<?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-7573177172124825712</id><updated>2011-11-27T22:16:22.359-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Missing Piece</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>122</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-8945585671230446536</id><published>2011-04-18T21:09:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T21:28:26.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Who Came To Town! (I even included pictures)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RCdD0QoZMVI/TazvTFoJITI/AAAAAAAAAVI/EBrhUuSWHaA/s1600/Laura%2527s%2BRed%2BCamera%2B391.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RCdD0QoZMVI/TazvTFoJITI/AAAAAAAAAVI/EBrhUuSWHaA/s400/Laura%2527s%2BRed%2BCamera%2B391.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597111548121784626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, my old roommate from college, Elissa and her sister Kirsten came to town for a visit.  They were came in on a Friday night, and left the next Wednesday.  We had quite the visit in between.  The point of the trip was to see the cherry blossoms down on the Mall, but we definitely got a lot more than that done.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls spent the first day at the Bull Run Battlefields (after missing the bus to get to the Metro downtown).  Friday night we stayed the night at the JW Marriot.  I wasn't that impressed.  I even tried their $75 robes.  My robe is much nicer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we did more walking than I care to remember.  We saw all of the monuments, the former Italian Embassy (it was practically in Maryland!), the Library of Congress, and even went under to all the tunnels that connect the Library and all of the House office buildings.  This doesn't even touch the surface of your trek!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was church day, and then that evening, we were off to.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eo9BHb-wHos/Tazw3FnAxdI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/DV12CTlb1yg/s1600/Laura%2527s%2BRed%2BCamera%2B409.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eo9BHb-wHos/Tazw3FnAxdI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/DV12CTlb1yg/s400/Laura%2527s%2BRed%2BCamera%2B409.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597113266103961042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday was spent in Philly.  We spent the night at a Residence Inn Sunday night, and I must say I thought it was much nicer than the JW Marriot.  Maybe I'm just too simple.  Philly was fun.  We saw the major historical sites and of course got a Philly Cheesesteak!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was mostly stuff in town.  We spent a lot of the day in Falls Church going through cemeteries.  We were looking for the grave of Edgar Alan Poe's doctor when he died.  Apparently he was once mayor of Falls Church.  We also went to Arlington National Cemetery.  We saw the big stuff there and also stopped at my grandpa's grave.  He served in the Korean War and Vietnam.  Now we have a pass to drive through the cemetery, and we don't have to pay and park in the Visitor's Lot!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was a fun trip!  It's always fun to play these girls.  I don't get to see them enough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zW32AvrW-Yk/TazyPBLd8qI/AAAAAAAAAVY/IbWYaGakYbY/s1600/Laura%2527s%2BRed%2BCamera%2B388.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zW32AvrW-Yk/TazyPBLd8qI/AAAAAAAAAVY/IbWYaGakYbY/s400/Laura%2527s%2BRed%2BCamera%2B388.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597114776743178914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8945585671230446536?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8945585671230446536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8945585671230446536&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8945585671230446536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8945585671230446536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2011/04/look-who-came-to-town-i-even-included.html' title='Look Who Came To Town! (I even included pictures)'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/-RCdD0QoZMVI/TazvTFoJITI/AAAAAAAAAVI/EBrhUuSWHaA/s72-c/Laura%2527s%2BRed%2BCamera%2B391.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-3432725126724439070</id><published>2011-03-06T20:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T21:06:53.181-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Has The Time Gone?</title><content type='html'>So it's been almost two years since I last posted. I wouldn't be surprised if I no longer have any followers, but that' okay. However, if there is anyone out there instead of writing a long post to try to catch up on the last two years, I'll just post in list form. I guess only time will tell whether or not I keep it up. So without further adieu, here is my last two years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In February 2009, I started a temp job working in an HR department at a hospital, hired permanently in June 2009&lt;br /&gt;Completed two 10K's in Richmond&lt;br /&gt;Traveled to Utah twice&lt;br /&gt;Went to New York 4 times&lt;br /&gt;Made a trip to Denver&lt;br /&gt;Played at the beach a few times &lt;br /&gt;Bought a brand new car&lt;br /&gt;Earned my PHR in June 2010&lt;br /&gt;Passed the record of the time I've stayed in one job since college&lt;br /&gt;Got promoted at my job after two years (okay it’s not happening for three more weeks, but it’s effective in April)&lt;br /&gt;Grilled food on a grill myself for the first time (did it twice in one summer)&lt;br /&gt;Served as Activities Chair in my Ward&lt;br /&gt;Currently a Gospel Doctrine Instructor&lt;br /&gt;Spent some time in Boston and Salem Massachusetts &lt;br /&gt;Got a season pass to Kings Dominion &lt;br /&gt;Worked hard on getting a good tan last summer&lt;br /&gt;I saw two friends leave on missions, one join the army, and too many to count get married.  &lt;br /&gt;I took by brother out to school at BYU.  He graduated from High School in June, and I got to play the part of mom when I took him out there.  &lt;br /&gt;I was set apart as a Temple Worker at the Washington DC Temple (I did that previously before moving to NYC)&lt;br /&gt;I gave 3 or 4 talks in Sacrament Meeting&lt;br /&gt;Saw Diddy’s Car he was riding in.(That’s not really much of an accomplishment)&lt;br /&gt;Attended 7 concerts&lt;br /&gt;I’ve played basketball through church and play with a group regularly. &lt;br /&gt;I took up Zumba! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I’m sure I’ve done a whole lot more in the past few years, but I can’t think of anything else right now.  My goal this year though is to try to write on here more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-3432725126724439070?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/3432725126724439070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=3432725126724439070&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3432725126724439070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3432725126724439070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2011/03/where-has-time-gone.html' title='Where Has The Time Gone?'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-7513433515062731497</id><published>2009-02-26T23:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T23:30:35.854-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Slacker</title><content type='html'>So I haven't posted anything for a while.  I will have to post an update, but I'm getting ready for bed so I will do this quick Tag.  I was excited to see that a friend tagged me a few weeks ago when I was playing catch-up on my blog reading.  I'm still way behind.  As usual, I'm not going to tag anyone else so just enjoy my info.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was tagged.&lt;br /&gt;Here are the rules:&lt;br /&gt;1. Post rules on blog&lt;br /&gt;2.Answer the 6 questions with 8 items&lt;br /&gt;3.Tag 8 people-Not going to do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Favorite TV Shows:&lt;br /&gt;1. The Big Bang Theory&lt;br /&gt;2. Boston Legal&lt;br /&gt;3. The Office&lt;br /&gt;4. Lost&lt;br /&gt;5. American Idol&lt;br /&gt;6. Boy Meets World&lt;br /&gt;7. Scrubs&lt;br /&gt;8. CSINY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Things I Did Yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;1. Went to Work&lt;br /&gt;2. Went to the Temple&lt;br /&gt;3. Watched American Idol&lt;br /&gt;4. Watched Lost&lt;br /&gt;5. Watched CSI NY (obviously, Wednesday is a big TV watching night for me. My tv watching comes in spurts, and right now it's in the higher end.  Sometimes I don't watch at all.)&lt;br /&gt;6. Read scriptures&lt;br /&gt;7. Forgot my dinner at work&lt;br /&gt;8. Learned more about the Mexican drug cartels which I grow more and more fascinated with everyday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Things I Look Forward To:&lt;br /&gt;1. The weekend&lt;br /&gt;2. Going to NYC in a few weeks&lt;br /&gt;3. Seeing Elissa&lt;br /&gt;4. The Law of Consecration&lt;br /&gt;5. Going back to school&lt;br /&gt;6. Seeing my grandma&lt;br /&gt;7.Chik-Fil-a (I don't even know how to spell this) opening near my house. &lt;br /&gt;8. And my little brother wants me to write, returning to Heavenly Father, which I have to agree with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Favorite Restaurants:&lt;br /&gt;1. Serendipity&lt;br /&gt;2. Big Daddy Diner&lt;br /&gt;3. Angelo's&lt;br /&gt;4. Brooklyn Diner&lt;br /&gt;5. Taco Bell&lt;br /&gt;6. Johnny Carino's&lt;br /&gt;7. Long John Silver's&lt;br /&gt;8. The Shake Shack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Things I Wish For:&lt;br /&gt;1. To have a theme song play everytime I walk into a room.&lt;br /&gt;2. All of the seasons of the shows that I want on DVD&lt;br /&gt;3. To learn how to write music so I can write movie scores&lt;br /&gt;4. To travel whenever I want&lt;br /&gt;5. My dad to join the church&lt;br /&gt;6. Happines&lt;br /&gt;7. To achieve all my goals&lt;br /&gt;8. I wish to go to the festival...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 People I Tagged:&lt;br /&gt;8 no ones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all because that are the friends that we have that blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7513433515062731497?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7513433515062731497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7513433515062731497&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7513433515062731497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7513433515062731497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2009/02/slacker.html' title='Slacker'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-1072880810069703472</id><published>2009-01-16T12:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T12:53:12.472-05:00</updated><title type='text'>At 5 In The Morning, People Walking To The Bathroom, On The Train, Look Drunk And Confused</title><content type='html'>This is what I observed as a I took am Amtrak train from NY's Penn Station to DC's Union Station at 3AM last Saturday.  This was my return train to my home, and I'm now living in Virginia again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone that reads my blog regularly knows that I had been living in NYC working as a nanny.  I haven't written too much about the actual position, but let's just say it was horrible. Once I got used to it, I enjoyed the city life, but I hated my position. So when I was home over Christmas, I really thought about what would be the best option for me.  If anyone has ever seen my decision making style, you would know that it's a most stressful event for all involved.  In the end, I decided that I needed to remove myself from the situation.  So when I got back, I gave my notice on Monday January 5, 2008.  I told them that I would stay until the 23rd of January or the 30th at the latest.  Well last Thursday, the 8th, my boss told me that they found a temporary person, and I could leave on Friday, and that is how I found myself on a 3AM train headed to DC.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm back in Virginia.  I miss the city a bit, and maybe I'll get a chance to return one day, but this is where I am for now.  I'm back in the job search and living at my parent's house again (hopefully temporarily).  I'm beginning to sense a pattern with myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-1072880810069703472?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/1072880810069703472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=1072880810069703472&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1072880810069703472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1072880810069703472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2009/01/at-5-in-morning-people-walking-to.html' title='At 5 In The Morning, People Walking To The Bathroom, On The Train, Look Drunk And Confused'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-6641795549173013186</id><published>2008-12-21T23:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T23:47:26.948-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'd Like To Take This Opportunity To Thank You Tube</title><content type='html'>So a few years ago( Who am I kidding? It's been almost 4 years since I've been out of college so it has to have been at least 5 years and not just a few.)they would show in theaters before movies.  My roommate, her sister, and I loved it.  I tried finding it a while back and was unsuccessful.  I just thought about it tonight and thought I should look it up on You Tube.  I don't know why I didn't do that before.  Well I found it, and ladies and gents I present to you, Deluxe 247.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/F-WtWH6_0kQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/F-WtWH6_0kQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Deluxe Son!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6641795549173013186?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6641795549173013186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6641795549173013186&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6641795549173013186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6641795549173013186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/12/id-like-to-take-this-opportunity-to.html' title='I&apos;d Like To Take This Opportunity To Thank You Tube'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-4251051792843009449</id><published>2008-12-18T20:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T00:42:11.421-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Mean To Toot My Own Horn...</title><content type='html'>So the apartment building I live in is doormen on duty 24 hours a day. I love all of the doorman and guys that work downstairs. I have a lot of fun with them. In fact two of them the other day invited me to their rap fight. They were joking, but the one had asked me if I had any Biggie or Eminem on my IPOD. I said no, as that is way old school, but I don't think they realize that I have a secret love for rap and the hip hop culture, but I digress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all these doormen range in all sorts of different ages. There are younger ones a little younger than me, and then there are some old enough to be my grandpa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I feel like there's this secret game of who can get in Laura's pants. OK, so it's not that serious, but I do have several admirers. Plus if they were playing that game with, the only getting in my pants is a party where all would have the opportunity to try on my pants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The first one is the guy that took me to the hospital when I blew my face off. He is definitely too old for, but he was interested to know if I called my boyfriend to let him know that I was in the hospital. He also passively tried to get me to take a dance class with him. One of the maintenance guys was teasing him one day while talking to me because he thought he was trying to impress me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Another one of the guys (he's a doorman/maintenance man. Some of them rotate posts) kept asking questions to find out whether or not I was single and informative questions. I must admit that I was excited because I had a mini crush on him. One day, he finally asked for my number. Sadly, we still haven't gone out. I was out of town for a few weeks, and I guess maybe he lost interest. I'm too nervous to ask him why we never went out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The next guy is one that I see all the time during the day when I'm downstairs doing laundry. It's like he just woke up one day and realized how beautiful I am. He referred to me as beautiful one day, and the next day he decided that we had never properly met (this isn't true, but I'm used to meeting people several times and not remembering that they met me. It's one of the curses of having a good memory.) He treats me very well now and always engages in conversation which he never did before. He also enjoys teasing me. I'm kind of intrigued my him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The last one I'm not sure about. He just started yesterday. He's really tall and kind of dorky, but I'm a sucker for dorky. I don't really know him enough yet so I don't know for sure his style. However, he winked at me several times today when I was walking by. Like I said, I don't know him well enough so I'm not sure the purpose for his wink. It's kind of cute because it's an odd wink, but I can't place my finger on why. It just seems kind of random , and there's nothing provoking the winking (except of course extremely good looks, warm inviting smile, and my sexy hello.) I'll see how this winking progresses; I could just be getting a head of myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, I find myself feeling pretty good about myself when I fraternize with the building workers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SUszyW49UCI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/I9eH5ReVvLc/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+444.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SUszyW49UCI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/I9eH5ReVvLc/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+444.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281371928252993570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Seriously, can you blame them?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-4251051792843009449?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/4251051792843009449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=4251051792843009449&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4251051792843009449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4251051792843009449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-dont-mean-to-toot-my-own-horn.html' title='I Don&apos;t Mean To Toot My Own Horn...'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/SUszyW49UCI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/I9eH5ReVvLc/s72-c/Laura%27s+Camera+444.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-2937861072187915824</id><published>2008-12-15T14:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T14:35:51.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>I love good, caring friends!  It makes me happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2937861072187915824?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2937861072187915824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2937861072187915824&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2937861072187915824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2937861072187915824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/12/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-3480832118411285594</id><published>2008-12-15T13:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T14:35:10.024-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Live In An Apartment Where A Music Video Was Filmed</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Uk-pCRhoD3w&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Uk-pCRhoD3w&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a music video that was filmed where I currently reside.  It was a couple of weekends ago.  They only used the kitchen, but you can see the infamous oven that nearly burnt off my face.  There are also two kids seeing in the background; one of them is the boy that I nanny.  At the end of the video, there are shots filmed in the studio, and he is the boy in the red shirt.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The artist in the video is Tina Devaron.  (www.tinadevaron.com)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-3480832118411285594?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/3480832118411285594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=3480832118411285594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3480832118411285594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3480832118411285594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-live-in-apartment-where-music-video.html' title='I Live In An Apartment Where A Music Video Was Filmed'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-8744169375977093884</id><published>2008-12-09T22:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T22:51:34.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Quirks!</title><content type='html'>OK so I was tagged forever ago so I thought I better do this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how this works..&lt;br /&gt;List 6 quirks about you..&lt;br /&gt;Tag 6 people..(Good news, I'm not tagging anyone. I love being tagged, but I hate tagging others so be at ease as you read; you don't have to worry about finding your name at the end.&lt;br /&gt;Tell who tagged you.. Julie S. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. OK, so I've improved with this over the past few years, but I used to be very OCD about it. Whenever the I would go through the Sunday Washington Post, I had a certain method to it. I would pull out all the sections and ads that I looked at. Then I would have to read them in a very specific order. My family used to take parts out just to drive me crazy and throw off my groove. It was very frustrating. As I said, I've gotten better and am not so OCD about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I do all sorts of strange things in my sleep (of course we all do, but I've got some good ones.) My mom caught me trying to go to the bathroom on the trash can once. I have made animal noises. My wrote a poem and recited it to my roommate as she was walking out the door to class. I often cross my legs when I'm laying on my back. I will bend one up, and then cross the other one over it. I also curl up into strange positions. One time my roommates couldn't find me because I was curled up into a ball at the top part of my bed, near the corner, and they did not realize a person was there. They just thought I was the blankets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. When I was younger, I used to have to always start a set of stairs on the right foot, and count them as I went. It would throw me off if I didn't start on the right foot, especially if I was using my home stairs because I didn't end on the correct foot. (Yes, I know there is no right or wrong foot in real life, but the OCD world of me, there is.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. A friend once told me that I laugh shamelessly, and it's true. I try to keep it as appropriate as possible, but when I think something is funny, I laugh. I feel no shame in letting my laughter heard, even if it means I'm the only one laughing. (It happened the other night at the movie theater.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Whenever I see a play or some sort of improv show, it always makes me wish that I had gone into acting and performance. I think it would be so much fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I am awesome at the game Honey I Love You, But I Just Can't Smile. I didn't realize until I played it a few months ago. I think it's something I perfected over the years. One person there thought I of all people couldn't do it. Though I laugh shamelessly, I can also control it. I think that's why when my roommates and I made prank phone calls Freshmen Year (Don't judge me, I was living in Rexburg, ID, and it was a tough winter) I was the one that always made the calls. I was the only that could do it without laughing. We made a lot of friends this way and even got my roommate a date once....only in Rexburg.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8744169375977093884?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8744169375977093884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8744169375977093884&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8744169375977093884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8744169375977093884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/12/six-quirks.html' title='Six Quirks!'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-1484334615040849441</id><published>2008-11-24T00:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T00:11:52.634-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Post</title><content type='html'>So I don't have a good title for this post. I am excited to write about my weekend, but I'm too tired now, and I want to give it my all (as requested by Hot Cup) so I'm just going to do a quick little post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two main points. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Today I was talking to an old friend on the phone. My friend told me of an epiphany that they had recently, and I just had to do one of those smack yourself in the forehead and say "duh!" smacks. My friends epiphany is one that was obvious my most, but I guess people have to find out things on their own &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I discovered a new fun game on Facebook. I'm going to find events that are open events and reply that I am not attending. The funny part (at least in my little brain) is, it's for events I'm not even invited too. I love it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-1484334615040849441?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/1484334615040849441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=1484334615040849441&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1484334615040849441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1484334615040849441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/11/post.html' title='Post'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-823437508717621150</id><published>2008-11-21T13:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T14:54:33.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Post Where I Talk About the Celebrities  I've Seen In The Past Week</title><content type='html'>As I've mentioned before I'm not ashamed at how star struck I can be, and this week was no exception. