tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16649834862033095262023-11-16T07:30:04.052-05:00One Blonde GirlAprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.comBlogger278125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-73930183586607113452011-08-14T15:45:00.000-04:002011-08-14T15:45:25.632-04:00You're Invited!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://cdn.image1.pingg.com/20110814/2278339.web.template.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://cdn.image1.pingg.com/20110814/2278339.web.template.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sweetfeetshuffle.blogspot.com/"><b>Sweet Feet Shuffle</b></a></div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-29350779935808742712011-08-11T15:22:00.000-04:002011-08-11T15:22:01.156-04:00In Which I Explain My Departure from OBG<br />
Yes, after months of contemplation, I have decided to abandon One Blonde Girl. I no longer have the drive nor the passion to continue this blog. The <i>imagined</i> pressure of having to maintain a certain (negative) attitude on this blog has gotten to me. I no longer feel that I am in the same place as I was when I started this blog, and therefore I can no longer continue. I went back and forth on my decision to bail on OBG, and occasionally I still have discouraged, down-in-the-dumps, bitter moments when I think, "this would make a great post!", but those moments have become few and far between. My life has changed, and so my blogging needs have changed.<br />
<br />
I'm not exiting the blogging world for good, but I'm certainly (drastically) changing directions. As I mentioned a few days ago, I've started a new blog, <a href="http://sweetfeetshuffle.blogspot.com/">Sweet Feet Shuffle</a>, that I feel is a better reflection of my newly discovered self. I certainly don't expect <i>everyone</i> to join me in my new home, but I hope that a few of you may be interested and will follow me. While in the shortly lived prime of OBG, I really enjoyed writing here and the feedback I received from you all. I will miss being here, but I think my new home will be a better, more positive, place for me to be.<br />
<br />
<i>An excerpt from Sweet Feet Shuffle:</i><br />
<blockquote><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">About Me</span></i></b><br />
Hi. My name is April, and I'm a 30-something year old blogger. I'm a soon-to-be first time mom, an elementary art teacher, and an all around good person (in my opinion). I am often crafty and artsy. My favorite, most rewarding thing to do is to work with my hands, whether it be baking, working with clay or assembling IKEA furniture (I'm a pro!). I also have a short attention span and numerous, fleeting interests, which has me bouncing back and forth between projects and activities.<br />
<br />
While I would never consider myself to be spiritual (and certainly not religious), I strongly believe that optimism and positive thinking have a significant influence on my life. I try to avoid negativity and "bad vibes" in order to be as happy in my life as I can. I believe in Karma, or at least a version of it, and I have recently come to terms with the fact that I am relatively superstitious.<br />
<br />
I've been involved in the blogging world for a few years now, and due to some drastic changes in my life over the past year, I decided to recreate, so-to-speak, my blogging identity to better suit my current outlook on life. I started blogging as a means to "find" myself and discover what it was I wanted from life. My blogs were a place for me to reflect and collect. While I was still "lost" in life, I found my blogs had ventured into very bitter, negative and resentful places, often masked with an attempt at humor. It'd been very hard for me to continue with those blogs because I no longer felt like I was in that place, but I felt that I had to continue maintaining that image <i>for my readers</i>. I was no longer being true to myself and went on hiatus in order to re-evaluate my reason for blogging. Enter Sweet Feet Shuffle, a blog that I hope will be a more realistic representation of my life, as it is now. A life that has become very positive, happy and satisfying.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Why "Sweet Feet Shuffle"?</i></span><br />
While in grad school I was working on a journaling art piece that had me documenting my experiences with insomnia. During this process I kept notes on the phrases and images I could recall from the fleeting moments of sleep I managed to get. "Sweet feet shuffle" happened to be one of those phrases, and it seemed so poetic and appropriate that I knew I needed to somehow incorporate it into my life. When I decided to create a new blog for my new life, I immediately knew what I would call it.<br />
<br />
