%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212859925553100018" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFfMe752NPI/AAAAAAAAACs/x-XWTbeZkwQ/s320/2bags%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;p.s. know chicks that have started their own company? congratulate each of them with this &lt;a href="http://www.lolasays.com/product.php?productid=83&amp;amp;cat=13&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;lola says card&lt;/a&gt;! congrats kimba, tina &amp;amp; lucie, you crazy ladies!  now go drink some more wine... OH, there's another card tie-in for sure... &lt;a href="http://www.lolasays.com/product.php?productid=134&amp;amp;cat=68&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;a glass of wine please&lt;/a&gt;. hee hee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7000222011781721298-1392269737908131165?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/1392269737908131165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/1392269737908131165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/bottles-cool-bags.html' title='bottles = cool bags?'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFfNBksJq9I/AAAAAAAAAC0/VXT8mEj9RUE/s72-c/Gbag%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-6610629411564193754</id><published>2008-06-14T10:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T11:21:07.022-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fabulous Hoops.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;okay, so no, i'm not talking about friggin' earrings my friends. when i say hoops, i mean basketball. yes, it's true. as my tv is taken over by pbs &amp;amp; the disney channel, i have not been able to watch any of the boston celtics playoff games, none. so you may be surprised to hear that i actually attended game 2 of the finals. yes, i was in the garden as the celtics beat the lakers by 6 points. as i visited a friend in the north end before the game, she was all "you have to wear green".  we scoured the souvenir shops in my old hood when we saw it - an adorable green tank that was simply adorned with fab rhinestones that spelled out "boston" on the front. 10 bucks, grabbed 2 of them, mission accomplished. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;then over to the garden to meet my friend Janet. i felt guilty as we found our seats. i was dumbfounded by the sea of green in the stands. there i was at the coveted game while major fans had to watch on tv at home. but as the game began, i was all... fuck that, &amp;amp; the friggin' guilt vanished into the exhilarating stadium air. i jumped around, high-fived, danced &amp;amp; used my binoculars to celebrity search. it was an absolute blast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;i'm not sure, but i think schilling gave me a wave, big pappi gave me a wink &amp;amp; donny walhberg gave us a "hang tough" shout out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;but, i have to admit we made a major, major oops. as they were kicking la's ass by like 15-20 points, we decided to beat the traffic &amp;amp; bounce about 3 minutes early. as we parted ways, i walked down friend street towards the government center garage. i pondered. why are those other fans that left the garden early frantically watching the rest of the game through bar windows that lined the street? soon a guy said to me "it's a 2 point game ya know", i stopped in my tracks &amp;amp; was all "are you fucking kidding me?" &amp;amp; he was all "no, dead serious". i called Janet &amp;amp; broke the news. after a few phone calls back &amp;amp; forth to gather info., we were relieved to hear that the celts held on &amp;amp; got the w. phew. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;i think i'll stay until the very end next time. it's what a true fan would do. &amp;amp; if the "IF NECESSARY" game 6 is necessary, i'm there, in green, guilt friggin' free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFPcIRwjnBI/AAAAAAAAACg/_h4sAEEJJBE/s1600-h/celts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211751228561923090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFPcIRwjnBI/AAAAAAAAACg/_h4sAEEJJBE/s320/celts.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;p.s. it was friggin' hot in the city but the ac'd garden &amp;amp; the humongous cup of diet coke j bought me gave an awesome chill.  i thought... beautiful summer is on its way.  so buy this &lt;a href="http://www.jtreacydesigns.com/product.php?productid=338&amp;amp;cat=16&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;lola says card &lt;/a&gt;for a friend to celebrate the season.  good times.&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/7000222011781721298-6610629411564193754?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/6610629411564193754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/6610629411564193754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/06/fabulous-hoops.html' title='Fabulous Hoops.'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SFPcIRwjnBI/AAAAAAAAACg/_h4sAEEJJBE/s72-c/celts.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-6888057092821829704</id><published>2008-05-31T10:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T11:58:35.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>SATC mayhem!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;okay, so i was not one of the billion chicks across the country that went to the sex &amp;amp; the city premiere last night. priorities my friends... feeding &amp;amp; bathing my kiddos as my hubbie, an investment consultant, worked telling people what to do with their $. his profession is pretty ironic considering that his wife likes to spend the $ while he is glued to the ticker wanting to invest it. anyway, even though i really knew i would most likely not be able to trek into town to meet my gals &amp;amp; go see the infamous movie, i entered a contest that Twilight Boutique had to win tickets. although all you had to do to enter was reply to an email with your name, address &amp;amp; phone #, i of course had to include a rhyming diatribe:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i lived in boston for many years&lt;br /&gt;a single chick having fun with no fears&lt;br /&gt;watching SATC was a ritual&lt;br /&gt;drinking cosmos became habitual&lt;br /&gt;but now i am living in the woods in new hampsha&lt;br /&gt;big wig ad exec turned stay at home mom, whateva&lt;br /&gt;i love my life but oh how i miss the city&lt;br /&gt;please pick me, for the winner promo shots i'll look so pretty&lt;br /&gt;i love twilight, you supply my collection of blings&lt;br /&gt;pick me, i have uber chic friends to bring&lt;br /&gt;i'll even wear a replica of carrie's green hat, fabulous&lt;br /&gt;want to get twilight mega publicity? just pick us!