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday I was taking the boy I nanny to Tai Kwan Do. After I dropped him off, I ran to the store real quick, and then headed back to class. I was on the phone when, I look into the class, and there is Al Roker from the Today Show! He was sitting with his son while watching his daughter in class. I was sitting next to his wife. I learned a lot about him and his family by observation. To keep his life private, I won't air it all on here, but I will say I rode the elevator with him...I was too nervous to talk to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fun doesn't stop there. There were signs posted up within a three block radius of where I live posted this week. It was instructed cars that they couldn't park there on Thursday because of filming. They were filming for the NBC show Lipstick Jungle. I've never watched it, but I've heard of it. So Thursday was a filled with trailer after trailer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't spend the whole day out there, but when I was out I would canvass the place to figure out what was going down. I found the actors' trailers. They threw me at first because they were labeled with the name of the characters on the show (sneaky) During the day all I could really figure out was where the snack trailers were. I also saw a sign that filming was until 2AM. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went out after the kids were in bed. And there I stood at 10PM in the freezing cold (I was too dumb to bring a hat and gloves.)I was able to find where they were filming, and I was set for the duration. I stood by watching. I was close enough that I could've been part of the crew. I was even tempted to grab a chicken finger when they were passing them around. Then all of a sudden it was time and there was Brooke Shields! It was quite exciting. It was even more excited, for me, when there was Andrew McCarthy. (I'm too lazy to make one of those links to Wikipedia to tell you who he is, but he is one of the Original Brat Pack from the 80's. I've always loved him. He's adorable. So there he was. I think he was directing this episode or had something to do with the filming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood with a lady and her dog. She asked them earlier if her dog could be in it. Some crew man told us that for 30 minutes of TV, they film 80 hours and usually work 14-16 hour days. It takes 9 days for one episode. That's crazy, not to mention how darn cold it was out there. I was also asked twice if I was there with the extras. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few takes, it was a wrap. As I stood on the outskirts of the circle, Brooke gave us a rousing speech on how fun it's been and how she has good hopes for them and hopes they will all be on for Season 3. Champagne was passed around, and it was a good time. Everyone was clapping and hugging. It was an emotional time, and I was there for it. Everyone hit the bars afterwards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some things that I learned from this experience: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Filming takes a long time. ( I also watched them set up once for a Sprint commercial in Times Square that is being run right now. I ended up getting bored watching.) &lt;br /&gt;2. When an actor is in their trailer, there is a little light that comes on, placed on the outside. &lt;br /&gt;3. Smoking makes you look rough. (Andrew is/was a smoker, I'm not sure of his present smoking status, and he looked rough.&lt;br /&gt;4. All of our world's energy goes to powering all of the actor's trailers, wardrobe, food trailers, etc. &lt;br /&gt;5. I really want a career as the canteen girl on set. I watched the guy at the above mentioned Spring commercial stock the food table, and it was amazing. It was ridiculous how much food there was. And it was like times 10 for Lipstick Jungle. I think it would be a fun job. I love being in charge of refreshments. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, they told me the episode will be on tonight at 10pm. So if you watch, no the part where Brooke Shield's daughter throwing up in the trash is right on 5th Ave, and I was right in front of them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-823437508717621150?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/823437508717621150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=823437508717621150&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/823437508717621150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/823437508717621150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/11/post-where-i-talk-about-celebrities-ive.html' title='A Post Where I Talk About the Celebrities  I&apos;ve Seen In The Past Week'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-8387467900912728911</id><published>2008-11-11T21:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T21:08:12.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back In Action</title><content type='html'>Well it's almost been a week, and tonight I was back in the heat of action.  Yes, I returned to using the oven.  I must say I was very nervous, but I sill have a face and hands.  Thank you all who express their concern when I almost blew off my face.  And yes, Iggy I agree they need a new oven.  I believe one is in store when they redo their kitchen...in the summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8387467900912728911?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8387467900912728911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8387467900912728911&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8387467900912728911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8387467900912728911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/11/back-in-action.html' title='Back In Action'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-8434389298763167024</id><published>2008-11-06T22:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T23:12:28.018-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>I'm doing much better today. I'm able to type this without my hand being in pain extreme pain. As long as I don't rub it on anything, I'm okay. My face is kind of stiff. The worst part is the left side of my face. I had mascara on my eye lashes, and I think when they got burned, it got burned on. I can't get it off. I'm afraid to pull because my eye lashes are so short now. I must say it's weird to have your eye lids burned. I'm excited to stop wearing the Ointment so I don't look like so much of a grease face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so there were a couple of requests for pictures so I to please my adoring fans, I am posting. I must say that it really just looks like a bad sunburn. You can see the eyebrow a bit. I tried the best I could to capture the lost of hair. It looks like I gave myself a little buzz right at the top. You really don't notice unless you know about it, and you look up close. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I can't say how blessed I was. The more I think about it, the more I realize how scary it really was. I keep having flash backs of a flame flying in my face. I'm going to get checked out tomorrow. They wanted me to come in for a follow-up. If anything is wrong, I'll let you know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So enjoy the pictures. (So try your best to see the short hairs. Also I realized that you really can't tell how bad my hand really looks, mainly because I have stubby little gnome hands, and I have a natural red tint. As the maintenance man Irving told me, I always just look a little red.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-rzs_CyI/AAAAAAAAATw/NiLF-MvfI_U/s1600-h/Blown+Up+Face+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-rzs_CyI/AAAAAAAAATw/NiLF-MvfI_U/s400/Blown+Up+Face+007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265762049148783394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-rzsCb1I/AAAAAAAAATo/q8qpANJrilU/s1600-h/Blown+Up+Face+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-rzsCb1I/AAAAAAAAATo/q8qpANJrilU/s400/Blown+Up+Face+006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265762049144811346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-riatrII/AAAAAAAAATg/pf7PjVEUqp4/s1600-h/Blown+Up+Face+005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-riatrII/AAAAAAAAATg/pf7PjVEUqp4/s400/Blown+Up+Face+005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265762044508744834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-rcA6loI/AAAAAAAAATY/55lyJbKSyj8/s1600-h/Blown+Up+Face+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-rcA6loI/AAAAAAAAATY/55lyJbKSyj8/s400/Blown+Up+Face+004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265762042789926530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-rOSDgFI/AAAAAAAAATQ/FpllYnGTcDo/s1600-h/Blown+Up+Face+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-rOSDgFI/AAAAAAAAATQ/FpllYnGTcDo/s400/Blown+Up+Face+002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265762039103717458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO_J5G6peI/AAAAAAAAAUI/ob3Ufujyd4w/s1600-h/Blown+Up+Face+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO_J5G6peI/AAAAAAAAAUI/ob3Ufujyd4w/s400/Blown+Up+Face+009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265762565995800034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO_JlUT-VI/AAAAAAAAAUA/E2OEGtxs0W8/s1600-h/Blown+Up+Face+010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO_JlUT-VI/AAAAAAAAAUA/E2OEGtxs0W8/s400/Blown+Up+Face+010.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265762560683276626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO_JtwrQMI/AAAAAAAAAT4/2mDagfqKkRU/s1600-h/Blown+Up+Face+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO_JtwrQMI/AAAAAAAAAT4/2mDagfqKkRU/s400/Blown+Up+Face+008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265762562949726402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8434389298763167024?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8434389298763167024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8434389298763167024&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8434389298763167024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8434389298763167024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/11/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/SRO-rzs_CyI/AAAAAAAAATw/NiLF-MvfI_U/s72-c/Blown+Up+Face+007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-4289840869616009799</id><published>2008-11-06T00:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T00:16:50.117-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Hot Hot</title><content type='html'>So I spent some time in the ER tonight. I was preparing to cook dinner, and the stove that my employers have is very old. You have to light it. Well when I lit it, the flame came back in my face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing well. I only have first degree burns. It's possible that my index finger and thumb could have second degree. I'm struggling to type this. I had two freaked out kids mainly due to the burnt hair smell. My mother had to chuckle because the first thing I did was run to a mirror to see if I had eyebrows. I have to go back Friday to make sure it doesn't get worse. I mainly look like I got a bad sunburn, plus a little bit of singed eyebrow and part of my hair. I actually looked quite frazzled on the ends. After I showered, I realized it wasn't too bad. I was really nervous because my hair is already thin, and I lost a few chunks. My eye lashes are shorter, and I did lose a bit of eyebrow. The worst part is last night I did some long overdue plucking. The brow that got burnt the most was the one that got a little over plucked. Had I known I would burn them off, I would have skipped the &lt;br /&gt;plucking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got in and out of the hospital fairly quick. I was nervous because the emergency room was packed. One of our building workers took me and stayed with me the whole time. I got all the good gossip on our door men and maintenance men. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All, and all, I'm doing amazingly well. My hair still smells, and my fingers are killing me. I'm icing up and have ointment (though the ointment looks like I rubbed Vaseline all over my face). I think my face will be fine, and my hair will grow back. I was extremely blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-4289840869616009799?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/4289840869616009799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=4289840869616009799&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4289840869616009799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4289840869616009799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/11/hot-hot-hot.html' title='Hot Hot Hot'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-1800229425986911419</id><published>2008-11-03T10:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T10:49:42.644-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Believe I Forgot!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ8dKUfSY0I/AAAAAAAAATI/JQ-AkQ5csR4/s1600-h/nyc+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ8dKUfSY0I/AAAAAAAAATI/JQ-AkQ5csR4/s400/nyc+016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264458552555234114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The always funny and lovable, Seth Myers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little sad that I didn't see Tina Fey or Keenan Thompson. However, I did see Keenan Thompson years ago at a concert at Nissan Pavilion. A lot of the cast was there from Nickelodeon's show 'All That'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-1800229425986911419?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/1800229425986911419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=1800229425986911419&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1800229425986911419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1800229425986911419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-cant-believe-i-forgot.html' title='I Can&apos;t Believe I Forgot!'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ8dKUfSY0I/AAAAAAAAATI/JQ-AkQ5csR4/s72-c/nyc+016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-7089418785010304122</id><published>2008-11-02T22:24:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T00:01:16.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Live From New York...</title><content type='html'>As mentioned in a previous post, my present interests are in my celebrity crushes. That continues to remain the same. However, depending on what I'm viewing at the time determines my crushes. I've really been into Saturday Night Live this season. Even when the skits are stupid, I love it. I have a crush on about half of the male cast. Being in NYC, I have an even greater love for the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well last night a friend and I went over the Rockefeller Plaza where the show is taped. We watched all the people with tickets go through Security since the Secret Service was there for John McCain. We didn't actually go to the show because we didn't have tickets. However, we waited around until after the show to see what we could see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, we ended up seeing John and Cindy McCain. They were in a black Suburban, but Cindy they both gave us a wave. Then we went to another side of the building where the actors came out of. I have no shame in admitting that I am a very star struck person. I know it's dumb, because they're not any better than you and me, but that's how it is. I've actually seen many famous people in my day, and I must say this is probably on the top of my list because I'm in love with some of these guys. This goes on my list of greatest moments in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So without further adieu, I present to you the cast of SNL. (I actually didn't get all of the cast because they all didn't come out or some were not around long enough for pictures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ5_mDjWDsI/AAAAAAAAASw/pviOMQsE610/s1600-h/nyc+042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ5_mDjWDsI/AAAAAAAAASw/pviOMQsE610/s400/nyc+042.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264285306207997634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lorne Michael's-Producer of SNL (He's the old guy in the middle, about to get in the car.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ58dVwQ5uI/AAAAAAAAASY/CN91LOUkdxY/s1600-h/nyc+040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ58dVwQ5uI/AAAAAAAAASY/CN91LOUkdxY/s400/nyc+040.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264281857940317922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ58ddPAskI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-kPhBdG34-M/s1600-h/nyc+018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ58ddPAskI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-kPhBdG34-M/s400/nyc+018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264281859948327490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casey Wilson Moynihan(Casey is the one with the big bag.) and Bobby. They are both new this season. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ59ceSt_sI/AAAAAAAAASg/Mkwv8Qd9LzY/s1600-h/nyc+037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ59ceSt_sI/AAAAAAAAASg/Mkwv8Qd9LzY/s400/nyc+037.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264282942564073154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will Forte (No I don't know the girl in this picture, but I'm over it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ5-J1FtuyI/AAAAAAAAASo/X2MIzZ0VBtI/s1600-h/nyc+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ5-J1FtuyI/AAAAAAAAASo/X2MIzZ0VBtI/s400/nyc+022.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264283721777658658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason Sudeikis (He's married, but I think he's adorable in glasses. I'm a sucker for mean in glasses. The picture doesn't do him justice)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ6BSbmud4I/AAAAAAAAAS4/RY-YtZ58O8o/s1600-h/nyc+028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ6BSbmud4I/AAAAAAAAAS4/RY-YtZ58O8o/s400/nyc+028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264287168090503042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill Hader&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also saw Kristen Wiig, and Fred Armisen, but didn't get picture. I also saw David Cook. He had a little entourage with him. I got a few pictures but decided not to post them. His entourage annoyed me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the greatest sighting of them all...be still my soul, my heart may need a defibrillator just thinking about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ6DA0w8M4I/AAAAAAAAATA/GA_9e8x7mdo/s1600-h/nyc+032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ6DA0w8M4I/AAAAAAAAATA/GA_9e8x7mdo/s400/nyc+032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264289064629842818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANDY SAMBERG!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said before, one of the greatest moments of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7089418785010304122?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7089418785010304122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7089418785010304122&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7089418785010304122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7089418785010304122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/11/live-from-new-york.html' title='Live From New York...'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/SQ5_mDjWDsI/AAAAAAAAASw/pviOMQsE610/s72-c/nyc+042.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-5830665120987951739</id><published>2008-10-30T22:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T22:31:04.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No This Is Not A Red States Verses Blue States.</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://chart.apis.google.com/chart?cht=t&amp;chs=440x220&amp;chtm=usa&amp;chf=bg,s,336699&amp;chco=cc0000&amp;chd=s:99999999999999999999999999999999999&amp;chld=CAFLILKYMAMONHNCSDVTWICOGAINMTNJPAVAWYAZCTIAMNNEOHTXDEIDKSMDNVNYSCUTWV" width="440" height="220" &gt;&lt;br/&gt;visited 35 states (70%)&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://douweosinga.com/projects/visited?region=usa"&gt;Create your own visited map of The United States&lt;/a&gt; or determine the &lt;a href="http://douweosinga.com/projects/thenextpresident"&gt;next president&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was going to write more in this post, but I'm too tired.  It was going to be about how I thought I only had one more state on the East Coast to make it to, but apparenlty our smallest state eludes me.  Blast!  I will explain another day how I was able to knock out a few states recently.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-5830665120987951739?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/5830665120987951739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=5830665120987951739&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5830665120987951739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5830665120987951739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/10/no-this-is-not-red-states-verses-blue.html' title='No This Is Not A Red States Verses Blue States.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-6273621142115781738</id><published>2008-10-22T15:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T15:02:56.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Something That Made Me Laugh</title><content type='html'>So my boss had some people over for wine last night.  The 9-year boy that I nanny was excited to play waiter.  So he asked for help opening the bottle of wine.  This is how it went down.(Note: I don't remember the exact quotes.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Will you help me open this? &lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes&lt;br /&gt;Boy:(As he gets the cork screw) How do I do this again; I forgot? &lt;br /&gt;Me: I don't know;I've never open a bottle of wine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6273621142115781738?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6273621142115781738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6273621142115781738&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6273621142115781738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6273621142115781738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/10/something-that-made-me-laugh.html' title='Something That Made Me Laugh'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-4563127645813947584</id><published>2008-10-04T21:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T22:14:58.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Times They Are Changing</title><content type='html'>So this week was a big week for me.  It was a week of changes.  I ended a job that was my longest worked job out of college, I said goodbye to the house that my family lived in for 15 years (they've been moved into their new house for a while, but we were finishing up cleaning and painting), and got ready to move to NYC.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these changes are good changes, and time for all of them.  However, it's interesting how hard change can be.  The one I find most interesting is how bittersweet it was to leave work.  Yes, I'm so happy to be done, but there really were parts I enjoyed. It's what I've known for the last year and a half.  It's been my life.  Wednesday was a day of mixed emotions, and yes some tears were shed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I sit typing this in NYC.  I arrived safely and my bags are unpacked.  I'm excited for the times ahead and to see what life will bring next.  I will keep you posted on my happenings.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm debating on whether or not to change the title of my blog.  It's not so much mixed up files now that I'm not working in an office.  I am open to suggestions for new titles.  Does anyone have any thoughts?  (No I will not rename it the Nanny Diaries)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-4563127645813947584?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/4563127645813947584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=4563127645813947584&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4563127645813947584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4563127645813947584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/10/times-they-are-changing.html' title='The Times They Are Changing'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-6370504927565481926</id><published>2008-09-28T23:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T23:35:41.050-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Birds And The Bees</title><content type='html'>So I realized the other day that I don't presently have a crush. It's been a long time since I haven't had a crush on at least one person. I'm not here tonight to go into all of those details. If you've been around me in the past few years, you know the story. If not, you may just be out of luck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm not out searching for a crush. I like this time to be be free, but I did decide that I have some celebrity crushes. There are three that I'm currently into. I find them all strange because I don't really find them attractive, but at the same time, I really do. I'm drawn to all three for different reasons, and I'm very intrigued by them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I present to you my celebrity crushes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SOBacwbzi0I/AAAAAAAAAR4/56z0TyfFZ08/s1600-h/Robert.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SOBacwbzi0I/AAAAAAAAAR4/56z0TyfFZ08/s400/Robert.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251296615598361410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SOBadQGeeOI/AAAAAAAAASA/V-fNYb3SAWU/s1600-h/Zack.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SOBadQGeeOI/AAAAAAAAASA/V-fNYb3SAWU/s400/Zack.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251296624098834658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SOBadTa6z2I/AAAAAAAAASI/28odQRuUEwg/s1600-h/shia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SOBadTa6z2I/AAAAAAAAASI/28odQRuUEwg/s400/shia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251296624989884258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to write a list of things I liked about them and also why I find it odd that I like them, but I'm too tired now so I'm going to leave that up to your imagination.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6370504927565481926?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6370504927565481926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6370504927565481926&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6370504927565481926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6370504927565481926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/09/birds-and-bees.html' title='The Birds And The Bees'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/SOBacwbzi0I/AAAAAAAAAR4/56z0TyfFZ08/s72-c/Robert.