<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:48:14.881-07:00</updated><category term='bracelet'/><category term='goals'/><category term='valentines'/><category term='camera'/><title type='text'>JustAroundTheCorner</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>54</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-253149730164443978</id><published>2008-12-19T22:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T22:42:49.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Little Angel</title><content type='html'>Thursday started out like every other day. I got up, got dressed and hurried out the door. It wasn't raining and I was happy over that because traffic should be normal. I was zipping down the interstate, Michael Jackson had just come on the radio and I was looking forward to singing that I was a vegetable ~what can I say, it makes me laugh~. I was in the left hand lane and just passing an off ramp when I noticed a car behind me getting a bit close. I looked in my side mirror then checked over my shoulder then started to move over. When I looked over as I was moving there was a white truck there. I have no clue where he came from I just know he was not there when I first started moving over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I panicked. I jerked the wheel to the left to get back in my lane but it was too much. My car started skidding. It was weaving out of control and there were still people zooming past me. I was fighting it left and right to try and get it straight and to not hit anyone. At one point it when on the shoulder and felt like it was going to flip only to right it's self and start to spin. At some point I grazed something and started spinning more. When I stopped I was facing the wrong way, in the left hand lane, bumper to bumper with a lady who had the same scared &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;shitless&lt;/span&gt; expression on her face. I couldn't move. All I could do was look up and see all the cars moving around me, all the trucks that swerved to miss me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to get my car started again and over to the side of the road. Along with me there were two other cars that were messed up. One was the lady behind me and the other was the truck that hit her. No where in site was the white truck that had started all this mess. I jumped out of my car and did a quick look just to make sure that everything was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. Believe it or not there was no body damage to my car. There was a black rubber spot on the back bumper but that was it. My right front tire was ate up and the steel was showing out of it but other than that nothing. The other lady was not so lucky. Her trunk was smashed and the guy in the truck had damage to the front of his truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did take the state trooper forever to get there but one he did he determined that there were two wrecks and that mine was considered a hit and run. I wasn't at fault for the other wreck and they didn't take my info but he did give me a ticket for improper lane usage. At first I was a bit pissed over it because that truck was NOT there but now, honestly, I'm just happy to be alive and have my car in one piece. I'm looking at my $75 as a donation to the PD and letting it go at that. Physically, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. My back is super stiff and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; brush my hair this morning. I have a pulled muscle in my left shoulder and a bruise across my foot but other than that nothing on the outside. Now the inside is another story. I just keep seeing those cars. I just keep hearing the sound of the cars hitting. I just keep thinking "what if" and it scares me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That pretty much says it all right there doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, thank you, little angel, for watching over me. I needed a shake to get me out of the December funk that I was sinking into but next time could you do it with less of a spin?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-253149730164443978?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/253149730164443978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=253149730164443978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/253149730164443978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/253149730164443978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/12/hello-little-angel.html' title='Hello Little Angel'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-3774031355232570417</id><published>2008-09-15T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T21:31:26.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Full Contact Knitting</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;When I'm upset, worried or sick I knit. It makes me feel better. It takes my mind off everything and I just sit and count stitches. I don't think I have kept but one of the scarves that I have ever knitted and that was only because it was my first one and it was more of a learning thing. Every other scarf, and I only knit scarves right now, have been so tied up with hate or tears or worry that I cant stand to have them around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only real pleasure I get from my scarves is the amount of help that I get knitting them. When I pull out the needles I am fair game for the tribe. Usually when I knit I have my ipod on and I have a bad habit of tapping my toe to the music. It's my way of granny rocking while I knit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM8u-md6f9I/AAAAAAAAAJU/NPM3W6XWpxs/s1600-h/toes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246463743922700242" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM8u-md6f9I/AAAAAAAAAJU/NPM3W6XWpxs/s320/toes.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;This seems to annoy Tank, because he likes to wrap his claw into my toe to make me stop tapping. I have to give him credit it works like a charm. Notice he gets me in the up tap motion so that I can relax my foot. Oh I can but his claw comes out and it's just easier to stay still.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My next helper is Biggie Big. I'm not sure how he does it but he can get himself in a tangle quicker than anything. God love him he's just such a squishy bear that I can stay mad at him for long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM8wDPenHcI/AAAAAAAAAJc/LZ61f7V97us/s1600-h/Biggie+and+the+Yarn.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246464923162582466" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM8wDPenHcI/AAAAAAAAAJc/LZ61f7V97us/s320/Biggie+and+the+Yarn.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;OK, I can't help myself I do usually poke him in the belly with the needles just to watch him roll around. He is my big ole weebles kitty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other helper I have is a sneaky devil. He acts like he is not watching then he will pounce when I put my work down. He loves the needles and if I'm not fast enough he will carry them off. I give you Pepito the Pain the the Butt Kitty. Good thing he is cute or he would be Pepito the Live Outside Kitty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246466397850593714" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM8xZFHoabI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Hr5Ln4JX3FM/s320/Loving+the+Needles.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM8xZn2OepI/AAAAAAAAAJs/o4lgeB92K3k/s1600-h/Pepito+being+cute.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246466407172831890" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM8xZn2OepI/AAAAAAAAAJs/o4lgeB92K3k/s320/Pepito+being+cute.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I love this picture of Pete. He just has that "F You I have YOUR thread" look on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you think knitting is fun with this crew you should try sleeping, or eating, or reading....tell me again why I have cats???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM8zQQY3TNI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/aISIx7t5op4/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246468445280095442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM8zQQY3TNI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/aISIx7t5op4/s320/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Oh yeah, I remember now :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-3774031355232570417?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3774031355232570417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=3774031355232570417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/3774031355232570417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/3774031355232570417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/09/full-contact-knitting.html' title='Full Contact Knitting'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM8u-md6f9I/AAAAAAAAAJU/NPM3W6XWpxs/s72-c/toes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-2216185322018691451</id><published>2008-09-14T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T18:46:46.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bit About Me</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I tend to over exaggerate. Sometimes I tend to play the poor me card. Sometimes I'm a bit of a drama hag. Sometimes I tend to really feel sorry for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is NOT one of those times. I have been telling people, for a week now, that I have hives. I have been telling them that it itches all the way down to the bone and back again and they tend to look at me like I was a titch bit crazy &lt;em&gt;~which I am, from the F'in ITCHING~&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So y'all have forced to do this. As much as I hate to show this, here it goes. These are my hives after 3 days worth of rest and medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM28NRzwmoI/AAAAAAAAAI8/cpWthMNXf18/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246056077261314690" style="WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" height="237" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM28NRzwmoI/AAAAAAAAAI8/cpWthMNXf18/s320/003.JPG" width="313" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM278EgEiXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/zVGMz-FrbNc/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246055781631297906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM278EgEiXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/zVGMz-FrbNc/s320/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;You may all start to feel sorry for me and and please send flower and oreo's!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: To the one who laughed...I hope your nipple falls OFF!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-2216185322018691451?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2216185322018691451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=2216185322018691451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2216185322018691451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2216185322018691451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/09/bit-about-me.html' title='A Bit About Me'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SM28NRzwmoI/AAAAAAAAAI8/cpWthMNXf18/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-4007109599939472529</id><published>2008-09-09T23:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T23:19:22.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>F Word</title><content type='html'>Oh yes, THE F WORD times 3 million and 6. I have hives and I am fixing to lose my mind. This shit started Monday night. I got in from the bookstore at 11:30 and fell into bed. By 3 I was up and scratching like crazy. I had nightmares that I had fleas all over and and was freaking out because of the itch. I pulled everything in my room apart, sprayed for fleas and went back to bed all skived out. When I woke up at 6 am I had red welts all over my thighs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLEAS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really freaking out. I went into work and just sat there digging at my skin. It was not getting better. As matter of fact it got worse and it was spreading. Now I knew we did not have fleas at work so that did make me feel better and these were more lumps not bites which scared me and made me even more itchy. I drove my poor Co-worker crazy today with my whine over it but, honestly, it's horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get home, I take a shower with some goats milk soap (because it was the mildest thing I had and it was a good excuse to rub myself) and I went to bed. Guess what? It's 1 AM and I am wide awake scratching the blood out of my arms and legs. Yup, if I could just hit bone I would feel so much better. My ass is on fire from this stuff too. It was so bad that I went in and doused down with alcohol just to get some relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not such a good idea. Do you know what happens when you put alcohol on skin that you have scraped raw? Really, I'm fine. I just clung to the bathroom ceiling for about 10 minutes crying and cussing, that's all. So now what to do? Do I put pants and a bra on and go to the emergency room and get a shot in my ass? Do I put pants on and go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wal&lt;/span&gt; mart and self doctor myself? Do I go get a glass or 8 of wine and go to bed and pray that I can get the blood out of my sheets? Do I just sit here and cry while scratching my ass with the dog brush? (WHAT? She will never know)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that I want my mama!! I want her to wash all my stuff with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dreft&lt;/span&gt; and give me tomato soup and to cluck and fuss over me while she rubs lotion on me. I want Popsicles dammit because that was her sure fire cure for all that ailed me! I think really I just want the clucking and fussing....and a dog brush with stiffer bristles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-4007109599939472529?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/4007109599939472529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=4007109599939472529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4007109599939472529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4007109599939472529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/09/f-word.html' title='F Word'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7634592681984430669</id><published>2008-09-07T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T20:03:20.081-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Some how I have got myself mixed up with a gang. I kid you not. These folks are crazy and they wear the colors. Some wear red but most wear pink. Oh yes, we are a gang of Red Hatters or Pink Hatters, if you please. We are pretty much harmless and our main goal is to go out to eat some place fabulous and different each time we get together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday night our pick was The Boat House in Forest Park. I can not even begin to say how much fun we had. We started the night out with appetizers and drinks and ended it with a desert that would have made you dance nekkid with happiness. ~&lt;em&gt;umm that could have been the drinks but the desert was pretty damn tasty and NO I didn't get nekkid&lt;/em&gt;~ Did I mention the main course? To die for!!! I had the fish and chips and it was perfect. Now not only did we get dinner we also were treated to some live entertainment. There was a band which was pretty good I guess but to be honest I didn't really listen to them and they were more of background music but there were also DUCKS. Yup, ducks just walked on up to the table and begged for food. It was amusing even when they pooped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So enough talk lets get to the pictures because they are my favorite part.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://wmg.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://wmg.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/Boat House/2c7ad3bf.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/Boat%20House/?action=view&amp;current=2c7ad3bf.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7634592681984430669?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7634592681984430669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7634592681984430669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7634592681984430669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7634592681984430669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/09/friday-night-fun.html' title='Friday Night Fun'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7010808517818589656</id><published>2008-09-04T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T16:38:26.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello World</title><content type='html'>We &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;interrupt&lt;/span&gt; this blog for reading. I swear I have been meaning to come over here and update but I am so into a book right now all I can think of is getting home and falling into its pages. What is so weird is that it's just a silly romance book that I picked up one night just because I liked the front cover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, baby, I do so judge a book by it's cover...sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;reading&lt;/span&gt; The Last Mermaid by Shana Abe. (If anyone wants to read this just leave me a comment and I will be happy to send it to you when I finish...as long as you are in the US)  It's actually 3 books in one, same style, same author just a different story about the clan as they move forward in time. I'm not sure why I am so mesmerized over this book but it has me and wont let me go till I finish it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So give me a couple days and then we will take a trip back in time and  take a trip to the MO Botanical Gardens as well as I have an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;awesome&lt;/span&gt; picture to share from my ride home the other night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is that for a tease??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7010808517818589656?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7010808517818589656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7010808517818589656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7010808517818589656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7010808517818589656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/09/hello-world.html' title='Hello World'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-3652854579857584169</id><published>2008-08-27T22:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T23:05:06.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Swear</title><content type='html'>I swear I was going to bed early tonight. Wow, I was totally surprised to look down and see that it is now 12:48 AM. Holy shit, this might explain why my eyes are all itchy scratchy. I'm bright *snort*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about some random stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thing 1 started school tonight. He is so happy. His first class was an intro to film class and all they do is watch movies. This is so right up his alley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on an upswing at work. Every thing is rosy and I don't have the urge to kill anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom cracks me up. I called her on the way home and just BS'd with her. It's weird but for some reason I use to only call her once a week, even though we had cell phones. Now, for no reason I will just pick up and talk to her. Amazing how really funny she is. I don't remember her being that way when I lived with her *L*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am back to reading trashy romance. I have a new book, The Brass Bed, and lord have mercy it is trashy. They even say the F word. Gracious. And this shocks a person that reads about man nipples? (anita blake)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still sad that I'm home from ISOCAN. I really do miss having someone make my bed for me every day. Coco You Bitch needs to learn to do this and earn her keep around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can not wait until Sunday. We, which would be Me, Thing 1 and his girlfriend, are going to the St. Louis Botanical Gardens for the Japanese Festival. SUMO...that's all I have to say for right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thing one is very handy to have around. He was playing with my camera and found a couple neat features that I didn't know about. I need to start with the picture posts. Everyone wants to see a cazillion pictures of cats looking stoned and laying on the bed right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok I need sleep or I'm going to be cranky tomorrow and I'm really trying hard not to be cranky at work. My theory is they wont hit the cheerful girl. My theories have been proven wrong before but it's worth a try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night Stoned Cats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SLY-_R60yAI/AAAAAAAAAIc/5fcixZhuXk0/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239444473354962946" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SLY-_R60yAI/AAAAAAAAAIc/5fcixZhuXk0/s320/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Stoned...they always looked pissed off and stoned&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-3652854579857584169?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3652854579857584169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=3652854579857584169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/3652854579857584169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/3652854579857584169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-swear.html' title='I Swear'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SLY-_R60yAI/AAAAAAAAAIc/5fcixZhuXk0/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-1031847478555792504</id><published>2008-08-24T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T22:18:29.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back</title><content type='html'>and what a normal day it was. I think today was the first back to normal day I have had in a month. What with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pissy&lt;/span&gt; being in, getting ready for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ISOCAN&lt;/span&gt;, the raging case of pinkeye, going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ISOCAN&lt;/span&gt; and coming back home it has just been hectic to say the least. Don't get me wrong it has been a ton of fun but I'm ready for routine again. Yes, I am very much a creature of habit and I get overwhelmed when I am out of my space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was so in my space it was not even funny. I got up, went to the bookstore, chatted up and pretty much made a fool of myself around all the customers, went to the store, came home and read until Thing 1 and his girlfriend came over. To me, this was a perfect day. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I do find it odd that I can laugh and joke around with strangers at the bookstore but I had such a hard time at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ISOCAN&lt;/span&gt;. Don't get me wrong I had a ton of fun and I met a LOT of great people but it was just so hard to be me. I sat back and watched a lot. I have never been shy like I was there. It was still fun and I would go again, that's for sure but I would not be a wallflower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I would go just so I could have someone make my bed every day again. I loved this. What a luxury to have someone come in and straighten up for you. I really need to get my fiances in order and have someone do that for me. Seriously, I think that could be my paper thing....or maybe not but it is my fantasy now....that and s e x but that is for another topic and another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did pick up a couple new books this weekend. I grabbed another Anita Blake novel and the boy was in heaven. I did not even get it all the way out of the bag before he had it out of my hand and was into the first chapter. He is so funny with them.  It really does my heart good to sit and watch him read. I love how his emotions play over his face....but don't tell him that. He doesn't know that I watch him like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other big news at the bookstore is that they asked me to host the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Eragon&lt;/span&gt; party. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Eeekkk&lt;/span&gt;. I know it's not going to be a Breaking Dawn party but still it makes me nervous. The good news is there are only about 130 people signed up for the book so it will not be as wild at 300 squealing girls....I will miss that *L* I need to start checking around to see what kind of things other stores are doing. NO, I am not stealing I am just getting ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;OOHHH&lt;/span&gt; and I did get the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; for my last book discussion for the Twilight Series. I saw one of MY girls today and she was really really excited about it too. I can not wait to hear what they have to say about the last book. Yeah, yeah, I'm a goober and it's not so much about the books as about the discussion that goes with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; tomorrow is going to be a long day and I have to work at both places so I'm off to bed...my unmade bed, with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;unfluffed&lt;/span&gt; pillows and the ratty cat who loves me even if I do kiss her too much and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;scratch&lt;/span&gt; her when she is trying to sleep. *chuckling* she has no idea how well loved she is....lucky ole cat. Off to bed now...night all...sleep well!