I don't expect to be a daily blogger, and I plan on focusing more on content and quality rather than quantity. As my interests change frequently, my content most likely will to. I anticipate that this blog will become a reflection of who I am, an account of the more enjoyable aspects of my life, and a place to collect all the things I love. I intend on writing about being a new mom, including my adventures in cloth diapering and breast feeding. I may include aspects of my teaching life, although I do maintain a separate blog for that. I'll include stories about my family, about general things in life and probably even some DIY projects and tried-and-loved recipes. I might include some fashion posts, some design posts and maybe even some posts about my own art work. Most of all, I intend for this blog to be a positive place for me and my readers.<br />
<br />
Of course, I'm not all sunshine and rainbows. I do have a penchant for the darker side of life. I'm an avid Stephen King reader, a horror movie lover, and my musical tastes tend more towards punk/post-punk/alternative rock/indie rock, so you can expect aspects of that side of me to trickle through onto this blog as well.<br />
<br />
Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you are able to find something enjoyable or informative here, and if not, that's okay too!</blockquote>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-32394663369845003082011-08-08T15:22:00.001-04:002011-08-08T15:22:45.314-04:00I've Moved!<br />
Well, not me personally, but I'm in the process of moving and combining my multiple blogs to make life easier for me. You may find that I have transferred some content from this blog over to my new location, but you might not. Most likely you were unaware that I have been juggling 5 blogs up until today (although some have become quite neglected), and so I decided to realign my blogging life to meet my new and improved lifestyle (compared to when most of my blogs were started). So... here's where you can find me now....<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://artteachershateglitter.blogspot.com/">Art Teachers Hate Glitter</a></b>- A blog about the realities of the day in the life of an art teacher. I very rarely post lesson plans or project ideas and instead I mostly write about the real-life struggles of being an elementary art teacher. With humor. Most of the time.<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://sweetfeetshuffle.blogspot.com/">Sweet Feet Shuffle</a></b>- My newest, consolidated blog (making One Blonde Girl and The Bittersweet Blonde obsolete). Things you'll find here will include DIY projects, links to cool and pretty things I like, posts about being a new mom, posts about things I may be doing in my everyday life, artsy posts, and whatever my new found happy-go-lucky self decides to write about. What you will not find here is the bitterness and down-on-life sh*t I was prone to writing about at my now defunct blogs. This blog is significantly less anonymous than my others.<br />
<br />
The other two blogs that I'll be maintaining will remain out of the public realm. One is for my family and close friends, and the other is private, just for me and my daughter-to-be.<br />
<br />
I hope that you can all find something you like with my content and can join me in my new home!<br />
Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-30882775933125972102011-03-30T21:46:00.001-04:002011-03-30T21:49:08.019-04:00Remember When We Used to Get Drunk Together? <br />
<i><b>Yeah, me neither. But damn! Those hangovers were a bitch, weren't they?</b></i><br />
<br />
On my way home from work today I was thinking hard about potential blog posts. Usually driving is a great time for me to brainstorm, but lately? Not so much. I've got nothing. Nothing at all. In fact, It's time to take an official hiatus.<br />
<br />
So... I'm officially taking a break. I realize I've been on a break for awhile now, but at least by making it "official" I'll no longer feel guilty about <i>not </i>posting. I'm too distracted by all the great things happening in my life right now to give this blog proper attention.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7scEWJSZN8SA2Bd3zPRpSI0W0xDn6ZOQXEXkSTpAK8deVo1wnOefuE0T_J8P68CzGS5rbfqwioFZMDivbTOdBkxxb78vjduyA-CTfGnZlloDQbVIQO_MTnoYcyGCU_G6gk34ERVk2VY0/s1600/hiatus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7scEWJSZN8SA2Bd3zPRpSI0W0xDn6ZOQXEXkSTpAK8deVo1wnOefuE0T_J8P68CzGS5rbfqwioFZMDivbTOdBkxxb78vjduyA-CTfGnZlloDQbVIQO_MTnoYcyGCU_G6gk34ERVk2VY0/s320/hiatus.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>(Yes, this is my actual baby-to-be. Yes, baby-to-be is a girl.)</i></div><br />
Do I intend on returning? Who knows? I've got some events and get togethers and time off coming up in the near future, so... maybe. In the meantime, you can still find me writing about the "joys" of teaching art to snot-nosed brats at <a href="http://artteachershateglitter.blogspot.com/">Art Teachers Hate Glitter</a>, or you can find me and all my new found gushy soft spots for pretty girly things at <a href="http://bitterblonde.blogspot.com/">The Bittersweet Blonde</a> (If you're the kind of person who's interested in baby updates and style and design, this is the place for you). <br />
<br />