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-2447069602856684966</id><published>2008-09-17T23:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T23:27:32.268-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There Comes A Time When Every Dedicated Blogger Reaches This Point</title><content type='html'>So I finally reached my 100th post. Okay, that's not true. This is really 105, and if we want to get technical, there were others. Some of them got deleted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, leading up to the big 100, I thought of what I could write. I had many ideas. However, 100 came and went. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I want to pay homage to my 105th post because it contains some good stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you haven't noticed, I don't really like my job. In fact anyone that I've been in close contact with since graduating from college knows I've struggled with the working word. From what I hear and see, it's normal for people my age. We just don't commit to things, and we don't' really know what we want in life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to college, and then when I graduated, I took the next step in life, joined the working world. That's what you're supposed to do. I've had a hard time with this. It's expected that you get a "good" job, and work on your career. What if I didn't go to college for the money? Maybe I went to just learn. I've been a firm believer in following after what you want to do. So what if you went to college, and your dream is to be a cashier at Hallmark. Just do what you love to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My problem has been figuring out what I want to do. I realized that my dreams were not necessarily career related. I do have some career goals, but they are not for right now and require more school. Many of my goals are not job related at all. However, the past three years, I've stuck with what's expected of me. It's all about the "career move". Well I've decided to forget about that aspect at this point in life. Life is not all about career. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in two weeks, I'm making a huge change to follow a dream. I've dreamed of living in NYC for the past few years, and it's about to become a reality. I'm packing up the diploma for an umbrella and a large bag. (That's a Mary Poppins reference.) I'm going to be a nanny on the Upper East Side! I'm totally stoked, free housing, good pay, a chance to live my dream!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2447069602856684966?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2447069602856684966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2447069602856684966&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2447069602856684966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2447069602856684966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/09/there-comes-time-when-every-dedicated.html' title='There Comes A Time When Every Dedicated Blogger Reaches This Point'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-2972898188323068428</id><published>2008-09-16T12:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T12:19:58.045-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Policy Is To Always Get People Do Things For You So You Don't Have To Do Them Yourself:</title><content type='html'>So sometimes I don't write posts because it can be time consuming. Well today, my problem was solved, and I don't have to write the &lt;a href="http://carpediem16.blogspot.com/2008/09/desparate-swm.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; I thought about writing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2972898188323068428?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2972898188323068428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2972898188323068428&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2972898188323068428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2972898188323068428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-policy-is-to-always-get-people-do.html' title='My Policy Is To Always Get People Do Things For You So You Don&apos;t Have To Do Them Yourself:'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-7694542726040042459</id><published>2008-09-15T15:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T16:02:04.600-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Grammatical Error Still Kind of Fits</title><content type='html'>So my friend pointed out to me that my title in the last post should probably read Going to the Chapel.  At first, I was a little embarrassed by my error.  After thinking about error, it kind of works.  Gongs kind of give an Asian vibe, and Cambodians are Asian, and I went to an Cambodian reception, hence "Gong To The Chapel."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7694542726040042459?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7694542726040042459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7694542726040042459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7694542726040042459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7694542726040042459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-grammatical-error-still-kind-of-fits.html' title='My Grammatical Error Still Kind of Fits'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-7581119719390164868</id><published>2008-09-14T20:58:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T21:29:15.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gong To The Chapel</title><content type='html'>No this post has nothing to do with my nuptials. I just thought I would post a few pictures from a wedding I was a bridesmaid in this weekend. My friend Kami got married on Friday. I was able to attend the wedding on Friday, and she had a reception on Saturday. Her husband Hank is Cambodian so we ended up wearing two different outfits. I can say that I didn't really like either one because they weren't too flattering so I'll just post a few so you can get the idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3Cwl7TaHI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Z4PB8DpAesM/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3Cwl7TaHI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Z4PB8DpAesM/s400/Muchos+Photos+049.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246063281026852978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the only one where I don't look like a pink pumpkin. The girl that took this didn't get it in time to see my airtime. However, I saw the one the real photographer took, and it looked pretty sweet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of the others at the Temple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3ENTvXTTI/AAAAAAAAANE/hJub0VeBlZo/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3ENTvXTTI/AAAAAAAAANE/hJub0VeBlZo/s400/Muchos+Photos+045.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246064873872772402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty much holding most of Hank's weight here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3D0La4brI/AAAAAAAAAM8/ShpNJPH5coU/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3D0La4brI/AAAAAAAAAM8/ShpNJPH5coU/s400/Muchos+Photos+025.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246064442142650034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cute couple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3DntQWqsI/AAAAAAAAAM0/Z6I21dhitdw/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3DntQWqsI/AAAAAAAAAM0/Z6I21dhitdw/s400/Muchos+Photos+014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246064227887000258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dapper Men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the Cambodian Reception: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3IOwvqW6I/AAAAAAAAAOE/bWJlJvX3ZLE/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3IOwvqW6I/AAAAAAAAAOE/bWJlJvX3ZLE/s400/Muchos+Photos+079.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246069296885029794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had to wear nude shirts because the outfits weren't very modest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3FtNXCCOI/AAAAAAAAANs/URNjwSfTj3E/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+095.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3FtNXCCOI/AAAAAAAAANs/URNjwSfTj3E/s400/Muchos+Photos+095.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246066521427544290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3FnnKSQzI/AAAAAAAAANk/UMkKGY5qBdQ/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3FnnKSQzI/AAAAAAAAANk/UMkKGY5qBdQ/s400/Muchos+Photos+097.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246066425274188594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3FTL8j_hI/AAAAAAAAANc/ORS1Z3SQzZY/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3FTL8j_hI/AAAAAAAAANc/ORS1Z3SQzZY/s400/Muchos+Photos+114.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246066074371489298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3E_Avk47I/AAAAAAAAANU/gji-yvAJ1jg/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3E_Avk47I/AAAAAAAAANU/gji-yvAJ1jg/s400/Muchos+Photos+082.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246065727766848434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3GAmdzaWI/AAAAAAAAAN0/XjrBR7jV0SM/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3GAmdzaWI/AAAAAAAAAN0/XjrBR7jV0SM/s400/Muchos+Photos+127.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246066854584346978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3GFbd4ehI/AAAAAAAAAN8/0rjNWTTFAmQ/s1600-h/Muchos+Photos+128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3GFbd4ehI/AAAAAAAAAN8/0rjNWTTFAmQ/s400/Muchos+Photos+128.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246066937531234834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the Cambodian Band that sang Cambodian songs all night except when they did a cover of Mariah Carey's &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DboyS-OiDK4"&gt;I Can't Live&lt;/a&gt;,, House of the Rising Sun in Cambodian, and The Farmer in the Dell as they cut the wedding cake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a interesting night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7581119719390164868?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7581119719390164868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7581119719390164868&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7581119719390164868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7581119719390164868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/09/gong-to-chapel.html' title='Gong To The Chapel'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/SM3Cwl7TaHI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Z4PB8DpAesM/s72-c/Muchos+Photos+049.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-9053880845777250693</id><published>2008-09-09T09:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T09:31:52.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Almost Here!</title><content type='html'>My friends, Fall is almost here. I can feel it just around the corner. One probably couldn't guess it by the warm weather, but there have been two signs recently...OK maybe three, but the other one isn't as exciting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Halloween Candy is in the stores. So this has been there since like the beginning of August. It doesn't make me excited, but it is a sign. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I was in a craft store the other week and they had Fall decorations and crafts. I love just walking through the aisles and looking at all the stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. There's a story that accompanies the 3rd reason so let me set it up for you. So there is an Italian Ice/Custard place near my parents. My mom signed my brother and me up for the mailing list . It was a joke at first, but I actually look forward to their daily email. I've only been there twice, but with the email it makes me always want to go. It shows the flavors of the day and the special flavor of the season. They will have one flavor for a period of time that goes with the time of year. They recently ended cotton candy (still sad that I missed it.) Last week their Fall flavor came out, Pumpkin Pie Ice Cream! I love all things pumpkin pie so I'm stoked to try it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there it is, Fall is upon us. It's my favorite season for many reasons, and I'm excited for the weather to cool down so I can welcome it in full.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-9053880845777250693?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/9053880845777250693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=9053880845777250693&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/9053880845777250693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/9053880845777250693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-almost-here.html' title='It&apos;s Almost Here!'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-8179233902760000711</id><published>2008-09-04T09:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T09:49:47.551-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sales Pitch</title><content type='html'>*Just another reason why I hate my job. I hope it doesn't get too old especially for my good roommate that listens to all my venting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one of my many duties at work is to make sales calls. I hate it because I'm a terrible sales person, but I do it because I have no choice. Often times we follow-up our sales calls with an email or letter and brochure in the mail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well last week I spoke to a lady over the phone, and she asked me to mail her some information about our company. I was getting everything together with the brochure and typed up a fantastic letter. I told my boss the lady wanted me to send some stuff, and she told me to put a letter in. That was the first thing that annoyed me. Yes, I've been here a year and a half; I know how to send out mailers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stamped the envelope and put it out for the mail. A little bit later, my boss waltzed into my office and gave me a letter she typed up to mail out. Without her noticing, I took the envelope with my letter and replaced it with her letter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laugh now, but at the time I was ticked off. I'm not sure my boss realizes I'm capable of writing a business letter. I wrote a ton in college, and I've been doing it here for a while! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd, I think you right. It's time for some managerial classes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I saved my letter in my purse so I could admire my craftsmanship. My letter was so much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8179233902760000711?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8179233902760000711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8179233902760000711&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8179233902760000711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8179233902760000711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/09/sales-pitch.html' title='The Sales Pitch'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-4982440814156232757</id><published>2008-09-03T22:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T22:44:19.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Tell You When You're Older</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SL9ZgCrE8AI/AAAAAAAAAMc/djwQZftt9tg/s1600-h/sperm.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SL9ZgCrE8AI/AAAAAAAAAMc/djwQZftt9tg/s400/sperm.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242006898290782210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I forget that my little brother is younger and therefore is still very innocent. Because of this, he often hears things he shouldn't. Let me give you a few examples of things that happened just this weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was riding in the car with my family, and I was telling my parents about the cartoon a friend told me about. Basically it was of little sperm swimming to an egg, and the Michael Phelps one was much faster. My brother asked us what sperm was. Of course we all felt a little awkward, and we snickered under our breath. My other brother, in the car, saved the day and mentioned something about sperm whales. We were able avoid that talk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, I was watching an episode of Scrubs this weekend. At the end of the episode, my brother asked me what Booty Call was. I don't remember what I said, but I think I just changed topics. Apparently he asked my mom again, tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should be a better big sister.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-4982440814156232757?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/4982440814156232757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=4982440814156232757&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4982440814156232757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4982440814156232757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/09/ill-tell-you-when-youre-older.html' title='I&apos;ll Tell You When You&apos;re Older'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/SL9ZgCrE8AI/AAAAAAAAAMc/djwQZftt9tg/s72-c/sperm.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-6709153210121642389</id><published>2008-08-29T10:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T11:15:03.028-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All This Convention Talk Has Made Me Nostalgic</title><content type='html'>First, I have to say that when I first started this post, I couldn't get it to write in English. Then I remembered that I enabled the language translator today, and I was writing in Hindi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back our regularly scheduled post. So with the Democratic National Convention ending and the Republican one ending, I am suddenly taken back to a time when I was nine years old. This memory came to me the other day. It was while I was in the fourth grade. I was attending school in Aurora, Colorado. Third grade and two months of fourth grade was the only time that I did not attend my public school education in the Commonwealth of Virginia. The more I think about it, my school in Colorado was probably the best I ever attended. I will save that for another post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two months was did go to school there were during a presidential election. The school decided that they were going to teach us about the election process. To do this, they came up with two characters to run. (I don't remember if they were running to be president of the school or a new mascot.) The candidates were Sonic the Hedgehog and Bugs Bunny. All of the classes were assigned a state. I remember that my class and another fourth grade class were the state of Hawaii. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Individually, you got to choose who you were supporting. I chose to support Bugs Bunny. Each candidate held a convention. The two classes made signs for their state and candidate so the two classes divided based on each individual's candidate of choice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it came to convention time, I was selected to represent the great state of Hawaii. I stood at the podium and announced how many delegates were there for support of our candidate. It is one of my crowning moments. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, I left before the election was completed, and I never found out who won. I think they should have used that as an opportunity to teach us about absentee voting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6709153210121642389?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6709153210121642389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6709153210121642389&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6709153210121642389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6709153210121642389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/08/all-this-convention-talk-has-made-me.html' title='All This Convention Talk Has Made Me Nostalgic'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-6054911490106306989</id><published>2008-08-22T12:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T12:17:39.864-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How Could I Have Strayed From the Office Theme?</title><content type='html'>So someone, we'll call her Biggy (to protect her name of course), had a few complaints about the last couple of posts.  Maybe I should come play some Titanic for her at midnight, and Les Mis, and Mary Had a Little Lamb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I must admit that I can't believe I left out a huge detail of my work week.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 18-year old quit on Wednesday.  He just wasn't cut out for the business world.  Now it's back to just me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One is the loneliest number.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6054911490106306989?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6054911490106306989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6054911490106306989&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6054911490106306989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6054911490106306989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-could-i-have-strayed-from-office.html' title='How Could I Have Strayed From the Office Theme?'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-6358233508984507311</id><published>2008-08-21T22:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T22:48:32.769-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just A Thought</title><content type='html'>When you have a visitor over, you don't allow them to play the piano at midnight, even if they are playing music from Titanic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6358233508984507311?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6358233508984507311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6358233508984507311&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6358233508984507311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6358233508984507311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-thought.html' title='Just A Thought'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-6120474642358392234</id><published>2008-08-20T08:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T08:14:00.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Light Bathroom Reading</title><content type='html'>So this is what I read the other day on the stall in a Kohl's bathroom.  This person seems excited about homeschool.  I say person because I haven't ruled out that maybe a boy came in and wrote it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SKwYPIASPYI/AAAAAAAAAMA/V6XctvWtjn0/s1600-h/bathroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SKwYPIASPYI/AAAAAAAAAMA/V6XctvWtjn0/s400/bathroom.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236587114850827650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6120474642358392234?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6120474642358392234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6120474642358392234&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6120474642358392234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6120474642358392234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/08/little-light-bathroom-reading.html' title='A Little Light Bathroom Reading'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/SKwYPIASPYI/AAAAAAAAAMA/V6XctvWtjn0/s72-c/bathroom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-8461089488348582218</id><published>2008-08-19T19:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T19:19:59.915-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When Work With an 18-Year Old, These are the Kind of Emails You Get</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SKtiva7tWcI/AAAAAAAAAL4/qnSYwxAWTcM/s1600-h/CHUBBY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SKtiva7tWcI/AAAAAAAAAL4/qnSYwxAWTcM/s400/CHUBBY.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236387558571465154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't so much concerned with the picture as the I was with the not that came with it.  This is what it said: &lt;em&gt;do u think dis is funni&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could say this post was a joke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8461089488348582218?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8461089488348582218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8461089488348582218&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8461089488348582218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8461089488348582218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/08/when-work-with-18-year-old-these-are.html' title='When Work With an 18-Year Old, These are the Kind of Emails You Get'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/SKtiva7tWcI/AAAAAAAAAL4/qnSYwxAWTcM/s72-c/CHUBBY.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-4783914476684374101</id><published>2008-08-18T08:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T08:31:46.167-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There's Only A Ms. LMC In We.</title><content type='html'>Whenever we have meetings at work, my boss always talks about we need to this or we're going to do that.  I cringe everytime becuase it loosely translates to, me making sure that all gets done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention, I don't like Mondays?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-4783914476684374101?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/4783914476684374101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=4783914476684374101&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4783914476684374101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4783914476684374101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/08/theres-only-ms-lmc-in-we.html' title='There&apos;s Only A Ms. LMC In We.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-545933116061290710</id><published>2008-08-17T21:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T21:13:45.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just A Spoon Full of Sugar Helps the Medicine Go Down</title><content type='html'>Last month I was up in NYC, and some friends and I saw the Mary Poppins the Musical. It was a really good show, and I enjoyed it a lot. So I was listening to the music a few weeks ago, and I realized that Mary Poppins and I are kind of similar. No, I'm not a British Nanny that takes care of misbehaved children. However we do have something in common as far as names go. I noticed that people often refer to her as Mary Poppins. I find this happens with me as well. There are a large number of people that refer by my first and last name.  They do it when greeting me, and then throughout our conversation. It's an interesting phenomenon as most of them have done it independently of each other. I'm not sure why, but it happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-545933116061290710?