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-1031847478555792504?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1031847478555792504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=1031847478555792504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/1031847478555792504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/1031847478555792504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/08/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-2499641552335108824</id><published>2008-08-20T06:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T06:56:10.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Really Terrible Very Bad Day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I kept telling everyone at work that something bad was going to happen. I just had that feeling of doom. I drove careful to work, I watched what I was doing, I put it out there to the universe to please let me be wrong but the feeling would not go away. Last night when I got home the feeling was even worse, there was just something not right. All was fine at the house. All the cats were roaming around, Coco You Bitch was running wild and acting the fool but something was wrong. When I walked into the bedroom I could smell my grandmother. Something bad happens every time Grandma shows up. Have I mentioned that my grandmother died 18 years ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well something bad did happen. Sometime during the night my baby kitty died. He was fine last night but this morning he was gone. I found him all curled up like he was still asleep. I lost it. It just tears me up that he died. So I'm sitting here at work, squalling like a big ole baby, and just wanting to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep well Little Jack Jack...I will miss you tons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-2499641552335108824?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2499641552335108824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=2499641552335108824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2499641552335108824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2499641552335108824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/08/really-terrible-very-bad-day.html' title='Really Terrible Very Bad Day'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-8556443184881339456</id><published>2008-07-16T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T21:43:20.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>364 More Days</title><content type='html'>until Paris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WILL be in Paris for my 45th Birthday. I know I'm really sucky with goals but this one I have to keep. I deserve it!! I love Paris better than anything. Just walking around the city makes me smile. I don't have to be going anywhere as long as I'm there it's all ok. I think it's a fine goal to make for a birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm in the birthday mode because mine just passed. Mama always said I had to arrive on a payday because that was the only way they could afford me.  July 15, 1964, 44 years ago yesterday. Wow that is a lifetime....my life time. As far as birthdays go yesterday was the pits. It's not the worst I have had but it comes close. I did get well wishes from the co-workers, an ice cream cake, my mom, the boys and the ex called, the cousin &lt;em&gt;~waves at Mitchie just in case she decides to read this~&lt;/em&gt; and a couple of friends emailed or im'd. That's a lot right? The Phantom didn't remember. Why should he right? Yes, I'm feeling sorry for myself and I need to stop it right now. I guess it just showed me how unimportant I am to him. For 7 years I have remembered his birthday. Through bad times and suck times I always remember and if I didn't send him anything I sure as hell told him Happy Birthday Baby. Did I get that? No. Did I get upset? Yes. Has he called back? NO. Will I answer the phone if he does? Well actually No I guess I wont. Not because I don't want to but because my cell phone broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like how I did that one? &lt;/em&gt;Last night my cell phone bit the big one. I'm just happy death came to visit it and not me. I had the odd feeling that death might have slipped or missed and accidentaly touched the cell phone. Eeek! So anyway, the cell died. It will light up on the bottom but the screen doesn't work. After much punching of the buttons and cussing sometimes I can get it to come on but only for about 20 minutes then it powers down. It makes me cuss greatly. It makes me cuss so much that on my way home I stopped at the sprint store and had them order me a new phone. I cried and whined a bit and tried to talk them into upgrading but had no luck with that but I did get rid of the icky red phone and I now have a silver one coming. I know lack of color is boring but I hated the red thing for some reason. It just looked....cheap. The bad news is my phone will not be here until Tuesday so I'm phoneless for the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEY I just realized that with the cell gone now I cant even take pictures even shitty cell phone pictures. This makes me sad because I'm having a small house party and Saturday and would like to get a few shots. Also the room is almost done and I would like to show that off. I have all the walls painted now and it does look pretty. It's a bit more blue than I would like but it's still cute. It does make the room look so much bigger now. I can not wait to get the bed up and get it all put together. I want to go in tomorrow and touch up and I need to do around the ceiling also then that will be done. This weekend I plan on getting that bed done and painted and up while I have help in town. Pissy is coming to town to see the boys and he said he would help me get the furniture up from the basement and get the chest painted for the room. He is also going to bring my grandmothers table up from the basement and take the tile table downstairs for me. It is going to look so good once I get it all together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok,  it's late and I'm tired and I really was pushing it saying as much as I did. Actually I just wanted to whine and it did make me feel better so all it ok again. Night all, sweet dreams and send good vibes my way that I don't kill my ex while he is in town.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-8556443184881339456?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8556443184881339456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=8556443184881339456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/8556443184881339456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/8556443184881339456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/07/364-more-days.html' title='364 More Days'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-8382884230881462978</id><published>2008-07-13T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T21:35:12.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>I'm still in love with the door. Yes, it remains closed until tomorrow. I'm going to be a bad person and float a check so I can get some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kiltz&lt;/span&gt;. Something has to kill that blue color. It's my only hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have 4 days to get that room painted and get my house cleaned before my company arrives. Shit, I might be in trouble. Wonder if I could just convince them that a robbery happened and I have to leave it untouched until he police are through. I'm pretty sure that I can get some of that yellow do not cross tape and really make it look good. How about a chalk body outline in the living room. I think my company might just not stay as long as planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My back key is sticking. It's making me crazy. I am the worst &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;typist&lt;/span&gt; in the world and need that back key. I have to pretty much contort and use another finger to make it work. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;, maybe it's my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;pinkie&lt;/span&gt; that's bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They got my Breaking Dawn press kit at the bookstore and the buttons are AWESOME!!! I can not wait until August 1st so that I can give them out. Kind of pisses me off that one of the managers already got one but then again he is more of a teenage girl over these books than I am. It was suggested that I MIGHT get a T-shirt out of the deal. BONUS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a fun weekend at the Bookstore. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood and the customers were pretty normal. I did have one lady get in a snit over the rewards card. I had scanned it because she had $95 worth of points on there. SHIT, makes my heart hurt to see a person throw that away. She said, "I TOLD YOU That I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; want it" I said, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; well you can just throw it away if you like or I can throw it away for you ." I snatched it up and put it to the side. About 5 customers later I did a bad bad thing. I had a very very nice man come in and he was all about the rewards program. I kind of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sorta&lt;/span&gt; picked up that card instead of a new card and scanned his purchase on it and then put his info. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ooopps&lt;/span&gt;! So sorry Bookstore it was an honest mistake.  PS: Fuck you snotty lady!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a small war going on at my house. FLEAS. ~&lt;em&gt;holy crap, I am all with the swollen fonts tonight. Way too much sugar today ~ &lt;/em&gt;I have sprayed and scrubbed and thrown everyone in the bathtub, the poor dog twice in the last 2 days. The fleas are still there but I think the animals may be plotting my death. The dog is pissed over the situation. I have the only lab that hates the water and is scared of pops and bangs. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have less then 5 weeks to get my stuff together for Chicago. Can I tell you how excited I am to be going. I can not wait to meet these ladies and to just hang out and have fun. Is it odd that I feel like I'm going to meet a group of old friends not meeting new ones? I really, really do need a new camera before then. Life with just a camera phone SUCKS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a cat sleeping on my butt. Just thought I would let y'all know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my hair cut off on Friday. Today I love it but Friday I cried all the way home. It was scary sad looking. I kind of looked like the singer from A Flock Of Seagulls. I had that same dried out hair look that he had also. Now it just kind of cute floppy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's now an hour past my bedtime and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;craky&lt;/span&gt; tomorrow. Yeah, that should make for a fun day in Hell. I'm off to bed...if only the cat will get off my butt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-8382884230881462978?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8382884230881462978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=8382884230881462978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/8382884230881462978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/8382884230881462978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/07/randomness.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-1145078117020032239</id><published>2008-07-06T21:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:22:29.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Painting: Day 3</title><content type='html'>or...Door, oh door, how I love thee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have discovered the best tool ever in procrastination. The door. I love the door. I shut the door. I look at the door and think, "Nothing in there I want to see" . Thank you door and who ever invented the door...god bless you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, there has been a bit of a glitch in painting at Casa de Flynn. The glitch being that the painter up and quit, that bitch. I don't know what her problem is ~&lt;em&gt;ok, I got a new book from the bookstore and it distracted me all night~ &lt;/em&gt;but come Tuesday I am dragging her ass back into that back bedroom and starting again. A friend of mine did suggest that I go get some Kiltz. I interpreted this as go get a man in a kilt and that sounded like a better plan. I could just sit on the bed eating bon bons and blog about my room getting painted while a blading, slightly overweight painter does his best to work magic on the walls &lt;em&gt;~ok, not a lot of Scotts around here so I'm pretty sure I will have to pay the for hire painters extra to work in a kilt~&lt;/em&gt; All in all this sounds like a good idea except for the fact that A) I don't have the money to pay someone to paint for me and B) I'm broken and don't have the money to pay someone to paint for me. Sucks to be po ~&lt;em&gt;po: so poor that you can't even afford the o r~&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is really funny is I did break down and send my mom a picture of the walls. Ya know what? She stopped calling me! You know its bad when your mom had to take a break from you. Swear to God. I though about calling her and asking what I should do but I'm pretty sure the answer is going to be Kiltz. Why, oh why, is my answer always more money?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, guess what? That's, right &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SHGa_mHpE0I/AAAAAAAAAIU/WeqDy-WbHLM/s1600-h/door.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220123860454150978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SHGa_mHpE0I/AAAAAAAAAIU/WeqDy-WbHLM/s320/door.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm so closing the door. Even better I still have my book, my dog &lt;em&gt;~who I bribed with burnt cheese toast&lt;/em&gt;~ and a tall glass of tea. I don't need no stinking paint! All I need is a trashy romance novel, some sweet tea.....and a man in a kilt with some Kiltz! ~&lt;em&gt;HA, jeesh I so crack myself up~&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;PS: Send camera because the camera phone just is not cutting it anymore.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-1145078117020032239?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1145078117020032239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=1145078117020032239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/1145078117020032239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/1145078117020032239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/07/painting-day-3.html' title='Painting: Day 3'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SHGa_mHpE0I/AAAAAAAAAIU/WeqDy-WbHLM/s72-c/door.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-2576640371467288021</id><published>2008-07-05T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T20:19:49.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Painting: Day 2</title><content type='html'>Or "I love this shade of blue, why would I ever cover it"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this painting thing is not going as well as I expected. Let's just say that like the sky, this blue is deep and forever fucking here. *cough* So far I have one wall halfway painted. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; to be honest I will say I have not been very diligent over it and I was trying a texture thing so I was playing with it for awhile but still what I have painted looks AWFUL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I am not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;exaggerating&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; guessing painting is not one of those things I do well. Need proof? Don't laugh...or tell my mama &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/kindofwhite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/kindofwhite.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Yes, there it is, the mess at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Casa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; Flynn. Oh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lordy&lt;/span&gt;, what have I got myself into? I know, I know just calm down and paint over it but HELL, just look at it. I alternate between laughing and sobbing my tiny &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;little&lt;/span&gt; heart out over this. Ya see that splotch on the right...that's where I wrote FUCK in a tiny baby fit type moment. When I grew up, about 10 minutes ~&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; 6 hours later~ &lt;/em&gt;I did cover it up just in case someone saw it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So in an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;attempt&lt;/span&gt; to make it look better I tried this&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/distraction.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/distraction.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;You have to admit the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;strategically&lt;/span&gt; place Pepito does make it look better. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Focus&lt;/span&gt; on the cat people, not the walls. *Sigh* it's bad when even a kitty can not make the mess look better. So I guess my plan of action is to get serious on this, get up off my ass and blogger and get to work. I have a long time to go but the good news is I have a huge ass bucket of paint and can put many MANY coats on until I get it like I want.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Umm&lt;/span&gt; has anyone ever heard of a wall &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;collapsing&lt;/span&gt; because of too much paint? Maybe I will just go take a bath and ponder this a bit longer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-2576640371467288021?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2576640371467288021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=2576640371467288021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2576640371467288021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2576640371467288021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/07/painting-day-2.html' title='Painting: Day 2'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-2737739801713928453</id><published>2008-07-04T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T13:15:54.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Once upon a time...</title><content type='html'>...there was a boy that had to have a Cardinals/Cubs bedroom. Nothing would do but the walls had to be blue and the room accented in red. Shelves went up that held bobble heads, nails were put in to the wall to hold starting line up action figures of Sosa and McGwire. Posters of home run kings were pinned to the wall as well as pennants, hats and anything else baseballie that the child could find. The boy was happy. Then the unthinkable happened.  Father time waved his hand over the boy and before you could blink the boy became a man ~&lt;em&gt;but not in his mama's eyes cause he will always be her boo boo bunny ~&lt;/em&gt; and the man, even though he loved his room, chose to leave it for another room &lt;em&gt;~which was all girly and had flowers and pretty colors in it! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The room stood empty for over a year just in case the boy/man chose to move back into it. Time raced forward and even though the boy/man moved out of the flowered bedroom he chose not to move back into the room but to rent a new room of his very own in his very own apartment &lt;em&gt;~which kind of makes his mama get all misty eyed when she thinks of it&lt;/em&gt;. The room was very sad for all of about 10 minutes because it was time now for a make-over. With every great make-over there are always before pictures. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here we have view one which is really more to show the color that I'm dealing with here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/walls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/walls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;The carpet will be coming out as soon as the paint dries! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;View two and a picture of the sad guest bed that people actually have to sleep on when they visit my house.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/bed-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/bed-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So now, how about a room with a view and a cat or two. Oh yes, here at Casa de Flynn have plenty of help. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;First we have the BOSS who has his nose into everything and rules with an iron paw &lt;em&gt;and is so damn cute that I just want to smush his face and kiss him a lot&lt;/em&gt;. Boss Tankers makes sure that I keep to task and keeps a keen eye on everything. My second helper is Boss Pepito. He is more laid back but does get kind of pissed off when I have to move him to try and get to the spot above him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/tankers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/tankers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/Pepito1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/Pepito1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then there is always one in the crowd, I give you the slacker. Coco is the evil enabler who thinks that it would just be a hell of a lot more fun to go out and play ball then to deal with all this paint mess&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/CocoFlynn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/CocoFlynn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;How sad is that? Every time I would move she would re-position herself so that this is what I would see. Does this not just scream, "Play Ball With Me Or I Will Die"? So I did, and the walls are still blue.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;More to come soon...as I put the ball down and get back to the back bedroom.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-2737739801713928453?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2737739801713928453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=2737739801713928453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2737739801713928453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2737739801713928453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/07/once-upon-time.html' title='Once upon a time...'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7276445534503523138</id><published>2008-07-01T11:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T11:20:13.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hellooo Canada</title><content type='html'>And have a nice holiday up there!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOLY CRAP, can you believe that it's July 1st already? Can you believe that I have been such a slack ass and have not updated in so long. Honestly, I do have a good excuse. Her name is Jen Lancaster and she wrote this book called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Such a Pretty Fat&lt;/span&gt;.  Oh my good lord, this is the funniest book EVER!! I read it and then had to re-read it just to make sure that I was really reading what I was reading. Yup, it was that good. I suggest everyone run out right now to BORDERS ~&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;please, oh please, so I can hang on to my part-time job!~ &lt;/span&gt;and get this book!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the real reason for the distraction is that I'm, under water &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;~ HA! StL joke ~ &lt;/span&gt;busy at work so I don't have time to update just yet. The way I see it is that everyone &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;~ the whole 2 people that read this blog...hey Cuz give Abbers a kiss when you see her ~ &lt;/span&gt;will be laughing so hard that you/they will not even notice that I have not updated in FOREVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to work before I get fired....SOMEONE FIND ME A GOOD JOB THAT LET'S ME BLOG ALL DAY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. Ms. Lancaster has two other books out too and I suggest that you follow my suit and run out and get those too! My next purchase is going to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bitter is the New Black! &lt;/span&gt;Funny stuff!!! I can't wait!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7276445534503523138?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7276445534503523138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7276445534503523138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7276445534503523138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7276445534503523138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/07/hellooo-canada.html' title='Hellooo Canada'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7678765459030767489</id><published>2008-06-12T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T21:14:53.