'Till next time! Or not.Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-30236102105257581392011-03-16T06:41:00.000-04:002011-03-16T06:41:40.890-04:00Wordless Wednesday <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0uqD3pzbSDjS1_orYoW_i1u9santKz51fh0UvsxrDSL5emmCbHp7Mc6WvNbwkFkwDoabbh8quFuUNR6IGK_U41YyyHFSPjHISkk27Igco8NAUyga-4j-C2Zkuz39X9S5Pi6L5rAsCqXA/s1600/tumblr_li4stcfgAx1qfoe7mo1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0uqD3pzbSDjS1_orYoW_i1u9santKz51fh0UvsxrDSL5emmCbHp7Mc6WvNbwkFkwDoabbh8quFuUNR6IGK_U41YyyHFSPjHISkk27Igco8NAUyga-4j-C2Zkuz39X9S5Pi6L5rAsCqXA/s320/tumblr_li4stcfgAx1qfoe7mo1_400.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">DISCLAIMER: Please don't think this is true and get on my case. I'm not a smoker</span>.</div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-29077340627167315902011-03-08T07:00:00.000-05:002011-03-08T07:00:17.369-05:00RST: Alfalfa, Oatmeal, Food Poisoning, New Job, and Things I Miss <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://anne-a-bell.blogspot.com/"><img height="149" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm255/superstar_aeh/eyehand-1.jpg" width="251" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">It's Tuesday, which means, time again for another <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/search/label/Random%20Shit%20Tuesday">Random Shit Tuesday</a>! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<b>My randomness...</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHP_siC6d8qWsk7Ch-rktHpqlS7h0N5YGF3QfMfRsyWDLQaGspjwPPttKMiIgkFTR-o1WYA-zSnMaFJc0nE0Q2bIOpjF8uSCh2q0NorP3G7np0Y-Jj1RWiRLWatJT-60hYWq30jg0tBA/s1600/sheen2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="78" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHP_siC6d8qWsk7Ch-rktHpqlS7h0N5YGF3QfMfRsyWDLQaGspjwPPttKMiIgkFTR-o1WYA-zSnMaFJc0nE0Q2bIOpjF8uSCh2q0NorP3G7np0Y-Jj1RWiRLWatJT-60hYWq30jg0tBA/s200/sheen2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I hate giving this man anymore attention than he deserves, <i>however </i>maybe it's just me, but doesn't it look like Charlie has the same barber as Alfalfa? I can't help but think that every time I see him in a pic with this unfortunate center part (that and, <i>"Man, what a dork."</i>). </div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">I have yet to master the perfect bowl of oatmeal. It's either too dry and ends up like paste, or it's too watery. One of these days, though. One of these days. I'm determined. </div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Every time I'm cooking or cleaning in the kitchen, I pretend that I'm in a Goofy How To short circa the 1940s, and I imagine what the narrator would be saying about me. In my case it would be called How To Catch Salmonella in Your Kitchen. The narrator would say shit like, <i>"Notice how OBG dries her mixing bowl with the same towel she just used to wipe up that spilled egg. Ah yes, her chances of food poisoning are great now."</i></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><object height="349" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yzuUp8CcTqA?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yzuUp8CcTqA?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="349"></embed></object></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">The G-Man starts a new job in about a week and a half. I know what you're thinking, <i>"Wait, didn't he just get a new job?"</i> Yeah, he did, but that was, like, six months ago, so, you know, it's about time to move on. Actually, as it turns out, there were some sketchy things going on at that new job that the G-Man had been misled/lied to about when he was hired, and it was decided that it would be in his (our) best interest to move on. Don't worry though, it only took him about a month and a half to secure a new job this time, and he only turned done a few outrageously shocking job offers. The G-Man's luck blows my mind. If you can call it luck. I mean, who becomes a Senior Systems Engineer with only a Bachelor's degree in psychology (from a state school, no less!)? The G-Man, that's who. Really though, this new job is a good thing, no matter how much of a hard time I give him about it.</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">I miss raw sushi and regular cups of coffee and whiskey and wearing my favorite clothes and not gagging on red meat and sleeping on my stomach and eating popcorn for dinner and having an itch-free belly and...</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><br />
And that's all she wrote, folks.</div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-26690146808489982322011-03-07T17:17:00.000-05:002011-03-07T17:17:37.665-05:00Previously on OBG... Season 2 Premiere<div style="text-align: center;"><b><i> </i></b><br />
<b><i>Although inspired in part by a true incident, </i></b><br />
<b><i>the following story is fictional </i></b><br />
<b><i>and does not depict any actual person or event...</i></b><br />