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/545933116061290710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=545933116061290710&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/545933116061290710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/545933116061290710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/08/just-spoon-full-of-sugar-helps-medicine.html' title='Just A Spoon Full of Sugar Helps the Medicine Go Down'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-4824083147779382214</id><published>2008-08-14T22:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T07:09:02.891-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been A Long Time Since I Blogged About Work</title><content type='html'>So I realized that I used to blog about work a lot, and I haven't lately. A lot of that is do exit of a certain coworker. We'll call her Bibba. To get you up to speed, the business was sold, Bibba left, new bosses came in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now along with that came a whole list of headaches. Here's the equation 2 bosses + 1 employee + plus inexperience of the bosses + 1 employee doing the work of Bibba, employee, and everything else + bosses not listening to the advice of employee that has been doing the job a lot longer = 10x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After solving the equation, we find that x=a living hell at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t mean to sound negative so let’s focus on a good thing that happened last week. I got a coworker! He's very hot, and very charming...he's 18. Either way, it's good to have someone again, and we have an instant bond because we're the worker ants, and worker ants stick together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I'll have as funny of stories as I did with Bibba. They were some of the best. It reminds me of the time she told me when I was married I should go to a strip club just to see what they're all about. One day I will write a book about all of the Bibbaisms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have a few laughs with my 18-year old. He asked me last week why I always work so hard. He told me I should become an actress. He told me I look like a high school principal/teacher. Then the icing on the cake, we had our corporate developer at work today. He came in my office and told me she was hot for a person her age (45 years old). I didn’t quite catch what he said next, but I’m pretty sure he told me I was hot too, but he was amazed because she was older. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s good to have a coworker again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-4824083147779382214?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/4824083147779382214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=4824083147779382214&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4824083147779382214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4824083147779382214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-been-long-time-since-i-blogged.html' title='It&apos;s Been A Long Time Since I Blogged About Work'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-916358768072480602</id><published>2008-08-06T20:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T20:11:13.299-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How Many Five Year Olds Could You Take In A Fight?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.oneplusyou.com/bb/fight5" style="display: block; background: url(http://www.oneplusyou.com/q/img/bb_badges/fight5.jpg) no-repeat; width: 296px; height: 84px; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 42px; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; text-align: center; padding-top: 145px;"&gt;15&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;Created by OnePlusYou - &lt;a href="http://www.oneplusyou.com"&gt;Free Dating Sites&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-916358768072480602?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/916358768072480602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=916358768072480602&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/916358768072480602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/916358768072480602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-many-five-year-olds-could-you-take.html' title='How Many Five Year Olds Could You Take In A Fight?'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-1532579948402235410</id><published>2008-07-24T12:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T12:50:02.502-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No, Thank YOU For Being A Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SIjAtdvPIWI/AAAAAAAAALw/_SkHm3Suufo/s1600-h/golden.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SIjAtdvPIWI/AAAAAAAAALw/_SkHm3Suufo/s400/golden.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226639254872858978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been real Estelle. (http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5iTMkQDONxgujdSXbarMnrHCD_7FwD923371O1)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-1532579948402235410?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/1532579948402235410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=1532579948402235410&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1532579948402235410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1532579948402235410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/07/no-thank-you-for-being-friend.html' title='No, Thank YOU For Being A Friend'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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://bp2.blogger.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SIjAtdvPIWI/AAAAAAAAALw/_SkHm3Suufo/s72-c/golden.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-5188758934569997897</id><published>2008-07-14T21:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T06:59:41.044-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ask And Ye Shall Recieve</title><content type='html'>So I'm not usually one to get all testimony bearing on the blog, or really in person for that matter, mainly due to my difficulty in showing emotion or opening up, but today I will.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll spare you and my little fingers the details, and I will simply say God does answer prayers.  Often times it's in ways you least expect it, but he still answers, and for that, I am grateful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-5188758934569997897?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/5188758934569997897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=5188758934569997897&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5188758934569997897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5188758934569997897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/07/ask-and-ye-shall-recieve.html' title='Ask And Ye Shall Recieve'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-3837062379968848450</id><published>2008-07-08T21:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T22:24:39.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Random Ramblings</title><content type='html'>I don't have just one thing I want to talk about so here are some random things that have happened recently. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Today I interviewed a girl. If I were running an escort service, I probably would have hired her on the spot. Her top looked more like a bustier, and her already short skirt that had slits that went mid-way up her thigh. I was very uncomfortable the whole time. And if that weren't bad enough, she told me that she's had 3 hip surgeries in the past year (she's almost 23.) so the rest of the interview my hip was very uncomfortable thinking about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I have a friend that when we talk or get together, it's not to uncommon for us to argue about something. One of our regulars is who is more of a jerk. I still stand by that my friend is because when this friend says something rude the friend knows it was rude. I on the other hand, say rude things usually because I'm dumb and clueless. For example, I was on the phone with another friend the other day. This is a good friend of mine, this friend's mother died almost 2 years ago. I was telling my friend that my mom would be out of town for 2 weeks so I would be motherless for two weeks. As it came out of my mouth, I realized what an insensitive jerk I was so I quickly moved past that topic to something else. So most of the time, I don't mean to be a jerk. I just don't think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. This morning I got out of bed, and I was dizzy and kept listing to the left. I thought it was just from waking up, but I continued to be dizzy the rest of the day. At one point something was wrong with the left side of my body. I thought I was having a stroke. By the end of the day I was doing better, but I was questioning whether or not I should go to the gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Which brings me to my 4th point (oh, I did end up going to the gym.) So I joined back up with a gym I was a member of a while back. They really wanted me to return so I got a pretty nice deal. Anyway, I have two issues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a. First today, I was on the treadmill. There was a big fan blowing on us, and it made everything feel very nice. Then enters stinky man. He got on the treadmill next to me. Big fan + stinky man = irritated nostrils. I left the treadmill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b. The second point is a serious issue to me. It seems my gym is taking equal employment opportunity literal, and it's upsetting me. No it's not a race, culture, or religious issue. Some of the workers there seem to be rather large. Now, I don't claim to be a size 2, but when I go to the gym, I want to see attractive fit workers. Luckily, I don't think any of them are trainers, but seriously it's very distracting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-3837062379968848450?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/3837062379968848450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=3837062379968848450&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3837062379968848450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3837062379968848450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/07/few-random-ramblings.html' title='A Few Random Ramblings'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-7244926382595273919</id><published>2008-06-29T18:49:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T19:38:46.899-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A three month-tour, a three-month tour...(should be sung to the theme of Gilligan's Island)</title><content type='html'>Well in case there is anyone out there that reads this that I don't speak to at least on a semi-regular basis, I did not die. I know it may seem that way because I have not blogged in almost three months. I'd give you a list of excuses, but instead I'll just fill you in on what I've been up to since then. (This makes me laugh because my roommate and I had a conversation about someone else's blog today and how all of their posts lately refer to stuff that happened a month ago because they are behind as well.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in April I ran a 10K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGglXS2sjvI/AAAAAAAAAKg/k87Lex-IKdE/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGglXS2sjvI/AAAAAAAAAKg/k87Lex-IKdE/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+461.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217461250437189362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any pictures from the event because everyone I went down with was running. Although, if I pay an arm and a leg, I can purchase photos that the sponsors took of us while running the race. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In May, I...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgm__0LH0I/AAAAAAAAAKo/SBQyUeCzSe0/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+545.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgm__0LH0I/AAAAAAAAAKo/SBQyUeCzSe0/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+545.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217463049212600130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;went to a butterfly garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgnAKJb5aI/AAAAAAAAAKw/5JcgyXHFPyE/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+630.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgnAKJb5aI/AAAAAAAAAKw/5JcgyXHFPyE/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+630.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217463051986134434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hung out with some friends downtown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgnAWrLXUI/AAAAAAAAAK4/U6AlZX_Y7Pc/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+643.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgnAWrLXUI/AAAAAAAAAK4/U6AlZX_Y7Pc/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+643.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217463055348882754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgnA4xrbhI/AAAAAAAAALA/5xzpgOf88fw/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+730.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgnA4xrbhI/AAAAAAAAALA/5xzpgOf88fw/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+730.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217463064502955538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;took my younger brother to NYC for the first time, where we saw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgn3pIgOYI/AAAAAAAAALI/mhFgdK96ECE/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+765.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgn3pIgOYI/AAAAAAAAALI/mhFgdK96ECE/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+765.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217464005196528002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will Smith's stand-in while they were filming a scene from the upcoming movie Hancock! (In theaters Wednesday July 2, 2008)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also during the month of May I attended the wedding of a friend from high school in Disney World!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgpd0eLEtI/AAAAAAAAALQ/Fs342gO32ig/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+851.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgpd0eLEtI/AAAAAAAAALQ/Fs342gO32ig/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+851.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217465760586863314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgpeIs6eXI/AAAAAAAAALY/YK3TFuTzQ54/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+905.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgpeIs6eXI/AAAAAAAAALY/YK3TFuTzQ54/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+905.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217465766017399154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgpe8O5qzI/AAAAAAAAALg/4Z8-hjqecBk/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+1109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgpe8O5qzI/AAAAAAAAALg/4Z8-hjqecBk/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+1109.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217465779850160946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgpfPvm33I/AAAAAAAAALo/kWltiV84msc/s1600-h/Laura%27s+Camera+1193.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGgpfPvm33I/AAAAAAAAALo/kWltiV84msc/s400/Laura%27s+Camera+1193.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217465785087614834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the month of June, I moved out of my parent's house, I turned a year older, and I've been to the zoo twice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it. I'm sure I missed a lot, but those were just some of the highlights. I'll try to be more faithful in my blog writing just in case the five people that ever read it to begin with are still interested.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7244926382595273919?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7244926382595273919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7244926382595273919&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7244926382595273919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7244926382595273919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/06/three-month-tour-three-month-tourshould.html' title='A three month-tour, a three-month tour...(should be sung to the theme of Gilligan&apos;s Island)'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/SGglXS2sjvI/AAAAAAAAAKg/k87Lex-IKdE/s72-c/Laura%27s+Camera+461.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-1896770306026458075</id><published>2008-04-02T07:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T07:21:41.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is What Makes My Job Fun</title><content type='html'>Excerpt from a resume: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WAS TAKING CARE OF THE ELDERLY WOMANS LIKE CAPPED PERSONS BY CHANGIN THEIR CLOTHERS, WASHING THEM, IRONING THEIR LAUNDRY, SERVING FOOD, ASSISTING THEM IN AND OUT OF BED...ALMOST ABOUT 1-2 YRS EXPERIENCES WITHOUT PAY...JUST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HELPING OUT, I WILL ANYTHING TO HELP OLDER WOMANS&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-1896770306026458075?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/1896770306026458075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=1896770306026458075&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1896770306026458075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1896770306026458075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/04/this-is-what-makes-my-job-fun.html' title='This Is What Makes My Job Fun'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-979450404924144363</id><published>2008-03-30T17:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T18:09:29.985-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Outbreak</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R_AdkHScKgI/AAAAAAAAAKY/5vgpbYYr9ms/s1600-h/outbreak.jpg."&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R_AdkHScKgI/AAAAAAAAAKY/5vgpbYYr9ms/s400/outbreak.jpg." border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183675677372328450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday I went to get blood work* done.  I was riding the elevator with some lady, down the laboratory.  I wanted to turn to her and say, "I’m here for an HIV test.  What are you here for?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I thought I should have come up with some sort of airborne illness that would really freak you out if you were sharing an elevator with that person.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I was just getting basic blood work done because I had a physical the week before.  My lipid panel came back, and you'll be happy to know my cholesterol is fine.  I'm still waiting for the other test.  This will confirm whether or not my hypochondriacness, over the years, will finally get the justice it deserves...though I don't want something to really be wrong with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-979450404924144363?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/979450404924144363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=979450404924144363&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/979450404924144363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/979450404924144363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/03/outbreak.html' title='Outbreak'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/R_AdkHScKgI/AAAAAAAAAKY/5vgpbYYr9ms/s72-c/outbreak.jpg.' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-3817427976153992961</id><published>2008-03-27T08:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T08:36:00.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Phototastic!</title><content type='html'>I really enjoy having my picture taken.  I think it's funny that in any two photos we can look so different.  I'll admit, I've had my fair share of bad pictures, but when a I have a shot that I think is good, I can't help but look at it.  Maybe I have an obsession with myself or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I presently have a photo of myself, on my computer at work.  Every once in a while I like to pull it up and admire myself.  I can't help that I was born so dang good looking.  It's a gift! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R-uh9HScKfI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/kiuGLH63krE/s1600-h/camel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R-uh9HScKfI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/kiuGLH63krE/s400/camel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182413867520371186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will have to find more and post for you, just in case this photo, alone, does not convince you what a hottie I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-3817427976153992961?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/3817427976153992961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=3817427976153992961&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3817427976153992961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3817427976153992961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/03/phototastic.html' title='Phototastic!'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/R-uh9HScKfI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/kiuGLH63krE/s72-c/camel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-7516854964613626575</id><published>2008-03-24T08:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T08:33:20.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Changing</title><content type='html'>An event occurred this morning that has profoundly changed my life, for good.  I will never be the same, and I must say this is a good thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7516854964613626575?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7516854964613626575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7516854964613626575&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7516854964613626575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7516854964613626575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/03/life-changing.html' title='Life Changing'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-6035528608961354258</id><published>2008-03-17T13:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T13:36:32.628-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Troops Are Going To Run Me Dry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R965jV9H0lI/AAAAAAAAAKI/pTIG8c3GkHQ/s1600-h/girl-scout-cookie-season-1-19-07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R965jV9H0lI/AAAAAAAAAKI/pTIG8c3GkHQ/s400/girl-scout-cookie-season-1-19-07.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178780638362718802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, not our miltary troops.  The troops of Girl Scouts standing out in front of the stores every weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst part, is I'm not actually buying for the cookies for the cookies.  Don't get me wrong, I love Girl Scout cookies, but I'm not really feeling them this year.  I've maybe had 5 cookies total from the boxes I've bought.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me set the situation up for you.  Last weekend, I got to the store and noticed that some of the members of this Girl Scout Troop were not your typical looking Girl Scouts.  I felt as if I had to buy so I could support them.  Then this weekend, it was a group of &lt;a href="http://www.girlscouts.org/program/gs_central/what_is_gs/brownie.asp"&gt;Brownies&lt;/a&gt;.  How could I resist?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My solution:  I need to stop going to the store.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6035528608961354258?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6035528608961354258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6035528608961354258&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6035528608961354258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6035528608961354258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/03/troops-are-going-to-run-me-dry.html' title='The Troops Are Going To Run Me Dry'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/R965jV9H0lI/AAAAAAAAAKI/pTIG8c3GkHQ/s72-c/girl-scout-cookie-season-1-19-07.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-7189659089181065323</id><published>2008-03-06T15:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T15:50:40.677-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Recent Highlights In My Life</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago I learned to crochet and made a scarf for one of my scarf lovin' friends. I've always wanted to learn to crochet but never did. I guess it was my "I told you I could do it, so there" attitude that made me get it done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And more recently, I ran 6 miles! I am running a 10K at the beginning of April. Seeing as this is the most I've ever fun in my life, I'm pretty stoked about this and a lot more confident that I can do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7189659089181065323?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7189659089181065323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7189659089181065323&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7189659089181065323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7189659089181065323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/03/recent-highlights-in-my-life.html' title='Recent Highlights In My Life'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-5198243031028506838</id><published>2008-02-05T20:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T20:28:51.191-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommy WOW, I'm A Big Kid Now</title><content type='html'>So today marks the one year anniversary at my first big kid's job.  It's kind of surreal.  It's gone really fast, but I've really learned a lot.  I'm really glad that I like my job.  I still don't have it all down, but I'm learning more everyday.  I will say it never fails to entertain me or bring something new.  It keeps me on my toes.  I can't say that I will be there a year from now, but I'm definitely here for the time being.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I often write stories about work, so I'm going to keep with the tradition here.  I spend a lot of time on the phone; usually speaking to people I don't know.  I was conducting a phone interview with a woman on the phone, today.  She had to step away to get a pen, and while I was waiting, I heard a noise that sounded like a gun shot.  I really thought it was so just in case I checked the time on my phone.  I did this in case someone was really shot, and I was a witness.  Well not so much a witness, but a....well I don't really know the word, but I hope you know what I'm saying.  The point is, I would not have been very surprised if this happened.  Everyday is a new story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-5198243031028506838?