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My Uterus</title><content type='html'>Again, the boy has pissed me off. I realize that I am not very important in his life right now but he could at least follow through and do what he said he would. He did not cut the grass. Now we were at defcon 1 gazillion with the grass and at any minute the grass cutting police....&lt;em&gt;not my cute knight on the lawn mower&lt;/em&gt;...but the mean ole grass cutting police, that give you a ticket, police were going to show up at my house. Seriously, I lost the dog the grass was so high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is a self sufficient, bitcher and griper about weak woman, supposed to do when this happens. You got it, they get off their rolly polly ass and cut the grass. I am woman hear me roar or is that just my mower. I went over and borrowed a mower from the neighbor who was very nice and even put gas in it&lt;em&gt;...but did not offer to cut the yard for me, which would have messed with the whole I can do it my self thingy by the way...&lt;/em&gt;and off I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm, do you know grass cutting SUCKS. Do not let people tell you it is fun. It is not. It is fun sitting on the porch watching someone else do it and pointing out that they missed a spot but, trust me on this one, walking behind the belching, roaring, cutting thing is not fun. I even *gasp* broke a sweat. Ok, really, I almost had a stroke because it was so damn hot. I was so red and wheezie that the neighbor did come out and ask me if I was ok....&lt;em&gt;no you butt, I am not ok now cut my grass for me while I swoon and cry like a little girl&lt;/em&gt;. Of course I was ok, does he not get out there every week and cut his grass. Sure, sure, his face doesn't go all beat red and he doesn't make the wheezing, gasping sounds but that is beside the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is I cut the grass. I cut all the grass. I did not cheat and only cut the front part that people can see. I even did around the signs and poles and stuff like that which was a little trip to hell and back. I did not even complain about it...&lt;em&gt;not out loud anyway.&lt;/em&gt; I was a big girl and I didn't need no stinking man to do it for me *ROAR*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm, ready for this one? Did you know that I can get someone to cut my yard for around $100 a month. Did you also know that there is a good chance I can get a kid...&lt;em&gt;not my kid&lt;/em&gt;...to do it for even less.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Wanna know how I know this? Well, you see, after my blood pressure went down and the sweat stopped pouring into my eyes, I made some calls. Actually, I only had to make two calls to get my questions answered. The question being...PLEASE WILL YOU CUT MY GRASS....&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;whatever!! It's hot out and there is dog poop out there and bugs not to mention I sweat like a pig and smell like ass by the time I'm done. Stank de'Ass is so yesterday you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a tough bitch is over rated. I would much rather be the bossy bitch on the porch, with a glass of tea with lemon, thank you very much, pointing out spots that have been missed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*ROAR*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7678765459030767489?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7678765459030767489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7678765459030767489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7678765459030767489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7678765459030767489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/06/oh-my-uterus.html' title='Oh My Uterus'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-6826108617530908411</id><published>2008-06-12T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T13:27:16.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Age</title><content type='html'>I have always been a bit scatter brained. I have a wee bit of an attention problem and I tend to just lay my stuff down where ever. I have always been one to lock my keys in the car, put the milk in the cabinet or lose my shoes but lately things have been getting worse. The other night I found the ice cream in the fridge and the leftovers in freezer. Now I LOVE ice cream and would never do anything to harm it so the whole in the fridge thing just boggled me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My worst, at the house, has been when I lost my glass. The other night after dinner I decided to have a glass of wine and watch a movie outside. I took the computer out and lit some candles and watched Zohon...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I so lust Adam Sandler&lt;/span&gt;. I drank, maybe, half a glass of wine before the bugs were just too bad and I had to move inside. Now since Im lazy I scooped everything up, my computer, a book, my phone and my glass of wine and heading in the house. I headed back to the bedroom and put the computer and book on the bed then went to the basement to dry some clothes. When I came back upstairs, as I was walking through the kitchen I noticed that my wine glass was not on the counter. I thought that was weird because I could have sworn that I put it down as I walked through. I kind of glanced around then headed back to the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was getting late so I pushed the laptop out of the way and moved my book and there it was. My wine glass was in the middle of my bed. That would have been fine but it held a half a glass of wine which was now drenching my covers, sheets and mattress. WHAT THA HELL??? I was confused, I was boggled, I was panicky and yes, I started to cry. What was going on with me? First the ice cream now wine? Was/am I losing my mind? I fretted all night about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I thought about it the worse it got. Do I have the early stages of dementia? Is my brain oozing out of my head? Am I going to have to go live with one of my kids because I keep setting the house house on fire? Are they going to find me wandering nekkid, in my nightgown, walking up and down the street talking to my dead grandmother...more so than I do now...but where people can see?? I was scared/I am scared. I don't know what is happening to me. Is there a drug that I can take to make this better or am I just old?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many question to ponder over this. The good thing is half the time I can't remember what I was thinking about so it all kind of just slips under the rug. Now, if you would please, keep a watch out and if you see a woman wandering around in her nightgown talking to her dead grandmother please point her in the direction of Illinois. Someone might just be looking for her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-6826108617530908411?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/6826108617530908411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=6826108617530908411' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/6826108617530908411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/6826108617530908411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/06/old-age.html' title='Old Age'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7026457947728234807</id><published>2008-06-07T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T00:12:48.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Form of Exercise</title><content type='html'>Old age has hit and I am losing my mind. Today I got up and dressed and was at work at the Bookstore at 2 PM. The bad thing with this is that I was FOUR hours early. I could have sworn I was supposed to be in at 2. I was wrong. Well I headed back to the house thinking that I could have a nice relaxing afternoon before I had to go back in. I was on the phone with my mother trying to explain that I never ever laughed at her offer for me to come live with her...&lt;em&gt;another story for another time...&lt;/em&gt;when there was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;persistent&lt;/span&gt; knock at my door. I thought it was the boy coming over to say hi to his mother. I was wrong. It was the NB Police at my door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This scared the living &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bageebies&lt;/span&gt; out of me. I just knew the boy had been hurt. The not so nice officer...&lt;em&gt;nope it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; my knight with the riding lawn mower&lt;/em&gt;....asked if I owned a blue &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Honda&lt;/span&gt;. Well I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; but my son who no longer lives with me does. He said well it is registered to this house and it is broken down up on cedar street and you have until 6 to move it or I will have it towed. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Welll&lt;/span&gt; thank you very much Mr. Policeman. Thanks for giving me 2 hours to drag the beast home. I called the boy. No answer. Do you know how pissed off a person can get when they are frantic trying to find someone and that someone will not answer the phone. Let me tell you, pretty miffed off. I called, I called, I called and still no answer. I sent a text. No answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is where I am a bad mother. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know where my kid lives. I know the apartments but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; not sure which one is his. I just knew the boy was asleep and ignoring me so I went on a hunt to find him. Thank god the apartment complex is not huge. I knew that he took one of my window fans so all I had to do was find that fan and I had him. I walked all around the apartments. I must have looked like some crazy stalker loon but I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; care they were going to tow the kids car. Did I mention that the kid has no job and if they tow the car there is a good chance he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; get it back? Did I mention that he just put $500 into the car? Did I mention that the car used to be my car and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; still rather fond of it? So call me crazy for trying to get this taken care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I found a the dang window fan and one of the neighbors was nice enough to tell me which door went to the top apartment. I beat on the door and no one answer. I beat some more and no none answer. Finally a construction worker that was over at complex came by to see what the noise was. I told him the whole story and he even beat on the door for me. Then he took it a step further, he jiggled the door handle and said, "Did you know the door was open?" I told him to stand right there that he was my witness that I was not stealing anything and in I went. The boy was not there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I just say how mad I was right at that moment. So I started around town to all his friends. No Boy. I went home and looked at his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;MySpace&lt;/span&gt; to see if I could track him that way. NO BOY. I called a gazillion more times and no answer. I went through his room looking for the spare key and had no luck so I did the only thing I could think to do. I went back over to the apartment, opened the door, marched in, when to his room and took his keys off the floor of his bedroom. Oh yes, lets add breaking and entering to my list of crimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I head back to the car feeling a bit proud that I managed to solve this problem. I get in his car and try and turn it on only to discover it will not start. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;dumbass&lt;/span&gt; had left the lights on and the battery was dead. Now about this time the boy finally called me. I was frantic trying to get his car in neutral. Did you know that if you cant start the car then you cant put it in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;neutral&lt;/span&gt;? It's true. The boy did not know why the battery was dead and said that he had left the car on the side of the road...&lt;em&gt;he was about 5 blocks from home...&lt;/em&gt;because he had run out of gas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cussed him. I cusses my child right there on the side of the road in 90 degree weather. I then asked him where he was. Oh he was at the lake. I cussed him again. I said words that I made up and cussed him some more. I really flipped my lid when he asked, "So what do you want me to do?" Boy, I want you to have a wonderful time and mommy will take care of this just to prove a point. And prove a point I did. I managed to push the damn car 4 blocks before I almost passed out. I would have made it home but I was pushing it up a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;f'in&lt;/span&gt; hill, in 90 degree weather. I honestly thought I was going to meet Jesus. I was so mad that Jesus would have sent me on down to hell just so he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; have to listen to me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have a couple people stop and help me for a block or so. Thank you nice people. Sorry that I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;wheezing&lt;/span&gt; so loud that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; thank you proper like. Finally I gave in and called a neighbor to see of she had a truck that we could push the car with. She &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; but she did come to my rescue. She and her husband came out and managed to get the hood up on the car and to get the car jumped. We got gas in it and managed to get the thing home before 6:00. I managed to get my heart rate back down and the red faded from my face and I was only 30 minutes late for work. Another good thing that came out of all this was I got my house keys back from the boys &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;key chain&lt;/span&gt;. There will be no more coming to moms when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; not home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one thing that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; stop was my uterus hurting. It hurts because my kid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; give a flip that his mom was out pushing his car trying to save it from getting towed. It hurt because the baby boy that I raised is long gone and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; really know the man that took his place. It hurts because what I thought was my family is gone and today I realized just how alone in this world I am....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; like any of  it one bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7026457947728234807?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7026457947728234807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7026457947728234807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7026457947728234807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7026457947728234807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-form-of-exercise.html' title='A New Form of Exercise'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-4745243093478348274</id><published>2008-06-07T03:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T03:30:46.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Is It....</title><content type='html'>Why, tell me why is it that when I don't have to be at work at 8:00 AM that I am wide awake, bright eyes and bushy tailed, ready for the new day? Usually at 5 AM I am crying in my pillow because I do not want to roll out of bed. I think a nap is in order later this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that when the boy comes back to the house he leaves it in a mess? I walked in to the computer being left on, a plate on the couch, the couch cushion pulled off the couch, the remote on the floor, a pot on the stove with chicken water in it, the remains of one of my lunch tv dinners on the counter and a pair of dirty socks by the computer desk. I love him to death but some days I could strangle him. I really need to get his room cleaned out so he wont be tempted to come back to the house. I wonder how his roommates are dealing with his slobbyness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that the dog wants to wander? Why can she just not go outside, pee, poop, and come back in? Why does she feel the need to go check on the neighbors? Seriously dog, the neighbors are fine just get your ass back in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that I have a new bad habit which involves forgetting to put pants on when I go outside? Ok, I am really a nekkid gal. When I get home I strip down to nothing and usually just throw a t-shirt on if I feel the need. Now the t-shirt is long and huge so all the pieces parts are covered so when I do take the trash out nothing is winking in the wind. I have also been known to let the dog out with no pants on as well as walk to the mail box. So far so good I haven't been caught doing this and honestly at my age I just don't give a dame. We are going to chalk it up to being the weird old lady on the corner with all the cats!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that the herd has to bully one of it's members? My cats are awful. I have one poor little mama kitty that they are all so mean to. I don't know what their problem is/are but they need to chill or I'm going to start swatting butts over it. It's ok Mama kitty I have enough love for you to cover all the mean that they give you. I sneak her pounce...hmmm maybe this is why they are mean to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that on my day off or when I'm up early and can enjoy a nice, peaceful, relaxing sit outside it rains? I swear every time I look out the window now it's raining. Which does remind me if it ever stops I do need to clean the gutters out. I think I saw a tiny little tree growing in the back one and this is never good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that The Phantom continues to piss me off? Yeah, yeah I know the answer to this one...because I allow him to. One would think that after 8 damn years I would learn that this is not going to happen. One would think that I would just walk away. One can assume that I'm not so smart. I'm back to being hard hearted and mean because if I don't he is going to destroy me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that I can never come up with a good ending for my posts? I really do struggle with this one. I want a clever ending, one that ties it all together and even leaves a whimsical chuckle at the very end. I'm all about the chuckles. This never happens. I feel that with most of my post I just leave it there dangling or that I overkill it and it comes out bland. What to do what to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with that question I think I will end it here. Sure there are more Why Is It questions but a girl can only do so much without getting finger cramps. ~dangle~ See..it's just laying there waiting to end eloquently. Since it's not going to happen I'm leaving y'all with...Goood Morning World!! I hope it's a beautiful day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-4745243093478348274?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/4745243093478348274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=4745243093478348274' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4745243093478348274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4745243093478348274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/06/why-is-it.html' title='Why Is It....'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-1119636969346747088</id><published>2008-06-03T00:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T00:46:35.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tick Tock</title><content type='html'>Do you see the time stamp? Do you know it's 2:30 in the morning? Do you know that I have to be up at 5:30 so I don't miss the train? What the hell is your problem? Why did you wake me up? Was what you had to say so important? Did you just need to go to the bathroom and wanted me up with you? Was I snoring and keeping you awake?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this why you started barking and scared the bejeezies out of me at 2:30 in the morning? Dog, you are lucky you are cute or you would be dead instead of just exisiled to the end of the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's right, Ms. Coco decided that she would have a barking fit this morning. I have not a clue what she was after but by the time I was up and out of bed it was long gone. I was a bad doggie mom and just opened the door and let her out to go pee. This was a mistake. The dog just slowly wandered out of the yard. She would not come back. I opened the door to go get her and the cat took off. Little f'er.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I was, outside in my ripped up t-shirt, no shoes and no pants. We are talking NO PANTS here people. One wrong move and it's a full moon tonight. Now the cat is a quick little bastard and he takes me on a lively romp down the road and up on some strangers porch. Finally I caught him. Wow, that's what that tail is for. Needless to say the cat was PISSED off at me using his tail as a handle. Tough, pussy cat, come back when I call. Now, as Im getting the cat, the dog is wandering all over the damn place. She is having a wonderful time. Can I mention here that at 2:30 AM the grass is VERY wet and its dark out so you dont know just what you have managed to step in while you are trying to avoid the claws of a very pissed off, hissing, ball of fur in your arms?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news is we are all back inside and all no worse for the wear. I don't think the moon peeked out but I could be wrong about that I will have to check the grapevine tomorrow to see if my romp was spotted. Now for the bad news....did you know that a romp through wet grass pretty much wakes a person right on up? Oh yes, it does. Geeesh it should be a fun Tuesday in hell. I really think that I should get a half day for having a midnight wrangle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night all...Im off to give it a try....or to read the soap forum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-1119636969346747088?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1119636969346747088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=1119636969346747088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/1119636969346747088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/1119636969346747088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/06/tick-tock.html' title='Tick Tock'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-6660339724974908305</id><published>2008-06-01T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T20:08:34.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 1st Ramble</title><content type='html'>Can you believe that it is already June? I swear it seems like the year just started. Sometimes I wonder if I would notice that time passing like it does if I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; work at the bookstore. I seem to gage my life by the new books coming out or the events that interest me....&lt;em&gt;like how I lead into this one?. &lt;/em&gt;THE EVENT is getting closer and I am freaking out over it. I want to do a good job but what I want more is for the people that love this book to have a good time. I want them to have fun with it but I also want them coming away with a new outlook on the book or to have something pointed out to them that they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; think of before....&lt;em&gt;and a cupcake, we cant forget the cupcakes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I have my trivia down. Most of it is easy stuff but I do have a couple of bonus questions in there that are hard. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; started to go back through the book and mark it up with my questions. Amazing how a highlighter and some dental floss can help you sort through all the information. The bad part is when I highlight something it's usually because I have a question about it. There are things that I cant wait to ask just  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; understand them in the book. Not to mention I really want to see how old I am *L*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I mentioned &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;terrified&lt;/span&gt; of this Book Discussion. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; so scared they are going to blow me out of the water with it. These people LOVE this book. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; started to like it  but I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; love it. I can understand the love of it but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; not there yet. Maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; looking for them to help me over the edge...maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one thing I am really excited about is the scavenger hunt. It's going to ROCK. I was a bit worried about the store being torn up but I think I can control it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to have clip boards, a list and RULES. I just need the Title, the author, and the location of the book. Do not bring the book to me. The hardest thing is to not use my trivia for the scavenger hunt too. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Arrrgghh&lt;/span&gt; I need to get off this blog and get to highlighting again. Obsessive?? A bit *L*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the weekend at the bookstore I walked around and thought of questions. This was a good thing because I really enjoyed myself this weekend. It felt back to normal. I had a few moments where I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;snarky&lt;/span&gt; but I worked it out. Actually, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; work it out I was just a bitch and stayed where I was. Nothing bad happened and nothing really came back to bite me on the ass so all in all it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. Funny thing is I was happy to be there. I think it had more to do with the fact that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; have to work all damn day and that they had me at both reg and out on the floor. I do like that. I like wandering around and helping people. I like picking up piles of books and bringing them to info so we can sort them and put them back out on the shelf. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Ummm&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; I would really appreciate if people would just put the books back themselves but you cant have everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH and my exciting thing that happened was that I met Heather Brewer. She is one of St. Louis' local authors. She was so nice!! I could kick myself in the ass for not catching her signing and book reading. She did make me laugh and I did get some vamp &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;bling&lt;/span&gt;...in red and blue!!! Of course I have to give a shameless plug to her &lt;a href="http://www.heatherbrewer.com/"&gt;http://www.heatherbrewer.com/&lt;/a&gt;. I have high hopes that she is going to make it back over the river for our Book Discussion. She does love the books and I would like to hear what she had to say about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Twilight&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;OK,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; off for now. I really wanted to be in bed by 9:30 but the cat decided that he would rather run the neighborhood than to come home so I could sleep. He is now in the house and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; give out from chasing him. Night all....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-6660339724974908305?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/6660339724974908305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=6660339724974908305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/6660339724974908305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/6660339724974908305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/06/june-1st-ramble.html' title='June 1st Ramble'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-6624580587990567833</id><published>2008-05-29T20:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T20:42:16.437-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Knights in White Satin</title><content type='html'>For the first day in FOREVER it has not rained. It was warm and sunny and much wonderful, not to mention the grass had dried out. I had not planned on cutting the grass when I got home today but when I pulled into the drive The Boy was back at the house. Not a bad thing but I had just went to the store and I did not want to share with him. If I keep feeding him he will never stay at his apartment. I had to think of something quick. The one thing he hates more than carrots is mowing the grass. I AM BRILLIANT!!! I ran in and threw some shorts on and some shoes, cause mowing in bare feet is just stupid, and out I went to the lawn mower. The Boy was nice and did follow me. He also sat and watched as I started it up. It was ok...all part of my evil plan. I planned on making a few passes then fake an ankle twist so he would have to finish the lawn. Much guilt was about to be laid down. Not to mention I would get the lawn done and I could sneak my food in while he was distracted. Just as I was about to twist there was a roar from behind me. I looked up and there was a knight on a white steed come to save me. &lt;em&gt;Que the music&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so not making this up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the town cops was sitting in my yard, on his ridding lawn mower asking if he could cut my grass. Can I just say this was the sexiest thing I have seen in a LONG time. He was beautiful. Actually he could have been Leatherface and I would have still almost fainted from delight. Too bad my knight is married, has an adorable little boy and is around 15 years younger than I am. Mr. Sweetie Cop...&lt;em&gt;good lord I bet he would die if he saw that *L*...&lt;/em&gt;was nice enough to cut my whole yard for me. He did in 15 minutes what would have taken me an hour or more. I swear I just want to walk across the street and hug his dad and tell him that he did such a good job raising a nice boy and I can only hope that my guys turn out half as good as his did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited that I had to call Pissy and tell him this story. Pissy was PISSY about it. He said he use to always cut the grass and not once did I ever call him sexy. Well DUH it's because he had to cut it he didn't do it out of the goodness of his heart. Silly man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit, the chirp of crickets, the hum of the air conditioner, and the smell of fresh cut grass. Could life get any better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think not!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-6624580587990567833?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/6624580587990567833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=6624580587990567833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/6624580587990567833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/6624580587990567833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/knights-in-white-satin.html' title='Knights in White Satin'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-2844963800710713974</id><published>2008-05-28T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T08:38:59.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitch, Gripe For The Day</title><content type='html'>Holy f'ing french fries, is it too much to ask for half way decent customer service? I am borderline pissed off right now. I have a HUGE swap that I'm in. I am so excited about this swap that I can not even begin to tell you. I have planed and thought out and re-planed what I am doing and I finally decided on bathbombs and a salt bar. Of course I wanted an out of this world scent for these and I remembered back that I had some luscious smelling hair conditioner that just made me swoon when I opened it so that was the scent I wanted. I contacted the lady who made the conditioner and she steered me in the right direction to order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On May 9th I ordered $68 worth of FO's from this lady. It was 3 separate scents. I paid by PayPal so I knew it would have to make it's way through my bank before it was shipped. I eagerly watched my account so I would know when it would go through. I just knew that I would have my scents for the Memorial Day Weekend so that I could start putting together my bathbombs...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;oh I only have around 300 of them to make for the swap and a few other things that I have going on&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited, I waited, I tapped my foot. Finally on the 14th paypal sent me a notice saying my payment had gone through. I was SO Excited. I just knew by the 15th or 16th my stuff would be shipped. I kept checking the back porch for my wonderful little fedex box that I knew would be showing up. Ya know what? It's the 28th and Im still damn well waiting. Yes, I emailed her and was told, "oh sorry I never received that order." YOU NEVER RECEIVED IT? Now where in the hell did you think a $68 came from? Did you just think I liked you a lot and was sending you money for the hell of it? Then she didn't have my mailing address. Ok fine, I sent that and got an e-mail on friday that said my FO's would be shipped out the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no tracking number. Honestly I'm just fed up with it so last night I wrote an e-mail asking if it had been shipped, if there was a tracking number if it was ever going to be shipped. I even put in there if it had not been shipped to just refund my money and we would call it even...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;meaning I would not air my dirty laundry out in public. &lt;/span&gt;Low and behold I got a refund announcement in my email this morning. Imagine my shock when I looked at it and it was for $8.99 and a nice...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yes Im being sarcastic because she could have damn well at lest e-mailed me&lt;/span&gt;... note on Paypal saying that she only had 8 oz of the sweet pea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what....the sweat pea was the one that I really wanted for my huge swap. Now what pissed me off is she didn't e-mail me and ask me if I wanted the 8 oz or not she just assumed that it would be ok. It's not. I do not want my sweet pea from two separate vendors....&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;because now Im going to have order more from someone else. &lt;/span&gt;I don't care what you say the scents never smell the same coming from two different people. I want my sweet pea in one bottle dammit. Yes, Im sure that 8 oz will more than likely be enough but what if my soap screws up, What if I spill. I ordered 16 oz dammit and I want it all from one place. Am I asking too much???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, oh why did I just not order from Kangaroo Blue? I love KB. They process my order in a day. They ship FAST. They are wonderful about answering questions. They do not send me snarky comments back.  In fact, when I go to Chicago, I might just walk around and spontaneously hug the KB people because I love them so much....&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ok I have lost it and I'm really off the whole bitch moan point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;AS GOD AS MY WITNESS I WILL NEVER ORDER FROM ANYONE BUT KB AGAIN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...yeah yeah yeah leave me alone I'm having a huge Scarlett O'Hara moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my point....if you screw up at least send me a nice e-mail explaining your poor customer service. I am not an unfeeling bitch...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;most of the time&lt;/span&gt;....and if you have good reason for ignoring my $68 order then I will take that into consideration before I air OUR dirty laundry.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-2844963800710713974?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2844963800710713974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=2844963800710713974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2844963800710713974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2844963800710713974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/bitch-gripe-for-day.html' title='Bitch, Gripe For The Day'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7306508089913773302</id><published>2008-05-26T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T15:40:13.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alll Byyyy Myself</title><content type='html'>My nest is empty. My baby birds are gone. My locks are so fixing to be changed!! I love my boys. Honestly, they are beautiful children but I have found that I love them even more now that they are out of my house. At first I was horrified that my oldest was moving out. True, he doesn't have a job and is going to be living with a stripper and her boyfriend...&lt;em&gt;I swear I am not making this up...&lt;/em&gt;but you know, the boy has to spread his wings. Now he has only been gone for the weekend&lt;em&gt;....please god make it last more than a month...&lt;/em&gt;but I love this feeling of FREEDOM. Is it wrong that my idea of freedom is being able to walk nekkid from the bedroom to the kitchen for a drink? It was also nice to buy a bag of M&amp;amp;Ms on Friday and there are still some left today. So I'm easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I miss the boy. I miss having someone other than the dog to talk to but I do love the fact that he has ventured out into the world...&lt;em&gt;ok so he is only 4 blocks away&lt;/em&gt;...to find his way. I think that this might be a good thing for both of us. He is going to have to grow up and I'm going to have to entertain myself. What does one do when they are all alone? I guess that is what I'm going to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I ok. Yeah, I'm ok. I'm happy, I'm sad, I'm excited, I'm scared....I'm ready. I'm not sure what I'm ready for but I'm ready. I guess I'm fixing to find out if there really is life after a the kids grow up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7306508089913773302?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7306508089913773302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7306508089913773302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7306508089913773302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7306508089913773302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/alll-byyyy-myself.html' title='Alll Byyyy Myself'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-2713940177011980386</id><published>2008-05-20T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:22:30.439-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cat Came Back</title><content type='html'>I thought he was a goner!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let the boys out tonight just like I always do. Two of my cats can roam outside but the others have to just dream from the mud room. Well Biggie never travels far. He is a patio kitty....&lt;em&gt;because that is where the nip is&lt;/em&gt;....Biggie is my huge lovey boy who will do anything for nip. He also refuses to share, the nip is all his. He will do anything for nip which means I can pick him up and love him as much as I want as long as I have a little stash for him. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ummm&lt;/span&gt;....yeah I guess that does make me his dealer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202667754693419442" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SDOWwgrhYbI/AAAAAAAAAH0/aEfCaYfTb7I/s320/MmmCatnip.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SDOX4QrhYdI/AAAAAAAAAIE/30P7jnk1Hi8/s1600-h/Tankinthebowl2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202668987349033426" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SDOX4QrhYdI/AAAAAAAAAIE/30P7jnk1Hi8/s320/Tankinthebowl2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Tank, on the other hand, is a huge pain in my ass. He loves to roam the neighborhood. He thinks he is king of all he sees. He is nosy and bossy but so dang cute that you just want to squish him. I wouldn't suggest squishing him because he has this no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;touchie&lt;/span&gt; thing going and he growls and pitches a fit if he doesn't want love. Lord help you if he wants love and you are not paying attention. Mr. Demanding is all over you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I let these two out to enjoy the evening with me and when it was time to go in Tank refused. He would do that run thing from me. He would run 4 feet then stop and wait to see what I would do. Well what I did was go inside and shut the door on him. I am NOT running after a cat. It's bad enough the dog makes me run after her, I just find it a bit much to chase the cat knowing that I will not catch him. So I left him. Well, he showed me. What did he do? He left me. I could not find him anywhere when I would go out and call him. From 8:00 until 10:00 he was MIA. I was near tears. I thought boogers had got my cat. I called and called and called. I even talked baby talk to try and lure him back...&lt;em&gt;10 to 1 the little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;f'er&lt;/span&gt; was in the bushes laughing his kitty ass off at me. &lt;/em&gt;I ran the can opener which sent the rest of the tribe into hysterics. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Too bad Kitty Tribe we have no wet food right now.&lt;/span&gt; I whistled the High Hopes song and still no Tank. I decided to sit outside and update my blog, mainly about how someone had stole my cat and how sad I was when I looked up and that dang cat was sitting on the patio table watching me. I have no idea how long he had been there but there he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do hate that cat some days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I scooped him and and squeezed him hard and gave him a kiss. He squeezed me back by sinking his claws into me...&lt;em&gt;I'm sure it was a hug and he didn't mean to draw blood&lt;/em&gt;..and gave me a kiss on my shoulder...&lt;em&gt;Honestly, it really was just a love bite&lt;/em&gt;. I was just so happy to see him I didn't care if he was hissing and growling and in a kicking frenzy when I took him to the house....&lt;em&gt;no no really it was his in arms happy dance.&lt;/em&gt; So my boy is all safe and warm inside. All the rest of the tribe has gathered around the King to welcome him home and to give him a bath because....well duh...cause he is the king. Me?? I'm outside trying to get the bleeding to stop before I head in to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with his quirks I love my little ratty ole King Kitty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-2713940177011980386?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2713940177011980386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=2713940177011980386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2713940177011980386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2713940177011980386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/cat-came-back.html' title='The Cat Came Back'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SDOWwgrhYbI/AAAAAAAAAH0/aEfCaYfTb7I/s72-c/MmmCatnip.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-107335378776079933</id><published>2008-05-19T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:22:30.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Name Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I swear I am going to change my blog name to Life From The Patio. I LOVE my patio. LOVE IT. Tonight I wandered out there with my dinner and my laptop. It is just so relaxing even if I do have to deal with the neighbors talking....&lt;em&gt;in really low voices where I can not hear what they are saying! Speak up dammit....&lt;/em&gt;and listen to some baseball game.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can I just say right here that I am not a big baseball fan. I like going to the games, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; get me wrong but I just go for the food. My mom trained me right. There is wonderful food at the park...if you can afford it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; enough about baseball. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So a really cool thing happened today. My mom called to tell me that my dead grandmother was in her kitchen....&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt; so not making this up...&lt;/em&gt;..and that she was a big freaked out about it and wanted to know what to do. I told her to find the spot where the smell was the strongest and walk into it with her eyes closed and say, "I love you mama and tell daddy I said hi and please &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; let bad things happen to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ang&lt;/span&gt; and the boys.....&lt;em&gt;a girl has to cover her butt.....&lt;/em&gt;" and that grandma would leave her alone for awhile. &lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;hat was not the cool thing. That was more of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;umm&lt;/span&gt;, honestly my mom is FINE thing. The cool thing is she said that while she was running from grandma....&lt;em&gt;she went room to room to get away from her....&lt;/em&gt;she got a call from a lady in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ballground&lt;/span&gt; Georgia who was looking for some postcards that my dad had made. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dad loved to take pictures. He loved to go on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;back roads&lt;/span&gt; and take shots of.....stuff. He would ride and ride and ride just trying to get something unusual. Well on his wanders he found a little BBQ place. Just for the heck of it he took a picture of the place then had it made into postcards. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; sure I knew about all this but I guess I forgot. Now Dad loved his pictures. All the kids had them. I still have two in my living room. Dad always wanted that perfect shot. He dreamed of being a big time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;photographer&lt;/span&gt;. So my mom was beside herself when the lady asked if there were any more post cards. Mom explained that Dad had died about a year ago and that she had not found anymore in his stuff. She asked the lady how she had heard of my dad and the lady said that she had found the post card on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ebay&lt;/span&gt;. This thrilled my mom to no end. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; it thrilled me too. It seems that someone in Texas has it for sale for $7. Makes me wonder how it got all the way out there but not so much to buy the card.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So let me present the card...&lt;em&gt;it's not pretty but.....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202298795527856546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SDJHMQrhYaI/AAAAAAAAAHs/njdJG6hS96g/s320/2+brothers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I might just have to have someone bid on it so my mom wont be disappointed if it doesn't sell. Yes, the things I do for love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well the bugs are out and the cat wants in so I think it's time for bed...&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt; wonder if I could get the bed out here...&lt;/em&gt;I have really gone patio crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off to dream of my bedroom patio...night all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-107335378776079933?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/107335378776079933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=107335378776079933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/107335378776079933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/107335378776079933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/name-change.html' title='Name Change'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SDJHMQrhYaI/AAAAAAAAAHs/njdJG6hS96g/s72-c/2+brothers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-5523906351784074158</id><published>2008-05-18T19:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T20:24:39.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Peaceful, Easy Feeling....</title><content type='html'>Can I say again how much I love my patio? Why did it take me 8 years to discover it? It's such a beautiful night here. It's not to windy or to cold. The only light around me is the glow from the laptop and the bug candle but if I look up, in the distance, I can see the church &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;steeple&lt;/span&gt; lit up. I wonder if the owls are out there. We have an owl family that has been there for ages and it's just such a hoot ...&lt;em&gt;snort...get it....hoot...