<b><i>except that it does.</i></b></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Last Season on OBG...</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b> </b></div><div style="text-align: justify;">... <b> </b><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/06/previously-on-obg.html">New glasses were purchased</a>, <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/06/previously-on-obg_21.html">Snood was played</a>, there was a <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/06/previously-in-obg.html">hiatus</a> for God only knows what reason (read: probably a hangover), <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/07/previously-on-obg.html">4th of July was a wreck</a>, <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/07/previously-on-obg_13.html">bar brawls almost broke out</a>, a <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/07/previously-on-obg_19.html">bunch of people in a bar</a> talked about their kids, <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/08/previously-on-obg.html">meaningless shit</a> was discussed, hippies were <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/08/please-dont-puke-in-porta-potty-aka.html">puking in porta-potties</a>, and <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/09/previously-on-obg-19.html">people were stupid</a>. What does this season have in store for us? Let's find out.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Scene Begins.</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b> </b></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We're in the kitchen of OBG's townhouse, around 5:00 pm, on a Saturday night. OBG and the G-Man are on their way to a surprise 40th birthday party. OBG has just finished whipping up some appetizers, has removed the Brie en Croute from the oven, and is about to put the hot plate of golden cheese stuffed bread onto the serving platter when she notices something unusual. The G-Man is poking holes in the aluminum foil covering the mushroom turnovers. The act of hole poking isn't so unusual as it is beneficial for allowing the release of built up steam, thus preventing the turnovers from becoming soggy, but what <i>is</i> so unusual is that the G-Man has taken it upon himself to poke the holes without being asked to (OBG was about to do it after she dealt with the Brie en Croute). Thoroughly impressed, slightly taken aback and a tad bit distracted, OBG proceeds to move the plate of Brie to the serving platter.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b>"MOTHER FUCKER!"</b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b> </b></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">With a sudden clatter, the plate of Brie finds it's way back to the stove top as OBG, with tears streaming down her face, proceeds to nurse the burned fingers on her right hand. But not before putting the pot holder she was holding in her left hand down on the counter.</div><br />
<b>End Scene.</b><br />
<br />
<i><b>This Season on OBG...</b></i><br />
... What will this season bring for OBG? Will a new home, a new town, and the presence of new people bring exciting and interesting experiences for OBG <i>(Ed's Note: Probably not.)</i>? Will "pregnancy brain" and the impending birth of a baby have any impact on OBG's everyday life <i>(Ed's Note: Probably)</i>? Did OBG <i>really</i> leave her house and attend a surprise birthday party in her bedroom slippers <i>(Ed's Note: Yes she did.)</i>? And with alcohol off the table, will OBG's weekends be exciting at all? Will the audience even care? Is this the season OBG jumps the shark <i>(Ed's Note: Apparently the introduction of new characters has that effect)</i>? With all these Editor's Notes, do we even need to tune in for the next episode <i>(Ed's Note: ...)</i>? <br />
<br />
<b>Stay tuned to find out the answers to at least one of these questions</b> <b>and to the questions you never even knew you had.</b>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-24285219612754984052011-03-03T17:34:00.000-05:002011-03-03T17:34:19.554-05:00The Pros and Cons of Being Knocked Up (and I don't mean in the British sense) <br />
<blockquote><b>Pro:</b> I don't have to worry about whether or not the scant number of tampons left in the box will get me through this month's "visit".<br />
<b>Con:</b> I'm pretty sure the bloody mess at the end of this ride will more than make up for it.<br />
<br />
<b>Pro:</b> No more tumultuous and psychotic PMS.<br />
<b>Con:</b> I now cry at the drop of a hat. Or the fall of a student. Or while I'm standing in front of the pantry trying to figure out what to bring for lunch. Or during commercials. Or TV shows. Or upon receiving texts. Or when my Kindergartners just won't SIT DOWN AND GET TO WORK AND STOP CALLING MY NAME OVER AND OVER AGAIN. You get the picture.<br />
<br />
<b>Pro:</b> A medically valid reason for gaining weight.<br />
<b>Con: </b>After spending half my life trying to either maintain or lose weight, a guaranteed progression of weight gain is kind of hard to accept.<br />
<br />
<b>Pro:</b> Food cravings. Especially the ones for healthy things, like fruit.<br />
<b>Con:</b> Food cravings. Especially the ones for fruit flavored candy. And chili dogs. Mmmm... chili dogs... (which, by the way, I never ate before becoming knocked up).<br />
<br />
<b>Pro:</b> Bigger breasts.<br />
<b>Con:</b> Bigger breasts.<br />