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/5198243031028506838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=5198243031028506838&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5198243031028506838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5198243031028506838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/02/mommy-wow-im-big-kid-now.html' title='Mommy WOW, I&apos;m A Big Kid Now'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-9203344281436670267</id><published>2008-02-01T09:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T09:32:08.084-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Easily Entertained</title><content type='html'>Last night I went into Subway.  I ordered a sandwich and was on my way.  As I walked out, I nodded my head at a guy.  I was able to see his reflection on the door as I walked away.  He totally turned around to check me out.  It made me chuckle.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Please note that I tried to put a picture here, but Blogger would not let me get into the function.  Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-9203344281436670267?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/9203344281436670267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=9203344281436670267&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/9203344281436670267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/9203344281436670267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/02/easily-entertained.html' title='Easily Entertained'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-3956243292762028727</id><published>2008-01-31T12:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T12:38:15.781-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Joy</title><content type='html'>So I haven't written in a while, and I was told recently that I never put pictures up.  This is true, and I fully intend to add some more, but at this time I don't have what I need.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have been feeling extra happy lately.  Not that I was feeling blue before, but I noticed, yesterday, that I've been happier.  There's no particular event to this happiness, but I'm grateful that I noticed and even more grateful to be extra happy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I thought I would share in some of my joy.  Earlier this week, I could not find my staple remover.  I never realized how much I depend on this little item.  What I found most amusing was that no other staple remover would do.  My coworker offered me an extra one, but I wanted mine.  It's no better than any other, but apparently I've become attached.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I finally found it.  It was hiding behind my phone.  I feel much better, and I'm happy to report that my staple remover feels much better to.  Please see below: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R6IHcwuQX7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/sa3JiT6IRQE/s1600-h/noname.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R6IHcwuQX7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/sa3JiT6IRQE/s400/noname.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161696313616654258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-3956243292762028727?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/3956243292762028727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=3956243292762028727&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3956243292762028727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3956243292762028727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-joy.html' title='My Joy'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/R6IHcwuQX7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/sa3JiT6IRQE/s72-c/noname.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-214018049213215520</id><published>2008-01-08T15:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T15:53:33.739-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"One Of Those Days"</title><content type='html'>So as usual, my post is about work, but it's not necessarily the main topic, and for once it's not about the crazy antics that go on here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During December, it was relatively quiet and at some points quite peaceful. Well the last couple of days have been crazy! And to top it off, yesterday I don't think I was quite all here, mentally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This being said, I noticed that I said a couple of times yesterday to people, "It's been one of those days". One was to a client of mine, and the other two times (that I can remember) it was to friends telling them that I wasn't going to be able to come to a birthday party, and this is after leaving work an hour and twenty minutes late. So my reason for not coming to the party, and or getting back to the client earlier was, "It's been one of those days."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started thinking about this statement. I'm very intrigued by it. What does it mean anyway? It's not like when anyone says it, there is a definite meaning to the day. Each person has their own definition of what "one of those days" is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided that I like it as an excuse. People seem to accept it. And it might be very valid, but even if it isn't valid, it will be accepted because people will imagine in their head what that day is.  (Though I will say, yesterday really was "one of those days".  I was just not feeling it, and work didn't want to leave me alone.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll have to excuse me though, I've got to finish this post quickly, it's been one of those days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-214018049213215520?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/214018049213215520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=214018049213215520&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/214018049213215520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/214018049213215520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/01/one-of-those-days.html' title='&quot;One Of Those Days&quot;'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-7125460048549998907</id><published>2008-01-04T10:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T11:02:43.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Position I Don't Want To Be In</title><content type='html'>So my coworker told me last week that her husband is having her drive her brother-in-law's car because some sort of rod is missing. Apparently it helps keep her tire up because she showed me that the tire kind of bends in at a 34.6% angle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so she doesn't like her brother-in-law's car because it doesn't have heat. This is understandable, but I think I would take that over the death trap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I don't know if I should say imagine my surprise or not because I've learned not be too surprised with her games, but she called the other morning driving in her death trap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was telling me that her car was doing some sort of shaking, and she was going to pull over on the highway for a bit and turn it off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her purpose was two-fold. First, she was going to be a little late for work. Second, if something were to happen to her, she wanted me to tell her daughter (who is 6 months old and wouldn't understand anyone), her husband, dad, sisters, brother etc. that she loves them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay I don't want to be in this situation. I really don't know most of them. And honestly, what would I say? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the right choice is to either suck it up, yes I know it's cold, or invest in a heater. You can get a little one to go in the car. I've seen others. I'd rather that then the deathtrap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7125460048549998907?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7125460048549998907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7125460048549998907&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7125460048549998907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7125460048549998907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2008/01/position-i-dont-want-to-be-in.html' title='A Position I Don&apos;t Want To Be In'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-5832805150652309675</id><published>2007-12-27T09:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T09:14:46.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sad, Sad Reality</title><content type='html'>I recently realized I am addicted to Diet Dr. Pepper...not good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-5832805150652309675?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/5832805150652309675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=5832805150652309675&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5832805150652309675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5832805150652309675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/12/sad-sad-reality.html' title='A Sad, Sad Reality'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-5767568146229391921</id><published>2007-12-11T10:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T09:30:38.147-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged</title><content type='html'>So it's taken me a little while, but here are seven things you may or may not want to know about me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. In college I played three different intramural sports. I played softball, flag football, and basketball. Fact about each: &lt;br /&gt;Softball-My team never scored a run the whole season, though the following year the team one the championship. I think I was bad luck&lt;br /&gt;Basketball-We were pretty much Team Awesome and least two of the seasons and made it to the championship. We didn't win, but that's okay&lt;br /&gt;Flag Football-I was going for a flag, and flew in the air to get it. I got the flag, but when I got up, I looked down at my finger that felt like it was jammed, and it was turned the wrong way. I included a photo of what it looked like. (Notice this guys appears to have 10 broken fingers. I only had one, but I kid you not, the index finger on his left hand, looked just like my left ring finger.) And after the doctor popped that bad boy back into place, I still played the rest of the &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R2fR9ZesPsI/AAAAAAAAAI8/WAXCI2dtZgc/s1600-h/10-broken-fingers-playing-wicket.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R2fR9ZesPsI/AAAAAAAAAI8/WAXCI2dtZgc/s400/10-broken-fingers-playing-wicket.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145311952035921602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;season. That's dedication. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I'm a strangely built person. And by this I mean, my appendages do not match with my body. I have small hand, and abnormally small feet. My toes and fingers are stubs, in fact on my little toys, there is very little toe nail there. When I'm measured from finger tip to finger tip (supposedly this is how tall you are, I should only come in at 5'3", which is not the case.) But wait...the freakishness not stop there. I was a good 3 inches taller than one of my roommates in college, but whenever we'd measure our torsos and legs to find out where the height came from, we were always perplexed. I have a short torso, and short legs. Then one day we figured it it. I have a long butt! Yes it's true. We're not talking width, we're talking length. This thought was confirmed when my uncle told my aunt that she had a long butt because she was American Indian, and they have long butts. So there you have it, I have an Indian butt! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I have a dream to learn to write music and one day right the scores to movies. Nothing makes me happier than listening to a good movie score, and when I'm done John Williams will have nothing on me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. One of my fears is riding in cars. Clearly I do it because of necessity, but I really get nervous. I feel a little better when I'm driving because I feel in control, but sometimes riding with others scares the dickens out of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. One of my obsessions is with the African American culture. (Is this what they call it these days? I can't keep up with the political correctness of our time.) Anyway, I LOVE black people. (No I'm not a racist as some have labeled me.) I'm fascinated by them. I am fascinated by their culture and what it would be like to be black. If I had the guts I'd live in the ghetto for a few months and write a paper like that. I'm not sure why I'm so obsessed. I think it's mainly because here are a group of people that are American, just like me, yet we're so different, at least culturally, and I don't know that I could ever complete understand it, and so it fascinates me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. At one point in my life, I wanted to be the President of NBC. I'm not sure why, but I remember that's what I really wanted to do. I also wanted to learn to be a DJ and be the one that does all the mixing in the club. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. This one's kind of strange, but so am I so whatever. So in college I thought it would be the coolest thing to have a pair of slippers that looked like the Sydney Opera house, and I really wanted a pair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R2fXjZesPtI/AAAAAAAAAJE/i1BV5nYuqyA/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R2fXjZesPtI/AAAAAAAAAJE/i1BV5nYuqyA/s400/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145318102429089490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it. That's me in a nutshell. And no I'm not going to tag anyone because of all the blogs I read; all of those people have been tagged, so the Buck Stops Here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-5767568146229391921?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/5767568146229391921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=5767568146229391921&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5767568146229391921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5767568146229391921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/12/tagged.html' title='Tagged'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/R2fR9ZesPsI/AAAAAAAAAI8/WAXCI2dtZgc/s72-c/10-broken-fingers-playing-wicket.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-4716131611375920233</id><published>2007-12-11T09:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T10:01:06.057-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And So It Continues</title><content type='html'>Conversation at work today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coworker: You know what my New Year's Resolution is going to be? &lt;br /&gt;LC: What&lt;br /&gt;Coworker: I'm going to pray that a guy will come into your life&lt;br /&gt;LC:.....laughter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True Story&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-4716131611375920233?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/4716131611375920233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=4716131611375920233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4716131611375920233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4716131611375920233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-so-it-continues.html' title='And So It Continues'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-3668887491954214199</id><published>2007-11-30T14:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T14:53:27.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Shower Post</title><content type='html'>So last night I was thinking of how proud I was about my post yesterday, and then the thought occurred to me, "What if people think you don't have a shower?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of this because I mentioned showering at Iggy's house. Well I do have a shower at my house, with warm running water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shower in question was due to an unforeseen incident that could have been prevented by better planning and following my end of the bargain in prayer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-3668887491954214199?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/3668887491954214199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=3668887491954214199&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3668887491954214199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3668887491954214199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/11/shower-post.html' title='The Shower Post'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-6250469152454925904</id><published>2007-11-29T15:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T15:45:57.587-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dale and Anna</title><content type='html'>This is what I've titled my day and evening yesterday. It brings many fond memories. This post will shift gears a bit half way through, so hang on tight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, yesterday it was just my boss and me at work. She was talking about taking the office out for dinner for Christmas. She basically told me it was up to me whether we would go during the day for a nice lunch or go at dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is this my choice? Being the only single person in the office, if we go to lunch, it will be me and the girls. If we go to dinner, it will be, me, the girls, and their husbands. Usually I don't mind being single, but for some reason, I feel like an outcast at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is how our last conversation at dinner went. (At least there weren't husbands there this time)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boss: So LC are you dating anyone. &lt;br /&gt;LC: No&lt;br /&gt;Boss: Any potentials&lt;br /&gt;LC: No&lt;br /&gt;Boss: Where do you go to meet people? &lt;br /&gt;LC: You know, here and there&lt;br /&gt;...... a little later after dinner, walking on the streets of Philly. &lt;br /&gt;Boss: Mitt Romney converted his wife. Maybe you need to find someone and convert them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geez! I get more pressure from my nonmember work people, then my member people. And if any of you reading don't understand what I mean by that. I'm a member of the &lt;a href="http://mormon.org/mormonorg/eng/"&gt;Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints&lt;/a&gt;. We feel very strongly about marriage, and often times in our culture, young single adults talk a lot about marriage. Well for me, it's just the opposite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now going into second gear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hanging out with my friend Iggy last night. First I'm grateful because she let me use her shower. I don't normally ask people to use their showers, this was a special case. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After showering we headed out for some grub. After picking out a pinata for Axel,we head to the Library of Congress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might ask what we were going there for. This quite frankly is none of your business. We had things to do you know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we get there, and find out the doors are locked. It seemed like all hope was lost, until we found this: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R08i7o-R2wI/AAAAAAAAAIs/hIRWctZXNEE/s1600-h/noname1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R08i7o-R2wI/AAAAAAAAAIs/hIRWctZXNEE/s400/noname1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138364107859286786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't tell what it is? Take a bit closer: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R08jGo-R2xI/AAAAAAAAAI0/3Iy_YN1oyeM/s1600-h/noname.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/R08jGo-R2xI/AAAAAAAAAI0/3Iy_YN1oyeM/s400/noname.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138364296837847826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly this say: LC and Congressional Staff. Once we realized I had access to the building, we let the guards know I was there, and we went about our business. We got many pictures inside, but if Big Brother were watching, I would be in big trouble, so we'll just leave it at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was a rousing good time. Bless you Dale and Anna Day! And I hope we can all have a Dale and Anna Day everyday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*2nd have no fear I will get to my tags, and I'm sorry for the horrible photo quality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6250469152454925904?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6250469152454925904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6250469152454925904&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6250469152454925904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6250469152454925904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/11/dale-and-anna.html' title='Dale and Anna'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/R08i7o-R2wI/AAAAAAAAAIs/hIRWctZXNEE/s72-c/noname1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-6755257651961093766</id><published>2007-11-15T17:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T17:24:14.556-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections</title><content type='html'>Last week, at lunch, my coworker, boss, and I were talking about about college, and the the conversation came to what we would do over again, and what classes we would take and which ones we wouldn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation really got my mind thinking about life. It's so funny how hindsight is 20/20. I've been reflecting back to lots of moments in my life. I understand that I can't change the past, and I don't know that I would really want to. Things that have happened in my life have made me who I am today, the good and the bad. Though this is true, it's been running through my mind a lot. I've played back situations. I admit, I've done some pretty dumb things in my life, but there are some great things too. As I've contemplated over those dumb moments, I've realized that I don't think I would change any of them, except possibly one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This moments has been one that will still haunt me occasionally, to this day. I don't think about it regularly, but when I do I wish I could do it all over again. I don't know if doing it all over again would change any of the course of events of my life (though if you watch Back to the Future, you will realize even these little things can change the future, especially if you see your past or future self. This will affect the Space Time Continuum.) It's quite possible that things could be different if this moment were to change, which is not what I really want to happen because as I said everything to this point has made me what and who I am. However, I would like to change that one moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm fully aware that I can't, but but it's nice to think that I would've done something different. Blast you hindsight and your 20/20 vision!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RzzGwI-R2vI/AAAAAAAAAIk/QQxVucRKBp8/s1600-h/Back_to_the_Future.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RzzGwI-R2vI/AAAAAAAAAIk/QQxVucRKBp8/s400/Back_to_the_Future.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133196205640243954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6755257651961093766?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6755257651961093766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6755257651961093766&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6755257651961093766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6755257651961093766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/11/reflections.html' title='Reflections'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RzzGwI-R2vI/AAAAAAAAAIk/QQxVucRKBp8/s72-c/Back_to_the_Future.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-2696933653087349464</id><published>2007-11-14T09:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T09:53:05.981-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update From Last Night's Post</title><content type='html'>So while I was in Sheetz last night, I was waiting for my sandwich. There was a group of father's with their young sons all ordering form the touch screens. (Typical father dinner) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was observing the little boys, and they were discussing how great Sheetz was. You would've thought they were at a 5 star restaurant the way they were talking, commenting on how nice it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just chuckled to myself, though I really did want to join in the conversation in total agreement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Side Note&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of cold in our office today, and my boss is wearing her coat around, only she's wearing it around her shoulders so it looks like a long black cape. I walked past her, and it looked like a vampire standing in our office.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2696933653087349464?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2696933653087349464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2696933653087349464&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2696933653087349464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2696933653087349464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/11/update-from-last-nights-post.html' title='Update From Last Night&apos;s Post'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-3206135177994870129</id><published>2007-11-13T20:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T09:43:12.356-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Secret Love Affair</title><content type='html'>As I went through the week, last week, I came to the realization that I am in love. And not only am I in love, there are actually two that hold my affection. And today I present to you the top 10* reasons why I love each. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what holds such a high place in my heart? Well if you must know....(you have to promise not to tell).....7-11 and Sheetz. I've always had a love for 7-11. In fact,it's part of the reason I could never live in Idaho permanently. There are no 7-11's! Now Sheetz, it's only been in the past year that I've realized my love for them, in fact it's probably in the last six or seven months. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets start with Sheetz:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. The touch screen orders at the little food place&lt;br /&gt;9. They are always so bright and big&lt;br /&gt;8. They have delicious hot chocolate&lt;br /&gt;7. They sell no bake cookies&lt;br /&gt;6. The bread they use for their sandwiches&lt;br /&gt;5. They have Pepsi slusie machines. (I've never actually had one, but Pepsi is my favorite soda)&lt;br /&gt;4. The bathrooms are always clean and they have a promise of cleanliness in them. (note, they've at least been clean in the ones I've been in)&lt;br /&gt;3. You can say the name and it sounds kind of like a swear word&lt;br /&gt;2. The Sheetz gas truck. I love to imagine it's filled with milkshake.&lt;br /&gt;1. Which brings me to my last point. Their milkshakes! They are delicious, and you get to make it yourself. What more can a girl ask for? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7-11:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. The smell. I have fond memories of walking into a 7-11 as a child and smelling the store. &lt;br /&gt;9. They always sell my favorite flavor of Naked Juice. So when I can't find it anywhere else, I can always count on 7-11&lt;br /&gt;8. I one time went on their website to see how many were in my hometown. It was over 20. My favorite is the two 7-11's next to one another. &lt;br /&gt;7. 7-11 hot dogs. I've always loved them, and sometimes I crave them&lt;br /&gt;6. The free chili and cheese for hot dogs and tortilla chips.&lt;br /&gt;5. Day laborers always stand out in front in the morning. &lt;br /&gt;4. They too have yummy hot chocolate. &lt;br /&gt;3. Cool cups to collect for various movies and promotions&lt;br /&gt;2. The Big Gulp&lt;br /&gt;1. And finally, THE SLURPEE!!!!! I'm pretty sure this is the greatest thing ever. The crazy part is, there is nothing like it. I've had slushies, and other imitations, but nothing is like a Slurpee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Neither list is in any particular order. Oh, except for #1 on each list. They take the cake. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get a sandwich at Sheetz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-3206135177994870129?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/3206135177994870129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=3206135177994870129&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3206135177994870129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3206135177994870129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-secret-love-affair.html' title='My Secret Love Affair'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-8127383997729294181</id><published>2007-11-08T15:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T15:51:09.932-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought for the Day</title><content type='html'>My coworker had a baby back in June. In about a week she will be five months old. My coworker is usually the first point of contact when people call, so they often ask about how the baby is doing. I heard her tell someone the other day, she's a good girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about this, and how many five month old babies do you know that are good? There's only so much trouble you can get into at that age. In my last stint at Compton, I did not notice any 5 month old babies. Maybe they keep them in a different set of cells. I don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was kind of amused by this comment, but I usually am by most things that come out of her mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I welcome any thoughts on the behavioral status of a five month old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8127383997729294181?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8127383997729294181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8127383997729294181&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8127383997729294181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8127383997729294181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/11/thought-for-day.html' title='Thought for the Day'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-7030445170838208166</id><published>2007-11-06T10:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T10:11:13.253-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today I Did My Civic Duty and Got an Admirer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RzCCdBwJEwI/AAAAAAAAAIc/3096FBqfxcY/s1600-h/i-voted.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RzCCdBwJEwI/AAAAAAAAAIc/3096FBqfxcY/s400/i-voted.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129743410773168898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got up way too early for my liking this morning so I could make it over to the polls before work, otherwise I wasn't going to make it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hope was that because I got an earlier start, traffic would be kinder. Well, no such luck. Because of the rain, it was the same as usual. However, as I was driving, I noticed this car on my left. There was a guy leaning forward giving me the thumbs up sign. I smiled, and kept driving hoping to avoid him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, it's starting to get colder, and so I have my heat on in the morning, but I still like my windows cracked. So I had the music going, windows down, and heat blasting. Then out of no where, the guy is on my left. He has his window down. He tells me I'm beautiful. I had to chuckle a bit and continue driving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, the rest of my ride involved trying to avoid this guy even if it meant having a huge gap between the me and the car in front of me. Though I've often thought if it weren't so creepy, traffic would be a great place to meet people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So even if it was a bit creepy, it did make me feel good this morning, but I'm glad the man didn't try and follow me to work....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7030445170838208166?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7030445170838208166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7030445170838208166&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7030445170838208166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7030445170838208166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/11/today-i-did-my-civic-duty-and-got.html' title='Today I Did My Civic Duty and Got an Admirer'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RzCCdBwJEwI/AAAAAAAAAIc/3096FBqfxcY/s72-c/i-voted.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-9121070720958215496</id><published>2007-11-05T11:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T13:46:51.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Feel Good Weekend</title><content type='html'>So these are some of the highlights of my weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night we had a Relief Society activity- I think it was a very good bonding experience for all of us, and I really enjoy spending time with everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday-Up at the crack of dawn for a YUMMY breakfast.  Then we headed up to the DC Temple to help put up the Christmas lights.  In all my years, I've never been up there to help.  It was a rousing good time.  My friend and I were in a group of people we didn't know.  It turned out to be quite a bonding experience.  After our set of lights did not work, we got the guy that was in charge.  He basically told us that it was our fault, and this had never happened in the history of putting up the lights.  Despite our circumstance, we had a good time.  Who can complain about free lunch, listening to beautiful carols, and finding the nativity camel.  (And believe me, as soon as I get a hold of those pictures, it's going up.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday afternoon I went to the Temple with a couple of girls from my ward.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then that evening, I went for a run with my mother.  I am now more comfortable with my ability to run the race in two and a half weeks.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday-What a fantastic day!  It was beautiful weather.  Three four and half to five hours I was at church were really good.  I really enjoyed them.  And Sunday evening, I went with some of my family to the Temple Visitor's center to watch a fireside with the &lt;a href="http://www.the5browns.com/"&gt;5 Browns&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was good weekend, and it's apt to be a good week as well.  I've got a few things on tap that I'm really looking forward too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-9121070720958215496?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/9121070720958215496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=9121070720958215496&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/9121070720958215496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/9121070720958215496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/11/feel-good-weekend.html' title='Feel Good Weekend'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-1074022310367046149</id><published>2007-11-02T12:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T12:35:15.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Bandwagon</title><content type='html'>I wanted to jump on that wagon and tell about my Halloween. It's the in thing right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I got home right as the sun was barely going down. This is a big milestone because very rarely do I get home and still have the joys of sunlight...well at least in the past few weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my &lt;a href="http://www.publicignoramus.blogspot.com"&gt;friend's&lt;/a&gt; been training for a marathon. I too have been training, only for much smaller pursuits. In a few weeks I'm going to run a 5K with my mom and dad. This is kind of big deal for me because I've never run a race before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the days when I run, it's usually later at night around 9 or 10. I go running with my mom, and our neighborhood is set up in a way that allows it to be a makeshift track. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home on Halloween, with hopes that I would be able to run earlier. The night before, my mom and I ran at 7:00PM, and I loved this. Let me also add that running on Wednesday is always more difficult because my mom go plays basketball and doesn't go running, and it's not so safe for me to be skipping around the neighborhood alone at night. In my head I thought this would be the perfect night because the place would be filled with people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's what I did. Also, take in mind I like my night running because no one can see me. But I let go of my issues and just ran my little heart out. I was as much as neighborhood attraction as anything else. It was a rousing good time. One man in a wolf man mask even came running with me for a bit. He was a bit creepy, but harmless....I hope. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the run, I sat and gave out candy with my little brother. Our Chinese next door neighbors gave us some strange cupcakes and moon pies. (They're always giving us weird things)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the night just got a little strange. A hay ride came through down our street. (Hay rides are not a regular occurrence on my street) My mom and I were pretty sure they were some sort of recruiting group trying to get children to join their group named "Children of the Corn." I will have to explain this part at another time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my favorite part of the evening was the two people sitting across the street. They were not giving out candy, but sitting there with a bottle in a bag between the two of them, drinking. As people came to their house, they would shout we don't have any candy. Maybe next year I will sit out drunk on the porch telling people that we don't have any candy, but I thought I would sit out here to make people think I had candy.....yeah that's what I'll do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-1074022310367046149?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/1074022310367046149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=1074022310367046149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1074022310367046149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1074022310367046149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/11/halloween-bandwagon.html' title='Halloween Bandwagon'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-5563369381381152250</id><published>2007-11-01T13:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T13:23:11.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering Jorge Arbol and the Rice Days</title><content type='html'>So today my memory flashed back to two incidents in college. They both were separate from  each other, but each brought a smile to my face. It's strange because I haven't thought of these in years, and they both occurred my sophomore year in college, which happens to be my best year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first will call the Rice Days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember that we ate a lot of rice that year. We were a pretty close group of roommates, and often ate dinner together. Now the way I learned to cook rice, you always add butter to the rice and water. This is even what it says on the directions. I know you don't HAVE to, but it does say to do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anytime I made the rice, two of my roommates (they were twins) would always tell me how good it was and wanted to know what I did to it. The twins didn't add butter to their rice, and this was the reason for the difference in taste. It amused me because they had never even heard of adding butter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me chuckle just thinking about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second story occurred in December of my sophomore year. Some of my roommates were on a date and were at our apartment. I went to dinner with another roommate and a friend. Afterwards we decided to by a Christmas tree at the lot right next door to our complex. We decided to doorbell ditch the tree at our apartment. My roommate answered the door, and really thougt someone had left a tree. I don't know if it's one of those things you had to be there for or just know my roommate, but when I remembered it at lunch today, I really had to control myself from busting out in laughter, or my boss and coworker might think me crazy. We loved that tree, and named him Jorge Arbol. It brought joy to the world as well as peace on earth and good will to men...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really was a good year. I love feeling nostalgic!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-5563369381381152250?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/5563369381381152250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=5563369381381152250&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5563369381381152250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5563369381381152250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/11/remembering-jorge-arbol-and-rice-days.html' title='Remembering Jorge Arbol and the Rice Days'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-246018250633396447</id><published>2007-10-30T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T09:26:09.421-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well You Certainly Clean Up Well</title><content type='html'>I'm including some pictures to illustrate an incident that occurred the night before they were taken. I've noticed that I tend to look better on the weekends, and I think other people have started to notice that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee50/vafriends/DSC01131.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee50/vafriends/DSC01100.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee50/vafriends/DSC01097.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee50/vafriends/DSC01075.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice that I look pretty dang good in these pictures. So I have to laugh at that because the night before I went to a function where I looked even nicer, and a friend came up to me, and he said, "Laura I've never seen you look so pretty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh ye of little faith. I'm sure people worry about my presentation sometimes, but rest assure, when needed, I can play the part.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-246018250633396447?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/246018250633396447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=246018250633396447&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/246018250633396447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/246018250633396447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/10/well-you-certainly-clean-up-well.html' title='Well You Certainly Clean Up Well'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-3486752827412051487</id><published>2007-10-26T09:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T09:35:12.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Airing My Grievances</title><content type='html'>I have an issue that I've had a problem with for a while:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My coworker when ever she says thank you, actually says spank you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 28, I don't think you should ever be saying this, let alone in the workplace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and also, I hate Halloween, but love everything else about fall. I've been kind of sad because this Fall hasn't really been Fall. I realized for the one day in these past few months that Fall is really my favorite season. I love everything that is Fall. In risk of sounding too sentimental, I will not go into my reasoning, but just know it's makes me so happy. And now that I've written the word Fall so many times, it feels like it's not a word anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Iggy and Gnome, I am completely aware that you both wrote about the weather today. It reminded me that I've wanted to blog about Fall. I wish I could say I didn't read them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-3486752827412051487?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/3486752827412051487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=3486752827412051487&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3486752827412051487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3486752827412051487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/10/airing-my-grievances.html' title='Airing My Grievances'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-4975167821436738700</id><published>2007-10-24T10:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T10:39:33.032-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blast From the Past</title><content type='html'>So there I was sitting in the Salt Lake Airport, minding my own business. I decide to check my email, and I there in my inbox was an email from an old friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rewind:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dated this guy in college, and after the break-up things were ugly...very ugly. I It involved two ex girlfriends, and the new one that eventually became the wife. Needless to say, the new girl hated my guts, but me and girlfriend #1 (I'm #2 in the story) became pretty good friends. (This was a partial cause of the ugliness)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, boyfriend and new girl got married, and just a few months later girlfriend #1 got married. I hadn't heard from her since. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well yesterday, I got an email from her wanting to know how life was. Her email promised updates on boyfriend. I'm very excited about this, as I often wonder where BF is at and what he's up to. (All of the other actors in this play are Idahoans, and live near each other). I cannot wait to hear from GF #1.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-4975167821436738700?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/4975167821436738700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=4975167821436738700&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4975167821436738700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4975167821436738700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/10/blast-from-past.html' title='Blast From the Past'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-3141588151228374614</id><published>2007-10-21T17:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T17:59:15.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogger Without a Cause</title><content type='html'>So, it's been a while since I've written. There are many hours spent of my day thinking of amazing topics to write about on here. Sadly, I never take the time to do it. It's doesn't take a long time, but it's something I don't do much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many people do a good job with their blogs, and I feel as though I am able to keep up with their lives through their blog. Unfortunately, this is not the case with me. I could go missing on the face of the planet, and my blog readers would never know. (Though I have the sinking suspicion that there are actually only 4 or 5 readers out there...that's okay.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the past three weeks, I've been on various trips, gallivanting across the United States. It's been wonderful. I don't want to return to the real world. In fact, I'm still on one of those trips now. I want to try and be a better blog writer when I return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit here, I cannot think of any of the topics I've previously thought about, so I will just include some pictures, from my New York trip, last weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RxvX0Dzd5FI/AAAAAAAAAH0/dBa3UFSLBI0/s1600-h/160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RxvX0Dzd5FI/AAAAAAAAAH0/dBa3UFSLBI0/s400/160.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123926290438415442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Riding the elevator in our hotel. We stayed at the Marriott Marquis in Times Square.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RxvXpDzd5EI/AAAAAAAAAHs/xASqw-qARMo/s1600-h/137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RxvXpDzd5EI/AAAAAAAAAHs/xASqw-qARMo/s400/137.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123926101459854402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Riding the escalator in Macy's.... I just realized that both of these pictures are on forms of transportation that will get you up and down. ha ha)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-3141588151228374614?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/3141588151228374614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=3141588151228374614&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3141588151228374614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3141588151228374614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/10/blogger-without-cause.html' title='Blogger Without a Cause'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RxvX0Dzd5FI/AAAAAAAAAH0/dBa3UFSLBI0/s72-c/160.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-6102021597916186603</id><published>2007-09-28T07:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T07:44:23.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Must See TV</title><content type='html'>NBC did not disappoint me. I watched the premier of The Office last night. I laughed, I cried, it was everything I could've hoped for. It reconfirmed to me why it's my favorite show. My mom heard, that you shouldn't miss the first two minutes, and it was true. So as not to ruin it, all I will say is it contains a scene that to me is good comedy and makes me laugh anytime I see it in a show or movie.  It is my favorite scene in the movie Elf.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad it's taped because I'm sure I will watch it again this weekend. And for those of you that missed it, it is available on NBC's website.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6102021597916186603?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6102021597916186603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6102021597916186603&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6102021597916186603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6102021597916186603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/09/must-see-tv.html' title='Must See TV'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-1572833424904308147</id><published>2007-09-27T07:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T08:07:30.957-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day Has Come</title><content type='html'>I used to have a long list of show that I watched. These days, it's not so many. I don't usually have a lot of time, or take the time to watch much TV. However, there are a few that I hold near and dear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is The Office. I am in LOVE with this show! And tonight it has it's Season 4 Premiere. You have no idea how excited I am. This show brings so much laughter and joy to my heart. Just hearing the theme songs makes me so happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/n_5oaOujLtg"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/n_5oaOujLtg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-1572833424904308147?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/1572833424904308147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=1572833424904308147&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1572833424904308147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1572833424904308147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/09/day-has-come.html' title='The Day Has Come'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-6985019384896321547</id><published>2007-09-19T15:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T15:55:03.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>That's My Boy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RvGMhM2HmWI/AAAAAAAAAHY/BeGLl2iTYyw/s1600-h/spader.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RvGMhM2HmWI/AAAAAAAAAHY/BeGLl2iTYyw/s400/spader.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112021554054011234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations James on your Emmy win Sunday night.  I'm glad you beat out that James Gandalfino guy.  Although I would watch your back from now on.  Those mafia guys are tough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6985019384896321547?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6985019384896321547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6985019384896321547&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6985019384896321547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6985019384896321547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/09/thats-my-boy.html' title='That&apos;s My Boy!'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RvGMhM2HmWI/AAAAAAAAAHY/BeGLl2iTYyw/s72-c/spader.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-2196077087894556641</id><published>2007-09-18T12:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T12:48:48.