*cough*... &lt;/em&gt;to catch sight of them. I do really love small town life. Other than the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;occasional&lt;/span&gt; car passing by the night is just quiet. You can hear a dog here or there, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mummer&lt;/span&gt; of the neighbors &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; but that is about it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; really sitting here waiting for the train to pass by. I think the train is my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;favorite&lt;/span&gt; part of living here. I love to hear he rumble and it makes me smile to hear the whistle blow and believe me the engineer is big on the whistle. There are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of little side streets that cross the tracks and he hits every one of them. My Granddad was a railroad man and when I hear that whistle I think of him. It's a bit bitter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;sweet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now why am I outside at 10:00 pm on a Sunday night? Well, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; running away from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;responsibility&lt;/span&gt;. The other day at the Bookstore I was asked if I would lead a book discussion group on The Twilight series. Silly me said YES because I love to talk about books and to talk about books with other folks who love to talk about books has to be one of the best things in life. Well what I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; take into account is the fact that I had not read this book. Not a big deal, I would just snag the book and do some reading and I would be all set. I was not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;prepared&lt;/span&gt; for this book at all. Remember that my vampire reading has been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Laurell&lt;/span&gt; K. Hamilton and Christopher Moore not to mention Ann Rice. Twilight is a bit bland up against those. For the first 100 pages I was struggling with it. I felt like an adult listening in to a 16 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;old&lt;/span&gt; life. I was fighting this the whole way. Now I was really stuck because I couldn't back out of the book &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;discussion&lt;/span&gt; but then again how can you hold a discussion on a book you find weak and semi kind of hate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my co-workers handed me the answer today at break. We were discussing this and the comment was made on how the book would feel to a 13 year old. That right there was my answer. For just a little bit I have to forget that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; 43 and that I have already felt all these emotions. I have to go back to when I was 13, before first love, to that time in my life when prince charming was going to appear and love was very innocent. To be honest once I started thinking like that the book became a lot easier to read. When I was 13 I would have loved this book. I would have longed for the romance, the anticipation of that first kiss. I would have dreamed of a boy just like Edward. Someone who would have been there for me and protected me but also was that bad boy dangerous type. Oh yes, I would have been all into this love story. The good thing is that by letting go a bit and just reading I have, in a way, got into the story. At least now I can honestly say I know what all the hype is about. Now the trick is going to be keeping this frame of mind for 2 more books. If all of a sudden I go all boy crazy y'all slap me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was a pretty good weekend. I do really feel like I spend all my time at the bookstore. I think in the next couple of weeks &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to start putting in for either Friday or Sunday off just to get some me time. Not to mention I need to work in the yard. The Boy does cut the grass for me but there are things that he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; do like trimming. That and he cuts fast so he tends to miss things like all the grass around the strawberry patch. I also have my tomatoes planted so as soon as it warms up and they get big enough they will need to go outside and be tended too. I am so not an outside garden type person but for some reason I just think I have to do this. It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; I will be back to my right mind come July when it's so damn hot I can't even think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow I'm going to have to wrap things up because right now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; just to dang relaxed to even write. I think it's time to just shut down and enjoy the night....that and I have to let the dog out before she tears the door down. For some reason the patio is hers too and I can not give up a chance for her to spend quality time with me. Maybe she will like me a little more if I let her share my happy space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night all&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-5523906351784074158?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5523906351784074158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=5523906351784074158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5523906351784074158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5523906351784074158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/peaceful-easy-feeling.html' title='Peaceful, Easy Feeling....'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7396801896452365815</id><published>2008-05-17T12:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T18:22:30.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh What A Beautiful Morning....</title><content type='html'>I am such a happy camper. This morning started off rough. I received a nice little phone call that, for one, woke me up then proceeded to piss me off. I was about 4 notches past mad, it was that bad. In fact I was so mad that I could not go back to sleep. Yup, it was that bad. I drug myself out of bed and made a pot of coffee then let the dog out. She took off around the house so I had to go after her. &lt;em&gt;Not sounding so good now is it?&lt;/em&gt; I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SC80oQrhYZI/AAAAAAAAAHk/DqgAbztdD8A/s1600-h/patio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201433960913133970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SC80oQrhYZI/AAAAAAAAAHk/DqgAbztdD8A/s320/patio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/?action=view&amp;amp;current=patio.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I had forgot that it was out there what with all the rain we had been getting. A few weeks ago the boys were messing around outside when I came home. I told them that there was a CD shelf out by the street and that I wanted it for my soap stuff. Now, honestly, I was just kidding. I just have a thing about going through other folks trash for some reason. It seems that my boy child does not have this problem. Oh yes, he got the CD rack for me but on his way home he spotted a patio set...on the side of the road. One chair looked like a car had hit it but the other three were in perfect condition. Cushions were included as well as a cute glass top table. With a little help from his friends this lovely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;addition&lt;/span&gt; came to live at my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning has been the first time that it has not been raining or that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; had to head to work so I got to enjoy the find. What a wonderful creation this table for the outside is. Who would have thunk that sitting out in the early morning with a cup of coffee and your laptop could promote such inner peace. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; guessing it's the fact that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; outside in my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt; that is the key but that is just my theory. I drank my coffee, I e-mailed my mother, I took pictures of my patio set, I played with the cat, I read my stupid teen-age vampire romance book but most of all I just enjoyed sitting there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the bad thing about this is that the patio is in need of fixing up.  I need to sweep it off and plant lots of plants &lt;em&gt;more so than just the pot on the table which has seeds that need to hurry up and sprout so it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; look like I have a pot of dirt on my table&lt;/em&gt; not to mention force the boy to cut the grass out there. I think that with all those things done this could become my new happy place. I think that even without those things done it could still become my new happy place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with my new inner peace I am heading to the bookstore...lets hope that a full morning of sun and fun can withstand any bookish drama.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7396801896452365815?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7396801896452365815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7396801896452365815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7396801896452365815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7396801896452365815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/oh-what-beautiful-morning.html' title='Oh What A Beautiful Morning....'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bkGrUW-WjZA/SC80oQrhYZI/AAAAAAAAAHk/DqgAbztdD8A/s72-c/patio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-5992335270877721795</id><published>2008-05-13T18:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T18:52:55.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Promises, Promises</title><content type='html'>I really need to get better with this blog thing. I swear I have good intentions but some how I just never get around to writing it all down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; I do have a funny ex story. I called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pissy&lt;/span&gt; the other day to grump about something and to see how his flight was from CO to TX. He was all in a ruffle I swear. He made me promise not to laugh at him if he told me something. I did my best to promise but he knows how I am so it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t really count. He said that he got on the flight fine and that he found his seat. He got settled in and pulled out his book when this really nice looking lady sat down beside him. Well instead of reading he struck up a conversation. She was really chatty with him and she kept touching his arm. He was THRILLED. This woman was flirting with him and his ego was huge. So they were chatting away and something came up about being single and the worst thing was eating right. The lady looked at him and said, “You would be really nice looking if you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;weren&lt;/span&gt;’t so HEAVY” Oh my god I would have bitch slapped someone if they said that to me. To make matters worse, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Pissy&lt;/span&gt; is NOT heavy. He is what I consider normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; I did laugh but I was a bit horrified for him too. He asked me what I would have done and I had to answer honestly with I don’t know but the air guard on the plane would have been involved and there would have been blood. BITCH!! I know people just sometimes say things but damn that was cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of people just saying things….like how I swung into that one…..today at work I was sitting at my desk with my shoes off. Since the bosses are away my huge pleasure is walking around with no shoes on and not having to worry about it. So anyway I'm sitting there and one of the Hens comes up behind me and asked me to look something up. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; fine I was flipping around trying to find what she wanted and she blurted out OH MY GOD YOUR FEET STINK. I wanted to crawl under the desk. Yes, my feet stink but can you not scream it out? Would it be to much to ask to just let it go and pretend that I smell like flowers and candy? Oh no, she went on and on about how my feet stink and the whole time I was trying to convince her that it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Didn&lt;/span&gt;’t work. I was caught, feet down so to speak, in stank. I really did just want to curl up in a little ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with that I'm off to soak my stinky feet. Now I'm on a quest to have the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;bestest&lt;/span&gt; smelling feet in the world. As God as my witness my feet will never be stinky again!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; that was more than likely a lie but nothing like a bit of Scarlet for dramatics!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-5992335270877721795?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5992335270877721795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=5992335270877721795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5992335270877721795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5992335270877721795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/promises-promises.html' title='Promises, Promises'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-6965987863911179584</id><published>2008-05-05T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T21:09:31.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh What A Night</title><content type='html'>Mothers Day came early to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Casa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; Flynn (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cinco&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; Mayo, Baby) and my boy took me out to dinner and a movie to show just how much he loved me. First he stuffed me with Sushi...Nothing says &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Cinco&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; Mayo like sushi...then we went to see Iron Man. It was such a great night and the movie was excellent. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, secret confession, I have always had a teen crush on Robert &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Downey&lt;/span&gt; Jr. Now I have that old lady crush on him. It's the eyes, holy smokes and Jesus save me from those bedroom eyes. *fanning myself madly*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other good news is the boy also got his income tax check. This affects me because I had $1.95 in the bank to last me until Friday and now I have the boys income tax check in the bank. It is there for safe keeping but it is nice to know that if I have to get gas I can and float him until Friday. We kind of do that for each other. He helps me, I help him. Sometimes it works and most of the time it doesn't but we give it a good try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work in hell was good today too. *gasp* can you believe I said that. Everyone was bitchy at everyone but me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Jeesh&lt;/span&gt; I do love when I am not the slow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;gazelle&lt;/span&gt; on the s&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;avannah&lt;/span&gt;. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know if it was just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;every one's&lt;/span&gt; mood or if it was the fact that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; work at the Bookstore this weekend and was well rested but what ever it was it felt nice. I felt relaxed. I was in a good mood. I was me again. Wow, that was a scary &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;sentence&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now since I have had a full night and a full belly I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to leave it here. I going to go turn the lights out and dream of....hell my luck it will be of the little robot guy that kept getting Tony Stark with the fire extinguisher. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; that just makes me laugh so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to bed with a smile on my face for the first time in a lot of weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night all....sweet dreams&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-6965987863911179584?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/6965987863911179584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=6965987863911179584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/6965987863911179584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/6965987863911179584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/oh-what-night.html' title='Oh What A Night'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-434502563689769617</id><published>2008-05-01T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T20:52:34.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hodge Podge of Me</title><content type='html'>I love cantaloupe. Maybe love is to mild of an emotion. I LOVE cantaloupe. I think of cantaloupe all day, I dream of cantaloupe all night, I want to eat cantaloupe nekkid, off the sweaty stomach of an equally nekkid man…cause it would not be the same if he had a shirt on and he was sweaty….but hell I would eat it then too. I don’t need flowers, just bring me cantaloupe and I'm yours. Easy? Well, duh, yes!  Now the weird thing is this obsession with cantaloupe just started last year. Up until then I hated it. I hated the smell, the look, the icky seeds inside that looked like snot and made me gag when I saw them. I guess I had one of those taste bud changing moments. So now my question is, if I changed to like cantaloupe, did I lose my like of something else? Hmm…maybe I should start eating more to see if there is something I now do not like. Justification people…it’s all about the justification!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so hooked on Dancing With The Stars. I keep watching it over and over. I want the dresses but deep down in side, what I really want are the SHOES. What the hell is this? I am not a shoe person. I have three pairs of shoes and could care less which ones I wear. I sit and watch the women dancing and I want those shoes. I want the heels, I want my feet to look that good in them, I want my feet to move like that when I wear them. Ok not so much but I do really just want the shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wisteria. I think that is my favorite thing of spring. I have this little wisteria bush on my side yard that has just burst into blooms. I just can not keep my face away from these booms. *snork* Ok I was going to say I couldn’t keep my face out of this bush but I turned into a 13 year old boy and got the giggles over it. I think I need wisteria soap and lotion. I think I need this now. I feel a soaping session coming on this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing makes me smile more than the cats on nip. I discovered that some of the plants from last year were making an appearance this year so I picked a bit and let the cats go wild. They were too funny. They were rolling and loving it  all over the living room and they looked so sad when it was gone. Hurry up and grow little cat nip so that I can drive my kitties wild. Ok I lied, something does make me smile more. I love when the cats are all nipped up and they crawl in bed with me. They are all over me and the attention does my heart good. Sure I have to bribe my cats to love me but hell, they are cats!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m really annoyed with something and someone in my life. I’m leaving it at that because some things do not need to be out on the internet. I’m just saying, person, you know I'm annoyed and it’s up to you to make the first move because I wont. Yes, I’m that mad…and petty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a new camera. I really really really need one. This scares me to even think about. Have you looked at cameras? Holy smokes and Jesus there are a ton of them. Do I want a point and shoot or should I take the next step and get a CAMERA? Oh yes, I dream of interchangeable lens, and filters, OH how I need filters, and classes, lots and lots of classes where I can talk to other people about my camera and why I decided to get that one. My problem is I will read and re-read and looks some more and read and go back and forth until I don’t want a camera anymore because I'm scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a lonely moment in life right now. I get tired of coming home to an empty house. I hate not having someone to talk to about my day. On the bright side, the dog is starting to have more to do with me. Maybe she just feels sorry for me because when I get home I talk to HER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have discovered the dog loves me a lot when I bring out the flying chunkit. This is a nylon frisbee thing that we have had for a whole week and she has not managed to tear up yet. She did put a hole in it but the thing still hovers. I can’t help but laugh when it hovers because she does jump for it and catches it in mid air. Seeee this is why I need a camera. It would be a great picture!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would it be wrong to run up to the store and buy more cantaloupe?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;DWTS is almost most over and it’s time for me to get some sleep. I need to be on my toes tomorrow just to keep everyone happy. That’s my job…I am the happy maker *snort*&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, that is me. I always try and keep the peace, to not rock the boat, and to always be the peacemaker. Just one of my quirks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, time for bed. Sleep well. I know I will...cause I will be dreaming of cantaloupe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-434502563689769617?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/434502563689769617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=434502563689769617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/434502563689769617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/434502563689769617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/hodge-podge-of-me.html' title='Hodge Podge of Me'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-5518625488337128985</id><published>2008-04-22T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T08:54:57.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Will I Ever Learn??</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I will not be vain. I will &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; be vain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sunday, at the Bookstore, I was talking to one of my sweet co-workers and she said that her sister in law had come in and had talked to a nice gray haired lady. Ok that is all fine and dandy but I was the nice GRAY HAIRED lady she talked to. That would not do. That would not do at all. I knew my hair was bad but you know I was kind of going for that natural look. Sure that is a lazy excuse for not coloring my hair but it was a justification. I guess here is where I should say how much I hate buying hair color. I don’t mind the coloring part but I hate having to get the color.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is how it usually goes down. I got to Wal Mart and fight my way back to the hair products section. I slowly make my way up to the boxes because there are 5,000 other gray haired women standing there eyeing each and every box trying to remember what color she had used the last time she did her hair. I keep my eyes on the boxes because if you make eye contact with anyone then that’s another 30 minutes conversing about the number of colors, makes, brands, and ways you can color your hair. After looking at every box, picking up every box, comparing each box side by side to see which will cover the gray the best, re-thinking the whole color thing and wishing that you were over in the chocolate aisle, and checking prices you then put them all back and start over again because you made eye contact and the other lady had a better color than you had. Finally after 3 hours you make a decision and off you go to mess up your hair with a color that is not right for you but will tone down and look ok after 5 or 6 washing.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Whew.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So I stand there looking at all my choices when I spy a neat little kit that they now have…Highlights for dummies. Oh yes, there is a picture of a lady with beautiful hair on the front of the box and it is just the color that I dream of. I grabbed the box and didn’t even think twice about this. I wanted this. I wanted streaky, cute hair. I want blond dammit. Off I went with my box and my dreams of beauty. I got home and put the box on the table and then proceeded to walk around it for a couple of hours. A girl has to think about these things. Finally I moved to the bathroom and started the opening the kit. Easy Peasy, I could do this. I guess I should tell y'all that it’s about 10 PM when I started this adventure.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well the first step of coloring went well. The color was great. It was an ash brown and ended up being all shinny and cute. I should have stopped there but I wanted those streaks. I wanted them bad. Back to the bathroom I went. It was about 10:45 when I started the streaking thing. I got the little comb thing out and pulled up little tuffs of hair all over my head. I was careful not to smear it and I made sure to stagger my tuffs so my streaks would look “natural”. I was so happy. I could just envision the looks of awe and the jealousy my hair was going to inspire. I let the streaks sit for 15 minutes then went back to the bathroom.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As soon as I looked in the mirror I knew I had messed up. My dreams came crashing down around me. Over dramatic? I don’t think so. My hair had gone from cute little streaks to great big clumps of brassy blond. It was so past blond that it looked like I had used old time bleach on it and stripped every bit of color out of it. It looked 100 times worse than bad. I could not even cry I was laughing so hard. Maybe it was just because my hair was wet that it looked so bad. Off to the bedroom I went to dry it. I swear I heard the dog snicker as I walked by. I started on the front and fluffed and puffed and the dryer the hair got the brighter it got. Oh my, I am so not a blond. I tried parting it to the side and I was blond on the left side of my head. I tried pulling it back and I was blond down the back of my head.