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;can you believe i didn't win the tix? i'm sure they thought i was some freaky crazy nh red neck wearing flannel with a mouth full of rotten teeth (no offense my fellow nh natives, but come on, you know that's our rep).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;BUT i was happy that someone appreciated my effort... Alison O'Leary Murray editor of &lt;a href="http://www.cnccreative.com/skirtboston/index.html"&gt;skirt! magazine boston &lt;/a&gt;emailed me asking if she could maybe include my rant in her blog... Alison my friend, absofuckinlutely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SEFtbZqlkRI/AAAAAAAAACI/RMdAsbmd2d8/s1600-h/sex_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206562961730408722" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SEFtbZqlkRI/AAAAAAAAACI/RMdAsbmd2d8/s320/sex_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.cnccreative.com/skirtboston/index.html"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206562970320343330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SEFtb5qlkSI/AAAAAAAAACQ/9gpOlXM4Kvk/s320/skirtart%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;p.s. the fab 4 are absolute inspiration, get out of the house girlies! send this &lt;a href="http://www.jtreacydesigns.com/home.php?cat=68"&gt;"it's time for a girl's night out" lola says card &lt;/a&gt;&amp;amp; make it happen... more, more, more, how do ya like it, how do ya like it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7000222011781721298-6888057092821829704?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/6888057092821829704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/6888057092821829704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/05/satc-mayhem.html' title='SATC mayhem!'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SEFtbZqlkRI/AAAAAAAAACI/RMdAsbmd2d8/s72-c/sex_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-8879351314094401018</id><published>2008-05-17T09:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T09:52:58.447-04:00</updated><title type='text'>jeans - retail therapy...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;okay so i admit that i will, on occasion, spend big bucks on a trendy brand name pair of jeans. they have magical abilities to suck in the flab, push up the ass &amp;amp; somehow make my 5'5" short bod look a little taller. the nicest jean-whizy gals at &lt;a href="http://www.injeanius.com/"&gt;in-jean-ius &lt;/a&gt;on hanover street in boston remember you, your size, what you've purchased in the past... so, shortly upon entering the shop, you're in their dressing room trying on the newest, fabulous arrivals, end up not being able to decide which pair to buy &amp;amp; always solve the problem by just buying them all. OH, &amp;amp; while transacting, there's the fun baubles &amp;amp; blings at the counter, so total impulse items are quickly added to the purchase. most likely, you then have to get the beloved jeans tailored (if you're short like me). so off to my brilliant italian tailor in the north end i go. he looks at the price tag, shakes his head, checks out the hem &amp;amp; says "i fixa my way". ba-da-bing. jean retail therapy session an absolute &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SC77738D9WI/AAAAAAAAABY/1Fi0Za7LS_I/s1600-h/jeans-bar%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;success!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SC7_dX8D9bI/AAAAAAAAACA/M1BSthAnr94/s1600-h/jeans-bar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201375499766724018" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SC7_dX8D9bI/AAAAAAAAACA/M1BSthAnr94/s400/jeans-bar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;hee hee,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;jennifer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;xo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;p.s. know a chick that's in dire need of some &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jtreacydesigns.com/product.php?productid=117&amp;amp;cat=67&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;retail therapy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;? get her this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jtreacydesigns.com/product.php?productid=117&amp;amp;cat=67&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;lola says card &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;asap!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7000222011781721298-8879351314094401018?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/8879351314094401018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/8879351314094401018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/05/jeans-retail-therapy.html' title='jeans - retail therapy...'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SC7_dX8D9bI/AAAAAAAAACA/M1BSthAnr94/s72-c/jeans-bar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-4496985338221719240</id><published>2008-05-11T15:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T17:16:11.351-04:00</updated><title type='text'>don't be a lame baby gift giver...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;wtf is up with some of the gifts people give at baby showers? i mean, how many friggin' pink frilly dresses size 3-6 months is a baby girl going to wear? i hate having to "oooh", "aaah" &amp;amp; "aaaw" at the lamest shit &amp;amp; watching the poor mom-2-b put on an oscar worthy performance by pretending she loves the crap. pregos register for gifts at stores &lt;em&gt;they like&lt;/em&gt;, for stuff &lt;em&gt;they like&lt;/em&gt; &amp;amp; stuff &lt;em&gt;they need&lt;/em&gt;... so here's a novel idea... &lt;em&gt;buy that stuff!