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Will Be Missed.</title><content type='html'>This weekend I lost a near and dear friend to me. We've been friends for a while now, and we were pretty much inseparable. I can't even describe to you the feelings I had when I knew my friend was gone. The pain was just too much. I am doing much better now, but I still miss my friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RvAPWCq7NjI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/eiodfM5R6Bc/s1600-h/cingpinkrazr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RvAPWCq7NjI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/eiodfM5R6Bc/s400/cingpinkrazr.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111602448413963826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2196077087894556641?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2196077087894556641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2196077087894556641&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2196077087894556641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2196077087894556641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/09/you-will-be-missed.html' title='You Will Be Missed.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RvAPWCq7NjI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/eiodfM5R6Bc/s72-c/cingpinkrazr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-5602391216498156207</id><published>2007-09-11T09:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T09:59:03.721-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When The Boss Is Away The Employees Will....Get Really Frustrated?</title><content type='html'>Sometimes when my boss is not here, I just want to shoot myself. I know it's my lack of patience, but sometimes I feel like the only voice of reason in the office. All hell usually breaks loose when she is gone. I'm much like Jim from the Office: The Voice of Reason.  I keep it all together.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RuasYDMmISI/AAAAAAAAAHA/uzlgUxE-LPw/s1600-h/jkras_adorableface-745901.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RuasYDMmISI/AAAAAAAAAHA/uzlgUxE-LPw/s400/jkras_adorableface-745901.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108960356473381154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in other related news, my nine year old brother told me that if I met Andy from the Office, he would probably want to date me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RuasvzMmITI/AAAAAAAAAHI/XZBSGS1M2Hk/s1600-h/andy.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RuasvzMmITI/AAAAAAAAAHI/XZBSGS1M2Hk/s400/andy.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108960764495274290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Andy, if we ever do meet. I do not want to date. You are a dork.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-5602391216498156207?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/5602391216498156207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=5602391216498156207&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5602391216498156207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5602391216498156207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/09/when-boss-is-away-employees-willget.html' title='When The Boss Is Away The Employees Will....Get Really Frustrated?'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RuasYDMmISI/AAAAAAAAAHA/uzlgUxE-LPw/s72-c/jkras_adorableface-745901.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-553959682168188344</id><published>2007-09-07T13:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T13:16:55.958-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Magic Post</title><content type='html'>This is the post where I use my magic powers and make the post "I amuse myself" disappear. It will be like you never read it, and then my desire to become a spy will come true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Iggy for helping me realize that telling these kinds of dreams eliminate their chance of coming true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-553959682168188344?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/553959682168188344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=553959682168188344&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/553959682168188344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/553959682168188344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/09/magic-post.html' title='Magic Post'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-2648667417493024132</id><published>2007-09-07T06:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T06:53:47.128-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't make the rules.</title><content type='html'>There are rules in life that govern traffic. I'm not sure why this is so, but it's set in stone and oh so very true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday and today I discovered two of these rules.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  If you leave your house ten minutes late you, will get to work 30 minutes late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  If you leave your house ten minutes early, you will get to work 30 minutes early.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2648667417493024132?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2648667417493024132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2648667417493024132&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2648667417493024132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2648667417493024132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-dont-make-rules.html' title='I don&apos;t make the rules.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-8237700641432217877</id><published>2007-09-06T11:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T11:08:04.537-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I really amuse myself.</title><content type='html'>Two things that I just found really funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Our front desk person rang my phone to let me know someone was ready for an interview.  I sighed into the phone because I didn't really want to do it.  Funny part, she had me on speaker....oops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I was sitting in a meeting with my boss this morning, and going through my head was something like this, "I think it would be really cool to be a spy.  How can I become a spy?  Maybe I will get into intelligence.  Yeah, I want to be a spy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8237700641432217877?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8237700641432217877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8237700641432217877&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8237700641432217877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8237700641432217877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/09/sometimes-i-really-amuse-myself.html' title='Sometimes I really amuse myself.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-7418565253965481180</id><published>2007-09-06T10:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T11:03:50.614-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year Anniversary</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a big milestone.  It was a year to my start date with Subway.  I was very reflective in how my life has changed over the past year, and how I am definitley different in some ways, but this post is not going to be those things.  I just wanted to say how I celebrated it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was supposed to meet a friend yesterday for lunch, but they were stuck in a meeting, so I got stood up.  We were supposed to eat at Subway, so I still ate there anyway.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part.  It is the Subway right next to my old office building.  So I got my lunch, and walked over and ate at the bench right across from my old boss' office.  The building has tinted windows, so there was no way of knowing if they could see me or not, but I felt like I was doing something daring and brave....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7418565253965481180?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7418565253965481180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7418565253965481180&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7418565253965481180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7418565253965481180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/09/one-year-anniversary.html' title='One Year Anniversary'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-8509793201813860342</id><published>2007-08-31T07:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T07:51:05.507-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We All Live in a Yellow Submarine*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RtgNndpGGeI/AAAAAAAAAG4/sEZgYQTVqJA/s1600-h/YS-A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RtgNndpGGeI/AAAAAAAAAG4/sEZgYQTVqJA/s400/YS-A.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104845149247511010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Warning: This post has nothing to do with the Beatles, Ringo, or the color yellow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So growing up American, I have had my fair share of fast food. There are some places that I had more than others. They were cheaper, faster, and easier. So some fast food restaurants were viewed more as a treat. They were the ones that I only had on special occasions. The one that comes to my mind is Subway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subway was something that I probably didn't even know about until I was older, and then it was something that I maybe had two times a year at most. It was more expensive, and it was something we didn't have very often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even when I got to college, and at one point there were about 3 Subways in our town (It's a small town), I didn't have it very often. I once worked in a call center in college and it was above a Subway. It always smelled like fresh bread in that call center and for years I associated Subway with Western Wats. While working at Western Wats I had Subway only one time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to the year 2006. I had been out of college for a little over a year. I was looking for another job, as my first job was a nightmare. I had been interviewing, and I landed a job as an Operations Analyst for the Subway Development Corporation of Washington. For those of you not familiar with the way Subway runs, here is a quick run down. Subways are franchised. There is a headquarters in Milton, Connecticut. There are regions called Development Area. There the Development Agent helps franchisees with all areas of operation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where I came in. I was assigned so many stores and had to go in each month and inspect my stores, help with marketing, finances, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So on September 5, 2006 (A year ago next Wednesday) I started as a Operations Analyst for Subway. The first leg of training was actually working in a store and learning the ropes, for a week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they sent us off to Subway school. So my two coworkers and I headed up to Milton, Connecticut for two weeks for intense training. We spent anywhere from 8 to 10 hour days in a classroom and/or a store training. We only had one day off, in which I slept the entire day. I've never had so much information crammed down my throat in my life. To give you an idea of how intense. Everything is done by computers, but Subway wanted to make sure you knew how to do it all by hand, so we looked at inventory pages, and financial sheets, and blah blah blah....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After two long weeks, an excellent pillow fort made on my king size bed every night because I had a thousand pillows and rubbing elbows with hopeful franchisees, I graduated top of my class and I am now certified to run a Sandwich Shop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is my point you make ask? Well as I said. I didn't have Subway very often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well from the moment I started training, it's when it all began. The store I first trained in for 4 days, let me eat sandwiches. Then in Connecticut, it got worse. Subway HQ feeds their employees lunch for free, everyday. The menu, an all you can eat sandwich bar with every topping imaginable. (Luckily they did throw in a change of choice every once in a while, meaning, sometimes they added rice). So we had Subway everyday there as well as in our training store. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I came back to Virginia, and started my work. For the next 2 1/2 months I spent almost everyday in at least one Subway. Now these owners in hopes of good evaluations or just kind heartedness were forever offering free food. Now I'm one who likes free things, so I would have a sandwich, sometimes more depending on my mood. (By more I mean chips, drink, cookie. I didn't mean more than one sandwich)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never got tired of this. There was enough variety to switch it up. Unfortunately I hated the job and left in the middle of December. It was not my cup of tea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months later, I realized my disdain for Subway restaurants. I couldn't even go near one. The smell made me sick, and the thought of eating there made me want to gouge my eyes out. So I took a six month hiatus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well my friends, yesterday I was buying lunch for one of my employees (I know work at a staffing firm),and she wanted Subway. I decided to take the plunge, and have a sandwich. And believe or not, I was actually able to stomach it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I get you may ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RtgNKdpGGdI/AAAAAAAAAGw/3VmP80WCu10/s1600-h/sweet-onion-chicken-teriyak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RtgNKdpGGdI/AAAAAAAAAGw/3VmP80WCu10/s400/sweet-onion-chicken-teriyak.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104844651031304658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why the Sweet Onion Teriyaki of course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only regret is that I never tried enough of the choices while they were free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8509793201813860342?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8509793201813860342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8509793201813860342&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8509793201813860342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8509793201813860342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/we-all-live-in-yellow-submarine.html' title='We All Live in a Yellow Submarine*'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RtgNndpGGeI/AAAAAAAAAG4/sEZgYQTVqJA/s72-c/YS-A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-1606294016382149423</id><published>2007-08-29T14:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T14:08:15.891-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This too makes me very sad.</title><content type='html'>http://www.mtv.com/movies/news/articles/1568482/story.jhtml&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-1606294016382149423?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/1606294016382149423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=1606294016382149423&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1606294016382149423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1606294016382149423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/this-too-makes-me-very-sad.html' title='This too makes me very sad.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-6277420807704534396</id><published>2007-08-29T07:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T07:47:21.096-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad news.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RtVqptpGGcI/AAAAAAAAAGo/XfYJb1iIFEc/s1600-h/wigs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RtVqptpGGcI/AAAAAAAAAGo/XfYJb1iIFEc/s400/wigs.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104103017553467842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I found out some terrible news.  My insurance does not cover wigs...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-6277420807704534396?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/6277420807704534396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=6277420807704534396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6277420807704534396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/6277420807704534396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/bad-news.html' title='Bad news.....'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RtVqptpGGcI/AAAAAAAAAGo/XfYJb1iIFEc/s72-c/wigs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-5871150472297587471</id><published>2007-08-28T07:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T07:13:22.348-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Name that Tune</title><content type='html'>Have you ever heard a song on the radio and kind of liked it, only to have it overplayed. This is how I feel about the following song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EbJtYqBYCV8"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EbJtYqBYCV8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of catchy, and entertaining, but not when they play it on every single station. It really got me when it was on 97.1 WASH FM. For those of you not familiar with this station, it's where you turn when you want to hear Celine Dione's "My Heart Will Go On" or "Here and Now" by Luther Vandross. It's not where you play songs by The Plain White T's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way to work today, I must have heard at least three times on three different stations! I thought I was going to go insane. I did have the thought that maybe it was my fault. If I weren't so ADD, I would just leave it on one station instead of switching stations and putting in about four different CD's on my drive to work. (my commute was only about a half hour this morning) Either way, it's still annoying, and I would like control of the airwaves to end this problem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-5871150472297587471?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/5871150472297587471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=5871150472297587471&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5871150472297587471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5871150472297587471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/name-that-tune.html' title='Name that Tune'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-8413948043900978202</id><published>2007-08-27T14:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T14:34:19.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another day in the life of me.</title><content type='html'>So as a staffing consultant, I get to meet a lot of people.  I personally have interviewed well over 100 people, and this is just in person.  I can't even count how many people I've interviewed over the phone.  Because of this, I get to converse with some interesting people.  I decided I need to start posting some of these stories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's story just about a young naive girl.  She is currently making 30K.  She told me that she wants to make 40-45K.  I thought, "Poor stupid girl.  No one is going to pay you that with your experience."  Some people just don't get it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8413948043900978202?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8413948043900978202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8413948043900978202&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8413948043900978202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8413948043900978202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/just-another-day-in-life-of-me.html' title='Just another day in the life of me.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-8142161888271823090</id><published>2007-08-20T14:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T14:17:16.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Discovery</title><content type='html'>The older I get the more I learn about myself.  I was talking to a friend a few weeks ago, and they made a comment that made me think.  They said that I don't trust new people. After thinking about this and asking the person what they meant, I realized it's true.  I don't do very well with new people, not that I'm not friendly to them, but I don't really let them into my circle.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I thought about this, I realized that once I trust a person, I let them in whole heartedly.  I am pretty free with things that I will tell them, which can be a dangerous thing.  Although I also have different levels of trust.  Some people I will definitley share with more than others, but they have earned it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on the flipside I've realized lately, once a person's done something to lose that trust it's very hard to get it back.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm a jerk, but that's me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8142161888271823090?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8142161888271823090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8142161888271823090&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8142161888271823090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8142161888271823090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/self-discovery.html' title='Self Discovery'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-7314823896721613457</id><published>2007-08-16T11:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T11:53:13.969-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't get it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RsSAANpGGbI/AAAAAAAAAGg/WZMB_klAWJc/s1600-h/i9main.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RsSAANpGGbI/AAAAAAAAAGg/WZMB_klAWJc/s400/i9main.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099341419240626610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work in the staffing industry, and I help find people jobs. Above is what we call an I9. It proves that a person is eligible to work in the United States. I have filled countless numbers of the forms out. On the back there are several different documents that will prove your identity and your eligibility. The past couple of days I've been thinking about one in particular. It is known as the Permanent Resident card. First off, the pictures on there always look ridiculous. I can't really describe it; you would have to see it. But here is the part that gets me. I write down the document title, issuing authority, and the number. Then I write down the expiration date. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what I don't get. If it's a &lt;strong&gt;Permanent&lt;/strong&gt; Resident Card, why is there an expiration date?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7314823896721613457?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7314823896721613457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7314823896721613457&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7314823896721613457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7314823896721613457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-dont-get-it.html' title='I don&apos;t get it.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RsSAANpGGbI/AAAAAAAAAGg/WZMB_klAWJc/s72-c/i9main.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-2045879819630785870</id><published>2007-08-16T08:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T08:49:43.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Algebra II is a little more complicated.</title><content type='html'>Thursday+ Lack of sleep + One of your best friends moving + Stress = Feeling sick to your stomach and &lt;strong&gt;lots&lt;/strong&gt; of tears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2045879819630785870?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2045879819630785870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2045879819630785870&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2045879819630785870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2045879819630785870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/algebra-ii-is-little-more-complicated.html' title='Algebra II is a little more complicated.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-2886293953352028866</id><published>2007-08-13T14:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T14:26:48.499-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Factors I learned in Algebra.</title><content type='html'>Monday + Head Cold + Good Weekend = Unproductive Day&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2886293953352028866?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2886293953352028866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2886293953352028866&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2886293953352028866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2886293953352028866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/factors-i-learned-in-algebra.html' title='Factors I learned in Algebra.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-2391635616709967414</id><published>2007-08-13T12:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T12:31:27.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My fear</title><content type='html'>So I was thinking today that I have a fear of having ugly children. I know someone that recently had a baby, and I don't think the baby's that cute.  Mom is so proud though.   I wouldn't dare be a jerk and tell her what I thought, but I would hate to think that my baby was not so good looking, and everyone thought "Oh wow, that's an ugly baby!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2391635616709967414?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2391635616709967414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2391635616709967414&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2391635616709967414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2391635616709967414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-fear.html' title='My fear'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-7555912179505874031</id><published>2007-08-09T14:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T14:10:52.887-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring it Tyra!</title><content type='html'>So I'm feeling pretty cute today, in my new shirt from Old Navy, and my cute shoes I got during VA's tax free weekend.  And to top it off, I'm having a fantastic hair day!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I made my umpteenth trip to the restroom, I felt a hint of super model walk in my strut as I made my way down the hall.