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is where the panic set in. I could not go out like this. I could not face my wonderful co-workers like this. I could not face myself like this so I made a mad dash to the bathroom, rooted around in the trash can, found the original bottle of hair dye and proceeded to bang it on my head trying to work every smidge of color out of it and on to my mess. Thank goodness I have a really hard head because after about 10 minutes of pounding I managed to get enough dye out to cover my cute streaks. After letting it sit for 45 minutes…it’s not after midnight…I washed it out and low and behold the blond was gone and in place was lovely orange streaks. Not only were they orange but once they were dry they were also frizzy. FABUUUU. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So now here I sit, my blond dreams washed down the drain, I shall never have cute little streakies. I shall never have that wonderful hair that creates a jealous stir when I walk on the Metro. No, oh no, instead I get to sit here with my hair pulled back in a barrette in a half hearted attempt to tame the frizz and hide the orange.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I will not be vain!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-5518625488337128985?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5518625488337128985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=5518625488337128985' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5518625488337128985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5518625488337128985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/04/will-i-ever-learn.html' title='Will I Ever Learn??'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7596218896075551229</id><published>2008-04-07T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T21:29:45.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What A Crappy Day</title><content type='html'>After laying around yesterday I guess my poor old body couldn't handle it. I had a complete melt down either that or eating onion straws at 9:30 at night was a bad idea. All was fine when I went to bed then I started having weird dreams. I was on a boat, the dream would flash and it would go from a big boat to a little boat to a raft, there was a huge storm and the waves were horrible. I was holding on for dear life. I could feel my feat slip under me and I kept falling down then it hit. I got seasick. With each wave my stomach got tighter and tighter. I leaned overboard and threw up. Ok here is the bad news it seems that overboard is really the left side of the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, I puked in bed, on my pillows, on my down comforter, on the cat who hates me right now. What a mess. I was puking and crying, the cat was shaking, thank god I didn't get a lot on him and he was pretty quick getting off the bed, the dog was in an uproar and in general it was just a mess. I got up, got a shower, got things cleaned up - NOT A GOOD TIME AT ALL - then laid back down for an hour until the alarm went off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now did you know the alarm clock is also the retreat signal. Yup, as soon as the buzzer started my stomach cramped and anything left in me made a hasty exit from the rear door....in the bed....on my clean sheets...on my regular comforter because my other one had puke on it. I was not a happy girl. The only good news is I managed not to poop on the cat. I'm pretty sure he would have killed me in my sleep for that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again I got up, cleaned me up, cleaned the bed up and tried to feel better. I fell alseep for about 20 minutes then I was up again. This time I made it to the bathroom where I managed to do two things at one time. Try making that decision at 6:30 in the morning. You know you are going to have to clean something you just have to pick which one is going to be worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I did not go to work today. I needed to. I need the money but there was just now way I could manage it. I did finally keep down about 57 gallons of pepto and some chicken broth. I feel hungry, woozie and still a bit strung out from the whole thing but I think I might just live. Either way I'm off to work tomorrow. I have found that the best way over a stomach flu is to share it with unsuspecting people so tomorrow I might just be overly affectionate and hug everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are in St. Louis and see this demented woman asking strangers for hugs, just go with it. The worst that will happen is you will have a really bad boat ride.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7596218896075551229?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7596218896075551229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7596218896075551229' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7596218896075551229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7596218896075551229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-crappy-day.html' title='What A Crappy Day'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-5378588711100630942</id><published>2008-04-06T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T20:35:13.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Agenda for Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;1:30 PM&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;- Wake up (I kid you not and MAN do I feel good)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;1:35 PM – Go to bathroom, brush teeth, do STUFF, wash face, decided that hair brushing is over rated&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;1:40 PM – Go back to bed. Turn computer on, watch lost, get bored with that, read a book, play with the cats, mess with the dog, go back to the computer, read some more, wander into the kitchen and get some ice cream, wander back to the bedroom and watch more lost then stretch and think to myself “today is the best day in the world”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;4:30 PM – Get tired of doing all of the above and take nap. It has been a rough day you know.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;6:30 PM – Wake up again, bathroom thingy, wander into the kitchen and make a fast dinner then right back to bed doing all the stuff that I did around 1:40 PM. Hey it worked then so why shake things up?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;8:30 PM – have a huge craving for onion straws so go cut some up to soak&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;8:45 PM – wash hand really really good then back on the computer to watch more Lost.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;9:30 PM – Fry up onion straws and cook a small steak. Eat up the yummy goodness and smile because Im still in my jammies and my hair is going in about 100 different directions.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;9:55 PM – Put my plate in the sink and walk away. I will not be washing it tonight for today is my do nothing day. Wander back to the bedroom and watch some more Lost.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ok so it’s 10:30 now and I am a bit Lost out. I’m not sleep but I know if I don’t get to bed soon I will be cranky tomorrow. It’s ok though because being a sloth today is well worth the price I will pay tomorrow. I so needed a day like this. It’s very sad that I look at it as almost a mini vacation. It’s the first Sunday in I couldn’t tell you when that I didn’t have to work. I think I deserve to just lay in the bed and enjoy.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tomorrow it’s back to the grind but for now I think I will stretch, snuggle with a kitty and watch one more episode of Lost before I turn out the lights.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-5378588711100630942?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5378588711100630942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=5378588711100630942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5378588711100630942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5378588711100630942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/04/agenda-for-today.html' title='Agenda for Today'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-2443827069181067579</id><published>2008-04-06T00:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T00:09:29.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sometimes my thoughts go off in different directions. Sometimes I barely get a thought out and there goes another one. That’s the way I am tonight. I’m so tired but I’m not sleepy so I thought I would just sit and ramble (more than usual) So tonight…this morning if you are a stickler for time….you get the whole ramble of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am a happy girl because I do not have to work tomorrow. I think this is the first Sunday in a million years that I have not had to go in. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The paperclip at the bottom half of my screen is creeping me out. The little ferret (ferret because I really do try not to drop the F Bomb a lot) keeps tapping at me. I don’t want his help. I don’t even want him there but sometimes he is useful.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; Really I have only been working at the Bookstore for a year now so a million years is an exaggeration.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The dog has started liking me a bit. I feed her table scraps and boil her liver and Im slowly winning her over. Im not sure if I like this or not because she is a huge bed hog.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; Did I mention I don’t have to work tomorrow? Let it be known here that if anyone wakes me up before 12 noon, I will kill them and it shall be a horrible painful death by….plastic spoon!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I have misplaced my debit card. I had it last night when I bought books. Yes, I know I work at a bookstore and that I can borrow the books but it’s not the same. That and either a kid or a cat always does something to my borrowed book and I have to buy it anyway.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; I lost my book. Friday I had Guilty Pleasures in my hot little hand as I was leaving work. Well by the time I got home it was gone. I have not a clue what I did with that book. To make matters worse I was only 2 chapters to go before finishing it.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I found a fun place to eat tonight. One of the ladies at the Bookstore took me out to dinner at Burt’s Chuck Wagon. (I kid you not) I had a pork steak sammich that was past yummy. Two thumbs up Burt’s!!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;My kitties have colds. They are sad and pitiful and sneeze a lot. I feel for them, really I do. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; I am counting down the days until August. I can not WAIT to go to Chicago.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;I really need a new camera. I can’t decided which I want more, a new camera or a dishwasher. Hard choice because I force the boy to do dishes so no dishwasher doesn’t really bother me.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; I wish I knew where my debit card was.&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; I need to go to bed…either that or go watch another episode of Lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;I have crubby feet and really need to sand them down tomorrow and make them look half way pretty.&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;Night all….and remember do NOT wake me up tomorrow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-2443827069181067579?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2443827069181067579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=2443827069181067579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2443827069181067579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2443827069181067579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/04/random-thoughts.html' title='Random Thoughts'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-4564929227417072908</id><published>2008-04-03T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T21:33:00.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grumpy Child</title><content type='html'>I had the worst day today. It started off bad and went down hill from there. I had no reason to be in a pissy mood but I was. I was over sensitive (more so than usual) and I got my ass on my shoulders. Not to worry it was knocked off quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets just say I had a run in at work with someone who put me in my place quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I forget that I'm just a sheep and it takes that slaughter knife to get me back to pasture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baaaaaaaaaaaaaa....night all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-4564929227417072908?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/4564929227417072908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=4564929227417072908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4564929227417072908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4564929227417072908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/04/grumpy-child.html' title='Grumpy Child'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-3346723157485645075</id><published>2008-04-02T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T19:37:13.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Snap Go The Teeth</title><content type='html'>The dog has a problem. She has a HUGE problem. It seems that Ms. Coco does not like balls.  Either that or she likes them too much. So far we have had 2 soccer balls, 8 tennis balls, 3 softballs, 2 baseballs and about 25 rubber bouncy balls meet their death at the snap of her teeth. This dog is ball crazy. Not only did she kill them but she pretty much shredded them too. I came home the other night to find Peppito, the cat, sitting in the living room with all the rubber ball carnage scattered around him as if to say, “Look Mother, look what she did to my lovely toys.” He is royally pissed over this and has been reduced to playing with rubber bands since those do not seem to be a threat to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I really needed to get Coco a good ball to play with. She loves to go outside and chase so I was on a mission. I went to Petsmart and started my search. I found the perfect one. It was just the right size. It wasn’t too heavy so I wouldn’t brain her if I threw it and she missed – she does this a lot – and the best thing was it was glow in the dark so that when we lost it at 11:30 at night I could easily find it instead of having to go get a flashlight and amuse the neighbors. I barely got in the door when she spotted the ball in my hand. She was all over me crying and pitching a fit for it. She was even more in heaven when I actually managed to get away from her and throw it. She was in love. We played ball for a few minutes then I let her out to potty. She loved the ball so much she took it with her and would not even drop it to pee. She romped and played with the thing until I forced her into the house. After all that excitement I had to pee too so I left her and the ball in the living room. I went to the bathroom and then changed clothes. The boy came in and yelled back at me asking if I had got Coco a new ball. Oh how happy I was, I chirped out that yes I did and she loved it. He started laughing and said, “Oh she loves it all right.” I walked in the living room and there was glow in the dark ball all over the floor. Yup, you guessed it, the shark had chewed the thing up. All that was left was a little end. She cried and cried when I took that away from here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next night I went back to Petsmart. I had the chewed up ball with me. I showed a very nice sales girl, who wanted to laugh but didn’t since Im pretty sure she could sense I was not happy by the destruction of an $8 ball...Oh yeah, did I mention I paid $8 for a ball that lasted 15 minutes at the most??...what I was dealing with. The girl suggested that I get a Kong. She even said that she would give me store credit for the ball I had already got. SWEET. I decided that I would get the Kong Extreme. This thing was solid rubber and, I am not making this up, looked like a large black butt plug. I didn’t care at this point I needed a dog toy and one that the dog could not tear up. Off I went to the house with my big ole butt plug toy and happy thoughts in my head. Again I hardly made in the house and she was all over me. Again she had the thing in her mouth when she went pee. Again, again, again I left her alone with it. One would think I would learn. Did I mention that I paid $13 for the butt plug? (Hush up, I felt guilty for taking back a chewed up ball so I upped my spending) Again, I walked into the living room just in time to see the death of the Kong Extreme. The damn dog had bit the top off it. Snapped the thing off. It was a pretty impressive kill I will give her that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gathered up all the pieces and back to Petsmart I went. By this time they were laughing out loud over this. I was not. One nice boy suggested getting Sharky a bowling ball. I was not amused. I did end up getting her the solid Kong ball. (Yes, again I upped my spending limit and got her some rawhide chew ball things too) This thing is heavy rubber and there is no way she can get her teeth into it. True, if she misses it and it knocks her in the head when I throw it &lt;s&gt;at&lt;/s&gt; to her she does kind of looked dazed but that is what she gets for being destructo, the ball killer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of all this the good news is that the dog seem to only tear up balls. Everything else is safe. The other good news is that Coco “The Shark” Flynn seems to be one heck of a dog even if she does have really sharp, ball killin’ teeth and only loves me when I bring her toys. I think we just might keep her for a long time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-3346723157485645075?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3346723157485645075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=3346723157485645075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/3346723157485645075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/3346723157485645075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/04/snap-go-teeth.html' title='Snap Go The Teeth'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-863898321377722304</id><published>2008-03-28T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T20:59:26.541-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coco Flynn</title><content type='html'>&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Two weeks ago I was roaming around on CraigsList and just happened to see an ad for a dog in my area. It must have been fate because there are NEVER ads in my area. No ads for furniture, no ads for cars, no ads for lawnmowers, no ads for men (snork) and never ever ads for pets. I was so excited. I emailed the lady and explained that I had lost my sweet Tippy girl to cancer and that I was not really looking for a dog but I had really just been taken with Coco’s picture. I got an email back saying how that was great and that if I wanted to come meet Coco that would be fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I was beside myself. I could not wait. Yup, I already owned that dog. It wouldn’t matter if the dog acted the fool and peed on my shoe, that dog was mine. I went out to meet Ms. Coco and I really did fall in love. She was such a sweetie. She loved me and was all over me. We played ball, I fed her treats, she showed me all her tricks and she has a bunch of them. Coco sit, yup yup she did that. Coco roll over, Coco shake, high five, give me kisses, stay, go get your ball and the best one, if you pointed your finger at her and said bang she would fall over and play dead. She was so mine. I could have just squealed I was so excited over all this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I looked at Coco and she looked back at me (adoringly I might add) and I asked if she wanted to go home with me. She ran to the door and sat down. I opened the door and said Coco go get in the car and she was off like a flash and stood by the car while I got my keys out. She hopped right on in like a trooper and sat in the front seat. I was so excited. Not only did I get a dog but I got a good dog and a fun dog and most importantly a dog that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;was MY DOG. The whole ride home she just sat there sniffing out the window. It was a bit like out of a movie I swear. Ok ok there was this one point in the ride where I got cold and rolled the window up to fast and it pinched her nose but other than that it was a movie moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We get home and out of the car she goes, she had her ball in her mouth and a prance in her step as she made her way into the house. The cats went crazy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;berserk, but hell, they are cats and what do you expect?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Too bad cats, I had a dog and they would have to deal. We played ball for a bit, I set up her food bowl and got her water. I made sure that she was all settled in. She loved me. That night she jumped up on the bed with me and snuggled in close. It was so nice to have a warm doggie body back against me. I was in doggie heaven.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The next morning I got up and got ready for work. Coco was right there with me. She cried when I had to leave her. This gave me even more pleasure because it’s nice to be missed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Then it happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The boy woke up. The boy played with my dog all day. The boy gave her treats and scratched her head. The boy loved her up and talked sweet to her. The boy STOLE MY DAMN DOG. I swear to god the fickle bitch was swayed by all this. She doesn’t just love the boy she adores him. She looks at him with mad, wicked, love in her eyes. She follows him around from room to room. She sits at his feet while he is watching tv. Do you know what she does when I come in? She rolls her eyes at me and doesn’t move from his side. The only way I can get her to even acknowledge me is if I steal her toy and even then she looks at HIM as if to say, “please, my love, please make her give it back.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I am hurt, I am pissed, and I am sneaky. I am now in a war to win MY DOG back. Oh yes, the boy has not a clue who he is dealing with. I have money!! I can buy doggie toys. I have The Dish. I can make doggie treats. I am smarter than both of them. Before long the dog will be mine!!! (I hope) I cannot wait for the day when she will actually come to me or when she will stop watching the door and crying because he went out with his friends. So cross your fingers and toes that she will be swayed soon because honestly the chicken liver smell of dog cookies is grossing me out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/Coco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/Coco.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-863898321377722304?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/863898321377722304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=863898321377722304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/863898321377722304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/863898321377722304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/03/coco-flynn.html' title='Coco Flynn'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-6712227097514776235</id><published>2008-03-16T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T21:11:55.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Lost It</title><content type='html'>Today I had one of those really odd customers at the bookstore. At first she had not a clue what she wanted. She had me stand there while she called around 15 people to see if her daughter would like a Gossip Girl book. With each phone call she talked about anything and everything except the Gossip Girl book then at the end of the 20 minute (ok it was really only about 5 but it seemed like 20) conversation she would throw that question out that. Funny enough, no one knew the answer. She finally decided to just get the first book in the series because she didn’t really think that her daughter had read them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever lady, it’s 3 PM and it’s time for me to go home so here is your book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, she was not finished with me. She then handed me the book and said, “here you carry this I have a charlie horse.” Ummm, aren’t Charlie Horses usually in your leg?? I kept smiling and I took the book an waited for my next set of instructions because I was half way convinced that she was just fucking with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the next book, she was looking for something with buildings in it. I almost rolled my eyes but I didn’t, I kept smiling. (I think that smiling might be my super hero power) She wanted not just a book on buildings but a cheap book on buildings. Fine, there are a ton of books over in bargain that might work so off we went. I was in the lead with a smile pasted on my face and lets not forget I get to carry her book for her. She was behind me on the phone, again, with someone who she was telling all about the fight that she had with her mother. I was walking rather fast but mainly in hopes of ditching her someplace between Young Adult and Bargain. (I did think of it but honestly I would never do that...maybe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally we get over to bargain (I swear it seemed like a 5 mile hike) and thank the heavens above the first book we looked at was a book on great buildings of the world AND the thing was only $5.99. The heavens opened and the angles did sing because the lady was all over that book. She ooed and ahhhed over it, I think at one point she even gave it a little hug then she turned to me and said, “here carry this one too”. Geesh lady are we going steady now???