&lt;/em&gt; okay so you may not think a humidifier is a cool gift but guess what, babies need one of those! if you want to add something to your registry purchase, don't be lame. for just 16 bucks get a &lt;strong&gt;hilarious personalized onesie&lt;/strong&gt; from &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mitetees.com/index.php"&gt;Mitetees&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. it won't elicit fake "oooh's" &amp;amp; aaah's". genuine laughter is the guaranteed reaction, the prego won't have to put on a performance &amp;amp; one less frilly dress will have to be returned. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SCdcRX8D9UI/AAAAAAAAABI/PcXX4lsLlWg/s1600-h/beantown_lg%5B1%5D.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199225748375991618" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SCdcRX8D9UI/AAAAAAAAABI/PcXX4lsLlWg/s200/beantown_lg%5B1%5D.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SCdcRn8D9VI/AAAAAAAAABQ/4Y_-z1E68RE/s1600-h/run_lg%5B1%5D.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199225752670958930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SCdcRn8D9VI/AAAAAAAAABQ/4Y_-z1E68RE/s200/run_lg%5B1%5D.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;p.s. don't give a lame card either.  give a &lt;a href="http://www.jtreacydesigns.com/home.php?cat=8"&gt;lola says baby shower card&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SCdcRn8D9VI/AAAAAAAAABQ/4Y_-z1E68RE/s1600-h/run_lg%5B1%5D.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SCdcRn8D9VI/AAAAAAAAABQ/4Y_-z1E68RE/s1600-h/run_lg%5B1%5D.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7000222011781721298-4496985338221719240?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/4496985338221719240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/4496985338221719240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/05/dont-be-lame-baby-gift-giver.html' title='don&apos;t be a lame baby gift giver...'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SCdcRX8D9UI/AAAAAAAAABI/PcXX4lsLlWg/s72-c/beantown_lg%5B1%5D.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7000222011781721298.post-2568619638235702327</id><published>2008-04-28T10:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T11:52:30.858-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Unforgettable - The Boston Marathon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Last Monday, I ran the Boston Marathon for the 1st time. Here's a list of funny stuff I reme&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SBXyyBxXe9I/AAAAAAAAABA/wbtXLARJkOI/s1600-h/024+-+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194324686524611538" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SBXyyBxXe9I/AAAAAAAAABA/wbtXLARJkOI/s200/024+-+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;mber about running the infamous race:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~a runner wearing a big, fake, plastic bum. why?, why i ask?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~a runner's t-shirt saying "if found, bring to the finish line", funny!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;~adidas ads along the route, brilliant. one read "runner's high: legal in all states", 'nough said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~high pitched screams of beautiful Wellesley chicks, had to cover my ears! but thx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~thinking that the "heart break hill" you hear about is total bs, cuz there's not just one of them, there are about 20.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~being offered so much stuff by the spectators.. oranges etc., but wondering "what the hell is that?" to some of the stuff... i had no idea. but thanks to the guy with the big jar of jelly beans! yum. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;~smelling beer that permeated the air in Brookline where college kids lined the streets. thank god none of them offered me some of that cuz definitely would have taken it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many more. but the best memory of all was running the marathon for Children's Hospital Boston and for my patient partner, Dante. That's what it was all about...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo ~ jennifer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SF0iqnqE0VI/AAAAAAAAAEk/IkS9AlRrWL8/s1600-h/me+%26+K+-+marathon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214362059160211794" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SF0iqnqE0VI/AAAAAAAAAEk/IkS9AlRrWL8/s320/me+%26+K+-+marathon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;p.s. if you know a chick that has run a marathon, you must congratulate her with this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jtreacydesigns.com/product.php?productid=71&amp;amp;cat=0&amp;amp;page=1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;lola says card&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;! i mean, she ran friggin' 26.2 miles, holy crap! the least you can do is spend $2.75 on a card for her! :)&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/7000222011781721298-2568619638235702327?l=lolasaysblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/2568619638235702327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7000222011781721298/posts/default/2568619638235702327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolasaysblog.blogspot.com/2008/04/last-monday-i-ran-boston-marathon-for.html' title='Unforgettable - The Boston Marathon'/><author><name>lolasays.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11049900803703658840</uri><email>jennifer@lolasays.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12911034614876622529'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_eVgMQ9Z0U80/SBXyyBxXe9I/AAAAAAAAABA/wbtXLARJkOI/s72-c/024+-+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>