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RrtmOiWMEwI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/tQXOrv_ZM28/s1600-h/oldnavy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RrtmOiWMEwI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/tQXOrv_ZM28/s400/oldnavy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096779803223921410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RrtmOyWMExI/AAAAAAAAAGY/RshvQLjeMlg/s1600-h/wedges.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RrtmOyWMExI/AAAAAAAAAGY/RshvQLjeMlg/s400/wedges.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096779807518888722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7555912179505874031?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7555912179505874031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7555912179505874031&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7555912179505874031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7555912179505874031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/bring-it-tyra.html' title='Bring it Tyra!'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RrtmOiWMEwI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/tQXOrv_ZM28/s72-c/oldnavy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-363915036289552676</id><published>2007-08-09T09:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T10:45:29.001-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Drip Drip Drop....</title><content type='html'>So lately I've been trying to get my daily intake of water. That's a whole 64oz. I'm proud to say that I've been doing it. With this new goal comes consequence. Anyone that knows me, knows I am constantly going to the bathroom. Well imagine that times 10. I literally go to the bathroom at least 5 times, just while I'm at work. Some days it's more! I hate this. Luckily my boss has never said anything, but I'm sure she questions whether or not I really have to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To show you how bad it is, here is an example. Sometimes I like to switch it up, and I will use the restroom on the 3rd floor instead of our 2nd floor. Well I went, and then left the restroom. As soon as I walked out, I had to go again! Someone was still in there, so instead of making a fool of myself, I creeped down to 2nd floor and went again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized that this is all too much information, but I had to get it out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-363915036289552676?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/363915036289552676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=363915036289552676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/363915036289552676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/363915036289552676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/drip-drip-drop.html' title='Drip Drip Drop....'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-3325687605357666440</id><published>2007-08-07T13:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T13:26:53.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kenny, you take me back...</title><content type='html'>Kenny Cheney has a song called I Go Back; in it he says the line"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We all have a song that some how stamped our lives&lt;br /&gt;Takes us to another place and time&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have thought about that line often and how true it is. I find in my life it doesn't necessarily take me to a place in time. Instead, I find that different songs take me to different people. So I made a list of songs and the people they remind me of. Every time I hear these songs, I am reminded of the people who have or are currently in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hero-Hot Dan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When You Say Nothing At All-Kole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Baby and The Christmas Shoes –Elsie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Way You Make Me Feel-Katrina's dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking it Home -Matt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More Than a Feeling-Jason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad Day-Melanie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check Yes or No-Nathan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sailing Away-Janae and Elsie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady in Red-Greg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I Ask of You-Grant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wash that Man Right Out of my Hair-Silvia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Hips Don't Lie-Luisa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pachabel's Canon-Stefanee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YMCA-Lauren, Lauren, Stephanie, Sarah, Marcelle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bohemian Rhapsody and Cheeseburger in Paradise-Lauren&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Want it That Way-Carter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seasons of Love-Lauren and Lauren and Tommy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Need to Know-Guitar Boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about Love and All Out of Love-Elissa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky-Scott and Jeremy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duke of Earl-Christina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There really are a whole lot more, but it fear of boring you, I won't. I will say that I am going to see Kenny in concert at the end of this month, and he better sing my song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-3325687605357666440?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/3325687605357666440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=3325687605357666440&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3325687605357666440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/3325687605357666440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/kenny-you-take-me-back.html' title='Kenny, you take me back...'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-1637668593892438952</id><published>2007-08-01T10:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T10:55:06.267-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ribbit!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RrCrcSWMEuI/AAAAAAAAAGA/TsMtHCHKfAA/s1600-h/frog_legs55.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RrCrcSWMEuI/AAAAAAAAAGA/TsMtHCHKfAA/s400/frog_legs55.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093759681005621986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be somewhat of a picky eater. I wouldn’t try anything new. I kind of just stuck to what I knew. I’ve noticed that in the last year, I’ve shed that habit. I am more willing to try new things and open myself up to a world of options. The surprising part is I’ve actually liked a lot of what I’ve eaten. I’ve come to the point where I will try almost anything at least once. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So about a month ago, I was at a restaurant in Reston. I was going to order the frog legs and was quite excited. Well as it turns out, they were out of frog legs. I was very disappointed. Then this past Monday I was telling someone this story and how I am willing to try most things. Well last night, I went to dinner with the boss and her husband, and the temp and her husband, and much to my surprise, frog legs were on the menu! I was so excited, but very nervous that I would be disappointed again. When the waiter came, I timidly ordered fully expected him to say no. I was wrong. They had them! I got to taste my first ever frog legs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I was finished I was so excited, and wanting to share in my joy sent a MASS text. As people were replying I was very amused by the varying responses, and I thought I would post them all anonymously today*. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I pity the next man to kiss you!&lt;br /&gt;-Where?! I ate some in Thailand!&lt;br /&gt;-Yuk!&lt;br /&gt;-Taste like chicken? &lt;br /&gt;-Eww! Nasty!!&lt;br /&gt;-What? That’s amazing! Why would you do that to yourself? Poor frog.&lt;br /&gt;-Congratulations!&lt;br /&gt;-Good for you. How did they taste?&lt;br /&gt;-Yuck!&lt;br /&gt;-Nice well you are well diverse in French cuisine now&lt;br /&gt;-Just like Scott&lt;br /&gt;-Yummy&lt;br /&gt;-Nice! Was it like Chicken? &lt;br /&gt;-Ah rabbit!&lt;br /&gt;-Gross! Why? &lt;br /&gt;-Hmm that don’t sound good to me. Steak for me.&lt;br /&gt;-Are you being adventurous?&lt;br /&gt;-Haha good job! Tasty? &lt;br /&gt;-Taste like seaweed and chicken huh?&lt;br /&gt;-Boney?&lt;br /&gt;-What are you a black person from the south now?&lt;br /&gt;-Frog legs are a common snack food. Next try eel backbones&lt;br /&gt;-Frog legs That’s awesome!&lt;br /&gt;-Did it taste like chicken? &lt;br /&gt;-Yummy! Save some for me : ) &lt;br /&gt;-Yay! What an accomplishment! &lt;br /&gt;-I can’t believe you ate frog legs? Yuck….&lt;br /&gt;*Some of these were from the same people after a response was given. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RrCsXSWMEvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/oYewZRTsptk/s1600-h/johnnugent_frog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RrCsXSWMEvI/AAAAAAAAAGI/oYewZRTsptk/s400/johnnugent_frog.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093760694617903858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my synopsis, yes they did taste like chicken, with a slight hint of fish, or as one responder said, “seaweed”. Would I eat them again? Yes, they were delicious!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-1637668593892438952?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/1637668593892438952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=1637668593892438952&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1637668593892438952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/1637668593892438952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/08/ribbit.html' title='Ribbit!'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RrCrcSWMEuI/AAAAAAAAAGA/TsMtHCHKfAA/s72-c/frog_legs55.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-5551997065957407431</id><published>2007-07-31T08:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T08:38:33.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Queen of England</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/Rq85BiWMEtI/AAAAAAAAAF4/XmMc0mz5aqI/s1600-h/jk-rowling.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/Rq85BiWMEtI/AAAAAAAAAF4/XmMc0mz5aqI/s400/jk-rowling.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093352402141844178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I know that this is JK Rowling, but lets face it she is the real Queen of England. Has Lizzie ever produced such fabulous writing? Does she have as much dough as my girl JK? To these questions, I say "NO!". So lets all take a day to remember our real Queen on this day as we celebrate her 42nd year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Now when you watch this video, please imagine JK there and not Lizzie.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q0uMWVYfl_c"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q0uMWVYfl_c" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-5551997065957407431?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/5551997065957407431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=5551997065957407431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5551997065957407431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/5551997065957407431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/07/happy-birthday-queen-of-england.html' title='Happy Birthday Queen of England'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/Rq85BiWMEtI/AAAAAAAAAF4/XmMc0mz5aqI/s72-c/jk-rowling.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-8539172340028617994</id><published>2007-07-25T16:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T16:32:07.251-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Given the chance, I could probably solve all the world's problems</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RqfBFSWMEsI/AAAAAAAAAFw/lZxgpj_au6k/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RqfBFSWMEsI/AAAAAAAAAFw/lZxgpj_au6k/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091250200334045890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So about month ago, I was leaving work. I had to be somewhere, but also had two errands to run in between. I quickly realized that I was not going to be able to do both. So I was caught between a rock and a hard place, a catch-22...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to choose between picking up some food for dinner or going to Best Buy to find the CD I had been looking for. Now I know what you are think, "but Laura, no one buys CDs anymore. In this age of MP3 players, IPODs, IPHONE, etc. Well my friend, I do not own any of these, therefore I do still dabble in the art of purchasing CD's.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I decided to go with the CD. As I was at Best Buy, I had an ingenious idea. What do people love? Food and electronics. If Best Buy were to offer a cafe, it could solve a lot of problems. It's a match made in heaven! I'm sure you're thinking that it could cause a lot of damage, but given the proper boundaries, I'm sure it would work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I submit to you today that we all petition for a cafe in all Best Buys. It's worked for Border's and Barns and Noble.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-8539172340028617994?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/8539172340028617994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=8539172340028617994&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8539172340028617994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/8539172340028617994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/07/given-chance-i-could-probably-solve-all.html' title='Given the chance, I could probably solve all the world&apos;s problems'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RqfBFSWMEsI/AAAAAAAAAFw/lZxgpj_au6k/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-2684766399165619746</id><published>2007-07-25T14:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T15:11:38.585-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My vent</title><content type='html'>Okay so my co-workers have told me a lot lately of why I'm still single. Instead of venting on that, I want to write about an issue that I feel is discrimination in the workplace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To give you some background, I am in an office of four women.(Although one is a temp). I am the only one of these ladies without a spouse. That too is not my complaint. My complaint is when it comes to getting personal calls. I don't really get any on the work phone because I don't give out my work number, but all three of the other ladies always get calls from their husbands (granted, my boss is included here, and she owns the business, so she can do as she pleases.) Anyway, I feel that if I were getting personal calls all the tim, I might get in trouble. So because I have not been as successful in some areas of life as they have, should I be denied some of the same privileges? I think it's not fair!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh yeam, I feel the same way about smokers.  Smokers always get more smoke breaks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2684766399165619746?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2684766399165619746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2684766399165619746&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2684766399165619746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2684766399165619746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-vent.html' title='My vent'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-7654888473273355456</id><published>2007-06-21T11:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T11:49:48.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It will be mine, oh yes it will be mine.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/K4VieMjZYfI"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/K4VieMjZYfI" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-7654888473273355456?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/7654888473273355456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=7654888473273355456&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7654888473273355456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/7654888473273355456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/06/it-will-be-mine-oh-yes-it-will-be-mine.html' title='It will be mine, oh yes it will be mine.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-2294060653936924736</id><published>2007-06-21T08:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T09:18:16.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My top three</title><content type='html'>Hello world! No I did not die. I am back and ready to blog. I've had plenty of ideas in my head, I just haven't taken the time to sit down and write them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I've come to the realization that there are 3 things that really help me relieve stress, and I am here to say, that I accomplished all three in one night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.Shopping- When this occurs, I pretty much will buy whatever falls into the cart, but it feels pretty darn empowering to think that you can buy whatever your heart desires and not care about anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RnqH7GmWrjI/AAAAAAAAAFg/9-PTHHnBiJc/s1600-h/shopping_bags_page_1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RnqH7GmWrjI/AAAAAAAAAFg/9-PTHHnBiJc/s400/shopping_bags_page_1.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078520979267169842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Playing Basketball- This used to be a stress causer for me. Due to my competitive nature, activities like this got me really riled up. Last night it felt so good to play. I haven't played in months, and while I couldn't hit anything to save my life, it felt good to be on the court again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RnqIGGmWrkI/AAAAAAAAAFo/j6xh7VDB2dY/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RnqIGGmWrkI/AAAAAAAAAFo/j6xh7VDB2dY/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078521168245730882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Driving with the windows down, and the volume up- There are few things in this world that give me energy like this. I highly recommend this activity. All of your worries go away when you are at this point. And to make it even better, I listened to a song that brings joy to my heart and many fond memories, and now I share it with you. (I dedicate this to Elissa, Elsie, and Katrina)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kuuUXnhfQGI"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kuuUXnhfQGI" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because of these three things, for a few hours last night, I was able to forget my stress and all the things on my mind and just enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2294060653936924736?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2294060653936924736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2294060653936924736&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2294060653936924736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2294060653936924736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-top-three.html' title='My top three'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RnqH7GmWrjI/AAAAAAAAAFg/9-PTHHnBiJc/s72-c/shopping_bags_page_1.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-2514337752494857743</id><published>2007-05-18T08:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T08:19:09.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversation at work</title><content type='html'>Me: I think she has a girl crush on me&lt;br /&gt;Coworker: I think she's lesbian&lt;br /&gt;Me: (shiver in a creeped out manner)&lt;br /&gt;Coworker: There are two kinds of Lesbians, pretty lesbians, and rambo lesbians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you have it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rambo.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2514337752494857743?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2514337752494857743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2514337752494857743&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2514337752494857743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2514337752494857743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/05/conversation-at-work.html' title='Conversation at work'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-4893299755783116509</id><published>2007-05-16T08:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T08:21:23.328-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For a blog called Laura explains it all, I sure have a lot of questions.</title><content type='html'>So I have another question that wanders the halls of my mind everytime I'm in the car and hear either two of the following songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wasted by Carrie Underwood.  &lt;br /&gt;Before he Cheats by Carrie Underwood.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me give you some lyrics, and then I will give you my quandry.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(From Wasted)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't wanna' spend my life jaded &lt;br /&gt;Waitin' to wake up one day and find &lt;br /&gt;That I've let all these years go by &lt;br /&gt;Wasted &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(From Before he cheats)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up 4 wheel drive,&lt;br /&gt;carved my name into his leather seats.&lt;br /&gt;I took a louisville slugger to both head lights,&lt;br /&gt;slashed a hole in all 4 tires.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So these two songs seem to be very conflicting.  Don't get me wrong, carving my name in someone's seats, and crushing their head lights sounds very empowering, but don't you thinking it's living life a little jaded?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carrie, I wish you would make up your mind.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RksDUzEK8WI/AAAAAAAAAFI/axYL_s8azdY/s1600-h/carrieUnderwood.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wBRP22nD9nw/RksDUzEK8WI/AAAAAAAAAFI/axYL_s8azdY/s400/carrieUnderwood.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065145861748224354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-4893299755783116509?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/4893299755783116509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=4893299755783116509&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4893299755783116509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/4893299755783116509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/05/for-blog-called-laura-explains-it-all-i.html' title='For a blog called Laura explains it all, I sure have a lot of questions.'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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/_wBRP22nD9nw/RksDUzEK8WI/AAAAAAAAAFI/axYL_s8azdY/s72-c/carrieUnderwood.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7573177172124825712.post-44977416431753883</id><published>2007-05-15T13:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T13:20:21.410-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Enrique has a new song</title><content type='html'>Can anyone tell me why all of Enrique Iglesias' songs sound the same? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GLj-7-FQykc"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GLj-7-FQykc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-44977416431753883?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/44977416431753883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=44977416431753883&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/44977416431753883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/44977416431753883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/05/enrique-has-new-song.html' title='Enrique has a new song'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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-7573177172124825712.post-2928541196939895153</id><published>2007-05-02T22:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T18:16:19.027-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Such a Copycat</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure why I'm doing this other than, I need to do a new blog, and I'm too tired to write my own stuff right now.  &lt;br /&gt;                        &lt;br /&gt;Four jobs I have had in my life -&lt;br /&gt;1. Paper Girl&lt;br /&gt;2. Cook&lt;br /&gt;3. TOYS "R" US Guru.&lt;br /&gt;4. Staffing Consultant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four movies I watch over and over again -&lt;br /&gt;1. The Best Two Years&lt;br /&gt;2. The Wizard of Oz&lt;br /&gt;3. Stomp the Yard&lt;br /&gt;4. Coach Carter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four places I have lived -&lt;br /&gt;1. Virginia&lt;br /&gt;2. Rexburg, ID&lt;br /&gt;3. Denver, CO&lt;br /&gt;4. Aurora, CO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four television shows I watch -(This is when I acutally sit down and watch TV, and I don't do it as much as I would like to.)&lt;br /&gt;1. Gilmore Girls&lt;br /&gt;2. Boston Legal&lt;br /&gt;3. Lost&lt;br /&gt;4. The Hills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four places I have gone on vacation -&lt;br /&gt;1. Disney World and Land&lt;br /&gt;2. The Outerbanks&lt;br /&gt;3. NYC&lt;br /&gt;4. Atlanta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four websites I visit daily -&lt;br /&gt;1. my.expresspersonnel.com&lt;br /&gt;2. Careerbuilder.com&lt;br /&gt;3. Gmail &lt;br /&gt;4. MySpace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four of my favorite foods -&lt;br /&gt;1. Cereal&lt;br /&gt;2. Ice Cream&lt;br /&gt;3. Grapes and Apricots&lt;br /&gt;4. French Fries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four places I'd rather be right now -&lt;br /&gt;1.Bed&lt;br /&gt;2. Kings Dominion&lt;br /&gt;3. Elissa's house.  &lt;br /&gt;4. Vegas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five people I tag -&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7573177172124825712-2928541196939895153?l=more2lala.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/feeds/2928541196939895153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7573177172124825712&amp;postID=2928541196939895153&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2928541196939895153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7573177172124825712/posts/default/2928541196939895153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://more2lala.blogspot.com/2007/05/such-copycat.html' title='Such a Copycat'/><author><name>Ms.LMC</name><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></feed>