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the fun part, she turned to me, looked me dead in the eye and said, “ok, now I want a current best seller but it has to be in paperback.” A current best seller on what?? She didn’t care it just had to be a best seller. By this time it was 3:15, I got off at 3:00 and I was slightly less amused then I was when I started this adventure. Yes, my smile was even faltering a little bit. My brain went a bit to mush and for the life of me I could not think of a current best seller that had gone to paperback but my saving grace was that we do have a display with all the current hardback best sellers set up. Off we went again with me in the lead and her behind me on back on the phone telling someone that she was buying books for three people and that they were going to love them. As we are walking over to the display Im trying my best to make eye contact with someone, anyone, that works there so that I can tag team off and go home. No such luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to the best seller display and she reaches for the #1 book which is Change of Heart by Jodi Picoult. She turns it over and over in her hands, She looks at it top to bottom and even sideways then she opens it up, shoves it at me and said, “Here you read what it’s about to me.” SAY WHAT LADY??? This is where I freaked out a little bit. I got all nervous, I was put on the spot. I did not like this lady very much at all but I was still smiling only now I’m pretty sure it was more of an insane type, get me the hell out of here smile rather than a normal, I’m enjoying myself, type smile. I was stuck, I had no choice but to start reading and this is where I made a horrible discovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lost my ability to read out loud. I guess since I am no longer in school and forced to read out loud and since the boys are grown and I don’t get to read to them I have lost my read out loud ability. Let us not forget that I’m all nervous too so that did not help. I sounded like an illiterate buffoon. I was stumbling over words, I was stuttering, hell, I was almost to the point where I peed my pants when finally she took pity on me and said, “its ok I will take it anyway.” I felt like throwing myself at her feet and explaining that I read all the time and that I was was one of the most well read employees in the books store. People tease me over the amount of books that I read. But oh no, now I will always be the lady who cant read at the bookstore!! (in my mind and I know I have issues)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Yes, I have been judged and I have been found lacking (yeah yeah mostly by me but still) so now I have to step up and fix this. I wonder how the cats are going to react to Stephen King, but then again they are insane enough so maybe a nice mellow romance would be better for them! Really now, what does one read to a heard of cats?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-6712227097514776235?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/6712227097514776235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=6712227097514776235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/6712227097514776235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/6712227097514776235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-lost-it.html' title='I Lost It'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-4890973450063172990</id><published>2008-03-15T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T15:38:21.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is there a full moon tonight?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Today was bring a crazy to the Bookstore day. I swear everyone that came through my line was insane or cranky or both.  Lets take for example the lady with the blue sweater on. She came up nice as could be and was very normal while I started ringing her out. I made the idle chit chat, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda and she just kind of stood there looking at me. No problem I’m a bit of a chatter box. So when we get to the end I HAVE to ask if each customer has a Rewards Card. I have to. Yes, I hate it, no, I don’t care if you do or not, just answer my question so I can get on to the next step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I asked, “Now do you have a Rewards Card?” Ms. Happy Blue Sweater replied (in a snotty tone), “NO and I DO NOT want one either.” Ok, fine, Snot Ass, WHATEVER, was what I was thinking. Well I hit total and she had over $60. Now, that is a lot of money to just throw away by not getting a rewards card not to mention they FORCE me to ask this stuff. Very nicely, I said, “Oh wow, you have a total of $60….” Before I could finish she looked me dead in the eye and said, “SO??”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah yeah, sew buttons on underwear bitch (is what I thought). I never blinked. I finished the transaction with a smile and then it came for the receipt and her coupon. I handed her both and said, “Here is your receipt and there is a coupon but if you decided to use it then you will need to register for a Rewards Card.” She snatched it out of my hand and just stared at me. I never stopped smiling and I never looked away and I said, “You have a nice day.” Happy Blue Sweater lady screwed up her face like she had smelled poop, stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes like she was in mid fit then  stormed off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I was a bit stunned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, Happy Blue Sweater Lady, let me clue you in on some things. First off you didn’t piss me off by doing this, you made me laugh. Not only did you make me laugh but you gave me something talk about for the rest of the day. As a matter of fact for the next three hours that face was made over and over and over again. You did not hurt my feelings or make me feel bad that I had asked you this because, seriously I don’t really care if you get a card or not. You did not make a point other than to bring to light that you are rude and a tad bit insane. And lets not forget this, oh Happy Blue Sweater Lady, your life lesson for the day, you just never know who blogs!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks so much, Happy Blue Sweater lady for giving me my topic for the day! &lt;em&gt;(making that crazy tongue stinking out face right back at you)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-4890973450063172990?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/4890973450063172990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=4890973450063172990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4890973450063172990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4890973450063172990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/03/is-there-full-moon-tonight.html' title='Is there a full moon tonight?'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-1993214949328036897</id><published>2008-03-14T18:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T19:29:58.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is It August Yet?</title><content type='html'>I am so excited. Not a little bit excited but a lot, pee in my pants, excited. Why, you may ask??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C H I C A G O!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, the hermit crab is actually leaving her shell. I am out of the house, going on a road trip, meeting people and looking forward to having a wonderful time. On August 14 I will officially on vacation. This will be the first real vacation I have had in over 8 years. I have put in for time off from work(s), I have booked my room, I have paid the convention registration fee, now all I have to do is make it 151 days with out popping. I am way to excited over this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people might think it's a bit strange to be this over the top over this trip but they just don't understand. You see, I love to talk about soap and how to make soap and what's good in soap and what color is a good color for soap or maybe how the hell do you make a swirl in soap because my soap doesn't let me do that to it. Yes, soap is my passion but very few people in my world understand my need to talk about soap. They actually, if you can believe this, find talking about soap boring. I know they do because they get this glassy look in their eyes when I start in about the great oil combo that I tried. Now in August I am going to a place where there will be a lot of people that share my same passion. Oh man, I just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;squealed&lt;/span&gt; a little bit just typing that. For a solid day I will be able to hear all about soap and even about candles, but mostly soap cause I will just get that glassy look in my eye and say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;UmmHmmm&lt;/span&gt; when the candle stuff is talked about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here is the real kicker. I am going to Chicago with a bunch of strangers. Swear to god. Now they are not really strangers they are just kind of strangers. I talk to these people every day. We swap recipes, we act goofy, we bitch and moan, we laugh, we joke, and we talk soap. That's right I'm meeting up with a lot of forum people. Friends that I just have not come face to face with so to speak. Is it odd that none of this matters and I am so looking forward to it? Of course, I have my "I wonder" moments. I wonder if I will be shy? I wonder if I will fit in? I wonder if they will know who I am? I wonder if I will know them? I wonder if any of this matters? I wonder if M will shake her butt? The only thing I don't wonder about is if I will have a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have a ton of planning to do. What do I make for the swap? Do I do two swaps? What am I going to wear? How am I going to make the time go by faster, you know all the important things to think about! I know I have a 151 days to get it all together but it will be here before I know it....I hope!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-1993214949328036897?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1993214949328036897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=1993214949328036897' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/1993214949328036897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/1993214949328036897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/03/is-it-august-yet.html' title='Is It August Yet?'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-3409915701205884486</id><published>2008-03-12T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T21:53:27.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grrr</title><content type='html'>I am so mad. No, I think I am past mad I am more in that angry range.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am this angry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2026/2329796481_11dcd19520_m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which should not be confused with just being mad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3263/2330621956_6f1522f983.jpg?v=0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you ask, what in the world could be so bad that I would risk huge, mad, wrinkles in between my eyes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a pleasant evening of dinner with friends I came home to find a letter from my bank. This is never a good sign. As I slowly handled the letter, trying to decided to tear it open or just let it wait until tomorrow, my eyebrows went from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2270/2329796519_756dd8b5dd.jpg?v=0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to something along the lines of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2340/2330622002_ab43502912.jpg?v=0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Which is supposed to be my confused, eyebrow up like the Rock, look but I am a bit lacking&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Curiosity got the better of me so I tore the letter open to find a very nice bounced check notice. Even better it was not for a little bit, it was for $121. This is where the pissed off eyebrows come into play. You see, I have this loan. It's not a good loan and I don't really want to talk about it but lets just say it pulled me out of a bind and now I'm paying out the ass for it. I talked to the lady where I got the loan and explained that I was only paid on the 1st and the&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; 15th. We came to an agrement that she would &lt;/span&gt;hold my checks until those dates. She assured me that this would not be a problem. Well I'm guessing it was a problem. Now I'm out another $35 on top of the fact that I BOUNCED.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;This is another area of my life that I need to get under control. My financial situation is horrible. My credit is awful and to put it kindly I'm broke most of the time. I'm tired of it. It's time, way past time, to get a handle on it. I know how to do it I just have to stand firm and take control...if not for me then at least for those god awful wrinkles in between my eyes!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;careful kid or your face will freeze like that&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-3409915701205884486?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3409915701205884486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=3409915701205884486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/3409915701205884486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/3409915701205884486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/03/grrr.html' title='Grrr'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2026/2329796481_11dcd19520_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7541853471250438020</id><published>2008-03-09T20:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T21:10:52.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For tha love of....</title><content type='html'>Nothing in life gives me greater pleasure than books. Oh yes, I do love words. I love the way words are put together, I love the way words feel rolling through your head, I love the way that words make you feel. I also love the paper that the words go on, the hard covers and the soft covers, the feel of books when you crack them open for the first time and the smell of the ink. There is nothing like it. This has to be my greatest pleasure. This also might be why I work in a bookstore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I have a secret that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to let you in on. You know when you go to a store and they ask you if you want to join their rewards program? Well, the cashier is not asking you that just for the hell of it. If the cashier gets so many people to join or to use their cards then they get a prize. Now working in a bookstore, of course, the prize is going to be books. That's right, we get the advanced copies that are sent out. You have no idea how I bust my ass just to get a Promo Slip in my Bookstore mailbox. The Promo Slip is my golden, even if it is pink, ticket to free books. It makes my heart beat fast when I go in and see that little pink slip laying there. It is just way to much fun to go in and rummage through all the Advanced Reader Copies that we get. Every now and again I even manage to get something that makes me do a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; squeal (on the inside of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of my scores that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; really excited about. I have been walking by this book and handling it, I read and reread the back a gazillion times. I admit it, I have had envy towards people who have come in and bought this book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2247/2322496697_b7f621fdf5.jpg?v=0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, I have no idea why this book appeals to me so much. It's not the cover picture that is for sure, it's not a huge book so it's not the weight but there is just something about it that catches my eye and makes me want it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And now it's MINE and it was free so that makes it 100 times better.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So if I'm not around for awhile &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;y'all&lt;/span&gt; will know that I have been book &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;distracted&lt;/span&gt; and that while the world goes by I will be curled up in bed and visualizing &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.randomhouse.com/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9780307264206"&gt;The Senator's Wife&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7541853471250438020?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7541853471250438020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7541853471250438020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7541853471250438020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7541853471250438020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/03/nothing-in-life-gives-me-greater.html' title='For tha love of....'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-1299242848695158102</id><published>2008-03-08T23:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T23:21:56.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Computer Woes</title><content type='html'>6 months ago my sweet little Dell computer was murdered. Oh no, this is not an exaggeration this was out and out murder. My boys always had access to my computer and they did not respect her at all. They popped her keys off, they typed heavy on her, they downloaded porn (I kid you not), they downloaded games and stuff that she just could not handle and it finally did her in. I hemmed and I hawed over her death and finally decided that I would get a new computer. Now, my plan was to hold out for a Mac but I just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t wait. One night I got a wild hair and went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt; Mart and took a look. I found a nice little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Acer&lt;/span&gt;, fully loaded for a nice price so in the spur of the moment bought IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got IT home and started IT up. I was not pleased. IT seemed kind of sluggish, the antenna range was not as good and basically IT was not my sweet little Dell. IT and I plugged along. I basically used IT for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;. I would have nothing else to do with her. I downloaded a few things but wonky shit happened such as when I downloaded foxfire the screen started jumping and jiggling so much that it made me sick to look at it. Then IT started trying to get my attention. At first it was just little things like shutting down when I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t want to shut down. IT’s other favorite trick was to just not connect to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;. IT was pissing me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight IT was just impossible. She started out by shutting down my IE every time I opened it then she ate my bookmarks. I had had enough. IT needed an attitude adjustment so I took her back to factory settings. It took me half the night but I did it and man what a difference it has made. Baby Girl has been purring right along. Everything is nice and clean, she is very happy and not shutting down and so far so good all my bookmarks are still in place. I have even started loading up some of my programs that I swore I would just do without. Time to start making use of a pretty sweet little machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I need to embrace change not fight it so much. I know Baby Girl will never be my Dell but that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t mean that I can’t really put her to some good use. It also &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t mean that I should only use her to check up on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;soapers&lt;/span&gt;. So from this moment forth I promise to expand my computer, to broaden my horizons and to break down and learn &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;photoshop&lt;/span&gt;. As god is my witness Baby Girl shall never just be an e-machine again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Just for the record, BG is on lockdown and no male fingers touch her. Never again will keys be popped off!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-1299242848695158102?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1299242848695158102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=1299242848695158102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/1299242848695158102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/1299242848695158102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/03/computer-woes.html' title='Computer Woes'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-5814862572535445716</id><published>2008-03-06T12:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T12:43:51.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Desk Improvements</title><content type='html'>In order to cut down on excessive bathroom breaks, Hell has taken steps to improve productivity. We now all have our own Potties at our desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2134/2314530353_86340e7b74.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2134/2314530353_86340e7b74.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I love prizes better than anyone but this one is just a tad bit crappy! &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(OK it really does make me laugh but I'm not telling that part of it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-5814862572535445716?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5814862572535445716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=5814862572535445716' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5814862572535445716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5814862572535445716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/03/desk-improvements.html' title='Desk Improvements'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-2150802272279851285</id><published>2008-03-04T09:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T10:30:21.828-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Spy With My Little Brown Eye</title><content type='html'>As I pulled into the Metro parking lot this morning, I couldn't help but bust up laughing. This so just made my day. Parked right on out there in the open for everyone to see was this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3185/2310781852_ae0f848394.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3185/2310781852_ae0f848394.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm such a trend setter!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rock On Holly Hobby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-2150802272279851285?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2150802272279851285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=2150802272279851285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2150802272279851285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/2150802272279851285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-spy-with-my-little-brown-eye.html' title='I Spy With My Little Brown Eye'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-3789435592585474360</id><published>2008-02-22T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T14:25:16.172-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cover That Baby Up</title><content type='html'>Somewhere in the black hole that I have in my car I have lost my ice scraper. This is a bad thing because we are having some crappy here in St. Louis and that ice scraper would sure come in handy. Now, if nothing, I am very creative so the first day that I had ice I pulled out my old Rhodes credit card and went to town on the windshield. Let me tell you, this is a really long and really cold way to get ice off your windshield. Not to mention that if you are over zealous in your scraping the credit card will snap right in half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something had to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me present my alternative to scraping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2082/2284786616_3ac6d370db.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2082/2284786616_3ac6d370db.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah, so my car has a Holly Hobby quilt on it.  My car is now sitting in a parking lot, in E. St. Louis wearing a blanket and I think she is adorable and.....CREATIVE!! That's right, all I have to do is pull that blanket up and my windows are ice free. I will be sitting in my car looking out at all the scrapers doing their thing and laughing my big ole warm tushy off. Ms. Holly Hobby blanket will go in the trunk until I get home then I will pull it out and let it dry in the garage until she is next needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And do you want to know what the best part of this story is?  There is no way in hell I will lose my car in the parking lot today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-3789435592585474360?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3789435592585474360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=3789435592585474360' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/3789435592585474360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/3789435592585474360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/02/cover-that-baby-up.html' title='Cover That Baby Up'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7362722098952230259</id><published>2008-02-14T08:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T08:22:07.760-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='valentines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bracelet'/><title type='text'>I Got A Prize</title><content type='html'>And here I thought Valentines Days was going to be depressing and sad. I was sitting here, minding my own business, being extremely jealous over my cousin and her prizes when my boss walked up and handed me a cute little purse bag. His granddaughter made prizes for everyone in the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2217/2264506555_6d059cf921.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2217/2264506555_6d059cf921.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know which I like more, the cute little purse bag or the bracelet. Either way it was very sweet of her and I am thrilled over both!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7362722098952230259?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7362722098952230259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7362722098952230259' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7362722098952230259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7362722098952230259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-got-prize.html' title='I Got A Prize'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-5426117582195889143</id><published>2008-02-13T14:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T14:39:33.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Fought The Phone and the Phone Won</title><content type='html'>Every day that I work and usually the day after I work at the Bookstore, I like to slip down to Hell's storage area, which we will call "the 4th floor", and take a nap. We are not talking luxury. We are talking about a chair in the corner with my feet propped up on an open file drawer. There is no heat on the 4th floor so I take my coat down with me and wrap up with it. Usually I pull the hood down over my eyes so that it blocks out all light and I am all set for an hour. Amazingly enough I can fall asleep with in 5 minutes so I get a pretty good little nap down there. I also sleep really hard so the first thing I do is to make sure the alarm on my phone is set. I would hate to sleep until 4ish and actually have to have one of the co-workers come down and get me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I got all cozy settled in and dozed off when there was a really loud, annoying beep from my phone. What tha hell??? I popped up out of the chair and almost broke and ankle trying to get my feet of the file drawer as I scrambled for my phone. There was no call, there was no message, there was just my screen saver looking at me. I sort of thought I had lost my mind and maybe dreamed the whole thing. I settled back in and again right as I dozed off this BEEP sounded again. Again I checked the whole phone out. I shook it. I squeezed it really tight because we all know a good shake and a squeeze should fix it, right? Nope, again the thing beeped only this time I was ready for it. A nice little alert of Low Battery flashed across the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Low Battery??? Did my phone lose its mind? I plugged the thing in last night. It had a full charge at 8 am this morning. I have made no calls today. It has just been sitting on my desk holding down so papers. How could it lose a charge that quick? Have I mentioned that I hate this phone as it is so this did not sit well. It was actually, pretty much, pissing me off. I started searching for the alert turner off’er thing. I went through every button there was on my phone. I hit every sound alert, every ringtone, every anything that looked like it could be connected with that annoying loud beep. Every three minutes the phone would taunt me with a beep and off I would go in a different direction looking for that alert. The phone was so winning this battle. That’s ok, I was fixing to win the war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled out my big guns. I called *2. That’s right, baby, customer service. Things were getting serious. I was losing sleep time here. I needed a nap dammit and the phone situation was not helping my crabbiness. Customer Service was going to be my knight in shining armor. They were going to slay the beep (I really need to lay off the romance novels). Oh the horror, oh the pain when I discovered Customer Service SUCKED.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first attempt at help got me the automated lady. She could not understand me. Yes and no did not compute. Yes and no screamed in a high pitch hissy fit was also pretty much a no go too so off she sent me to a real live person. God help me. This is where Jamie from somewhere far far away came into this story. Im sure Jamie was very nice but Jamie had to ask me a gazillion and 1 questions before he could get into my account. Jamie was not amused when I asked him if he trained at Ft. Knox. It’s a cell phone for cripes sake. So we go through the whole question, secret question, top secret secret question and what’s your hobby question to finally get into my account. Jamie then wanted to know if I wanted to pay my bill. No Jamie, just make the beep stop. Jamie got snippy with me and said, “Just go to the alerts.” Now excuse me Jamie, I did dammit. (OK I cussed Jamie) Jamie gave me the whole I hope we provided you with excellent service speel, let me send you to someone else. I think I might have pissed Jamie off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZAP, away I went with my phone beeping every two minutes now due to a really low battery. I was transferred to Terrell this time. Terrell was very nice and did not sound so far far away. What I did not like about Terrell is that Terrell had to ask me the same questions that Jamie had to ask me. Terrell also was not amused when I asked if he trained at Ft. Knox. I explained the problem to Terrell and managed to only whine 8 or 9 times and to only say damn twice. Terrell was of no help. Terrell had not a clue what I was talking about. Terrell made me speak in tongues. I swear I was pretty much foaming at the mouth over this. The whole time my phone is happily beeping away and letting me know that the battery was really getting really low. Terrell finally gave up. That’s right he quit helping me. His parting advice was to just go into the store and they MIGHT…MIGHT…. be able to help me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to add insult to injury, right as Terrell suggested this, my phone shut down. Not only did it turn off but it played a happy little tune when it did. It was all I could do not to wing the phone up against the wall. It was also all I could do not to cry because the worst part of the whole story is that with all the fighting and fussing I had spent almost an entire hour dealing with the phone and had lost my nap as well as a bit of my dignity by letting an electronic device get the better of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now the moral of the story is…. Just go ahead and sleep until 4ish. Honestly, your co-workers would rather you do that than have to hear you whine that you are sleepy and about how much you hate your phone for the rest of the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-5426117582195889143?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5426117582195889143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=5426117582195889143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5426117582195889143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5426117582195889143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-fought-phone-and-phone-won.html' title='I Fought The Phone and the Phone Won'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-5146942089822838719</id><published>2008-02-12T14:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T14:45:50.251-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff I Have Learned Today</title><content type='html'>When someone at work says have it done by Thursday they really mean that it needs to be done by Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never suggest brown tassely shoes to someone with small feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you cook the popcorn for 2:20 it will be burnt in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't wear socks with your tennis shoes then by 4:00 your feet will be squishy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beef stick and croutons make a crappy snack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there is no heat on in the storage unit then there is a good chance you are going to freeze if you go down there at lunch to take a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never say you will work your second job two days straight because by the second day you will be grumpy tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I think that is pretty much all I learned today. I'm sure the Bookstore will have some other wonderful life lessons for me when I get there. I did have to laugh the other day. I was in the travel section which is by the bathroom and overheard a dad and son having one of THOSE conversations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D - Did you wipe your butt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S - I think so, I don't remember (how does one not remember if they wiped or not)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D - Well did you go poop?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S - Yeah, I just don't remember if I wiped or not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D - Come here so I can smell you (this is where I peeped around the corner to see what was going on and the dad was just kind of sniffing the air around the kid)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D - Well you don't smell at least...did you remember to wash your hands?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid walked off in a stomp. I'm not sure if that was a yes or a no but I made sure to kind of watch the area and not touch anything that he did just in case. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing is for sure, I have a feeling that for the rest of my life, I will always remember to wipe my butt AND to wash my hands after I poop, thanks to that dad!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-5146942089822838719?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5146942089822838719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=5146942089822838719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5146942089822838719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5146942089822838719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/02/stuff-i-have-learned-today.html' title='Stuff I Have Learned Today'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-7961518885094092173</id><published>2008-02-11T08:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T08:23:45.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Will Never Take Me Alive, Coppers!</title><content type='html'>I am so gangster you just have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning a miracle occurred and I was actually early leaving out for the Bookstore. I was feeling good, well rested, a bit in awe of myself because, I think, this is the first time I have been early in awhile. I hopped in the car, cranked the radio up and off I went down the highway. I was even more pleased when &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You Sexy Thang&lt;/span&gt; came on the radio. For some reason I can not sit still when I hear this song and it also brings out the urge in me to sing. It seems that it also brings out the urge in me to press my foot down on the gas. So there I was, singing, car dancing and speeding down the road when I saw my worst nightmare heading in the other direction.  There he was in all his red and white glory, one of St. Clair’s finest, ye ole sheriff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course as soon as I spotted him I stopped dancing, slammed on the brakes, turned the radio down and started cussing. He had me. He had me flat out and he knew it. I watched as he slowly made his way over to the other lane and looked for a place to whip a U-turn. Now here is where I lost my mind. Since he knew he got me and I knew he got me and the truck in front of me knew he got me I decided to cut the poor guy a break and not make him chase me down. I decided that it would be just as easy for him to give me a ticket in the rest area as it would on the side of the road that way he would not have to walk on the highway. See, I was being thoughtful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled into the rest area and down into the car park area. I went ahead and wrestled my license out of my wallet and was in the process of getting my insurance card out of my glove box when I saw Sir Sheriff pull in to the rest area. I admit that my heart was beating a mile a minute and that I was not looking forward to having to deal with this so early on a Sunday morning but he had got me so I braced myself. The red and white cruiser pulled slowly into the rest area. I watched his every move in my rear view mirror and desperately tried not to make eye contact. The car slowed as it went passed the parked cars. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. (I think I might have pee’d my pants a little too)  Closer and closer he got to me and I was sweating bullets. As I watched he pulled up right behind me….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then slowly slid past. WTF??? YOOOOUUUUHOOOOO Mr. Ye Old Sheriff, here I am!!! I felt like waving my hands to get his attention…. but I didn’t. I just sat there watching him looking at all the other cars that were parked. As he made his way out of the rest area and took off down the highway I was dazed and confused. Did I just pull a sneaky? Did this actually work? Is he tricking me? When I pull out on the highway is he going to be sitting there with a big ole Sheriff’s grin and a huge ticket because I’m a dumbass? Oh so many questions were whipping around in my head. So many questions, in fact, that I didn’t take a chance on moving for a good 10 minutes just in case. So many questions, in fact again, that when I did move I did it at a very slow rate of speed. There was also no singing or seat dancing going on just a constant chant of, “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you” coming from my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here is the good news/bad news thing. The good news is I ducked out of a ticket that I could not afford but the bad news was I was 15 minutes late for the Bookstore. Im pretty sure as I clocked in I heard this voice chuckling and saying, “No matter how hard you try you will never be on time.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pulling my fedora low down low and striking that laid back gangster pose. &lt;/span&gt;It's ok universe, bring it on.   Just call me Babyface Flynn!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-7961518885094092173?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7961518885094092173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=7961518885094092173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7961518885094092173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/7961518885094092173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/02/you-will-never-take-me-alive-coppers.html' title='You Will Never Take Me Alive, Coppers!'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-5796337892559995685</id><published>2008-01-26T22:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T08:26:54.214-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><title type='text'>10 Things</title><content type='html'>You ever have one of those days where you just wish you could run away from home. I think this all stems from being overly jealous of a co-worker who is moving and pretty much starting over. I want to start over. I want a nice house with pretty paint on the walls. I want a $40 power bill. I mulled this over and over in my head until it pretty much made me sick to my stomach. I want, I want, I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for the Big Girl Panties Ang. If you want then why don't you get? Buck up self. This is your life and instead of whining and crying over what you can't have lets try working on what you can have. &lt;i&gt;I think this might be where I slap myself in the head&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goals, I need goals. I need realistic goals and a cut off date. So here we go. I'm going to start with 10 things. 10 things that I want to have or do by my birthday. That gives me 6 months to work on them. With these things I also have to work on paying my bills and getting my finances under control, that is part of he deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Paint my bedroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Get Ipod docking stations for the house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Plant a tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Buy a lawn mower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Get a pedicure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Lose 20 pounds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Go away for a weekend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Get a dishwasher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Go on, at least 3 job interviews&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) &lt;strike&gt;Clean the basement out&lt;/strike&gt; and start working on the soap lab&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what happens if I don't do this. That's the beauty part. It will be my loss. I here by take responsibility for my unhappiness and here is my chance to take it. With 10 little steps I have the ability to show myself that I can do it. I can achieve what I want and it's all with in my grasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So other than being a green person, I'm actually doing OK. I do wish that I would get my W-2's from Borders just so I could get my taxes done. I need money fast to pay my power bill. You see I kind of didn't pay it last month because I didn't have the money and now it is $1026. That made my heart stop when I saw it. It will be fine. I will manage around but things are going to be very very tight until I get it paid off. I just wish C would get a job. It would just help so much if he would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on that depressing note I'm going to head to bed. I have to be at work tomorrow at 8:45 and I need my full 7 hours of beauty sleep or I will be a booger all day. Honestly, I do try my best to contain my inner booger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night all, sleep well and just keep watching the goals...I have hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-5796337892559995685?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5796337892559995685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=5796337892559995685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5796337892559995685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/5796337892559995685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/01/10-things.html' title='10 Things'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-4147421852760072278</id><published>2008-01-23T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T21:31:08.019-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF</title><content type='html'>I have been bit by a tiny vampire. I was laying in bed, playing on the computer when I looked down and noticed these marks on my arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSCF0055.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/DSCF0055.jpg" border="0" alt="Ouch" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two tiny red marks that were side by side. On closer investigation I discovered 1) the underside of my arm really needs to see some sun because that color is just unnatural 2) damn, I have some flabby arms and 3) it's really hard to take a clear picture of the underside of your arm 4) I'm a tough old bird because they are not punctures, they look more like blood blisters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now does this mean that the wee little vampire tried to bite me and I was so leathery that he could only mash the skin and not break it? Have I deprived a tiny blood sucker from a meal because of this? Is said tiny vampire lurking around waiting for a better angle? Do I just have skin rot and there is no such thing as a tiny vampire other than fleas which I better not have in my bed or there will be a whole herd of cats out in the yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh the things I ponder on a Wednesday night before bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-4147421852760072278?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/4147421852760072278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=4147421852760072278' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4147421852760072278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4147421852760072278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/01/wtf.html' title='WTF'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3685162831339114714.post-4603467278400527085</id><published>2008-01-23T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T09:46:35.675-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='camera'/><title type='text'>Well Crap</title><content type='html'>Did you ever have one of those days? Everything is going fine, you have high hopes, you have a project that needs to be done so that you can get it back in the mail and sure as shooting something horrible happens. Yup, welcome to my world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I volunteered to host a "Flat Amy" for a K-1 project. I was going to brave the cold and take Amy out to the Arch then down by the river to the Louis &amp;amp; Clark statue and take pictures of this adventure. There were going to be pictures of us riding on the metro train, pictures of us at work playing on the phone, pictures of the co-workers doing their thing, when the unthinkable happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/?action=view&amp;amp;current=camera-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v621/angher_7_15/camera-1.jpg" border="0" alt="camera" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya see that wee tiny little silver blop right in front of the camera? That, my friends, is a screw. That tiny little screw fell out from BEHIND the lens. I kid you not. Now, one would not think that such a tiny little thing could not have such a big impact on the camera, huh? WRONG! That tiny little screw is what holds the lens in. Without this screw my poor camera has a googley eye. The lens just springs out and hangs there dangling in the wind. I was horrified by this. I love my camera. It's old, but still we have had some great times. How dare that little screw mess my day up like this. How dare that screw cause my camera to have the crazy eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ranted, raved and even almost shed a tear over this when I noticed that my e-mail alert popped up. I love e-mails, even the junk ones, so I flipped over to see if I was going to get to make my penis (which I dont have) grow or just make it hard as a rock. Or maybe it would be one of my flower catalogs that I dream from. How about weight loss? I know everyone loves buying weight loss drugs from lord knows who but that promise of a quick fix is always a lure. No, to my astonishment it was an catalog from Tiger Direct. HOT DAMN, it was a sign from heaven. It had to be. One broken camera and an ad for a new camera, oh yes, the gods were working with me and telling me to let my old friend go and to get a new, sleeker, megapixiel friend. I swear this is what they were telling me.  Now, you ask me how I know for sure this is what they meant....very easy, right after the Tiger Direct catalog I got an application for Debt Reduction/Personal Loan!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Them Gods...they are always looking out for the little folks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3685162831339114714-4603467278400527085?l=2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/feeds/4603467278400527085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3685162831339114714&amp;postID=4603467278400527085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4603467278400527085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3685162831339114714/posts/default/4603467278400527085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2mylittlecorner.blogspot.com/2008/01/well-crap.html' title='Well Crap'/><author><name>JustAroundTheCorner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04432360096571979382</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