<br />
<b>Pro:</b> A slow down in hair growth on parts of my body that aren't the top of my head.<br />
<b>Con:</b> Who am I kidding? This doesn't have a con. </blockquote><blockquote><b>Pro:</b> People seem validly concerned about my health and well-being.<br />
<b>Con:</b> The increase in attention and question slinging directed my way.</blockquote><blockquote><b>Pro: </b>Having an excuse for being tired/lazy/energetic/cranky/angry/whiny/happy/joyful/bitter/antisocial/stupid/clumsy/forgetful/tearful/giggly<br />
<b>Con:</b> Actually being all of those things. In one day.</blockquote><blockquote><b>Pro:</b> Having loose, relaxed muscles.<br />
<b>Con:</b> Repeatedly dropping platefuls of food on the floor that I <i>just</i> spent <i>many minutes</i> preparing in order to calm my growing, raging hunger.</blockquote><b><br />
</b><i>*Sigh*</i><br />
<br />
<b>24 more weeks to go.</b>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-16453649973238537032011-03-01T08:23:00.006-05:002011-03-01T08:23:00.559-05:00RST: Clothing Woes, Spidey, Beano, and Sheen-Oh (aka The lamest RST ever) <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://anne-a-bell.blogspot.com/"><img height="149" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm255/superstar_aeh/eyehand-1.jpg" width="251" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">It's Tuesday, which means, time again for another <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/search/label/Random%20Shit%20Tuesday">Random Shit Tuesday</a>! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<b>My randomness...</b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">One of my "favorite" games to play lately is <i><b>Does it Still Fit?</b></i> The "not a chance" pile keeps getting larger. Looks like someone is going shopping this weekend. *Sigh* (And if you don't understand this, you obviously missed <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-finally-explain-myself-or-something.html"><b>this</b></a> post.)</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGoRMERhZnoU0frb5-SkTiqpR5v8oM7iYGF3kU0W8Hg1Y9KFQD_ECtbfaORxrz3ImVWHGsx5bXHjupIflmbElBS3mVsrPl2BJXOx6gEWHXlhZFjdz0tCwXXyHQ2ukthMsYHK05eaCj_Go/s1600/spidey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGoRMERhZnoU0frb5-SkTiqpR5v8oM7iYGF3kU0W8Hg1Y9KFQD_ECtbfaORxrz3ImVWHGsx5bXHjupIflmbElBS3mVsrPl2BJXOx6gEWHXlhZFjdz0tCwXXyHQ2ukthMsYHK05eaCj_Go/s200/spidey.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>I briefly (as in a few weeks) had a housemate who was interning with the company that was building the set for the Spiderman Broadway musical last summer. Interestingly enough, he informed us that a production like Spiderman was never meant to be a success so that after it bombs on Broadway, they can immediately take it to the road. Too bad it has yet to really make it to Broadway and it is already bombing. Poor Spidey.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7lwJZjPpENVRE-L-8_4qGhZYozSO16piVWUhEnuXr8qjD3bvw9W1qhqCdioYMr0xky4gU_q3sw-XiCEmK3eNeGW2R-xw-nWJ_IQxPvSgzSr4qXiwT_ufqen2ZQ3gtC6owyMcbSiQYOAg/s1600/index.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7lwJZjPpENVRE-L-8_4qGhZYozSO16piVWUhEnuXr8qjD3bvw9W1qhqCdioYMr0xky4gU_q3sw-XiCEmK3eNeGW2R-xw-nWJ_IQxPvSgzSr4qXiwT_ufqen2ZQ3gtC6owyMcbSiQYOAg/s200/index.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I never, ever, ever thought I would have to purchase a product like this. At least, not for another 20 years or so, but I have to admit, I don't go anywhere without my Beano right now. I'm so grateful for it (and those who work with me should be as well). </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Seems this "condition" of mine comes with some wonderfully fun "side-effects". <i>(Oh, and dear Twin of mine, SHUT UP! I'm not talking to you anymore, because I know, you didn't have to go through any of this. You suck.)</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Good God, can Charlie Sheen just overdose already and get out of the spotlight? What a self-important, ego-maniac. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>And that's it. I've got nothing else. Except a headache. Talk about the lamest RST ever. </b><b> </b></div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-54873185182863158142011-02-25T17:41:00.000-05:002011-02-25T17:41:53.231-05:00I (finally) explain myself. Or something like that.<div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">You may find yourself making a trip to the grocery store for butter and sour cream.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And you may find yourself purchasing pickles as well.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And you may find yourself also buying chocolate chip cookies.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">You may find yourself in the candy aisle, with a bag of Starbursts in your hand.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">You may ask yourself, "Well, how did I get here?"*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And your answer to the above question will probably be one of the following:</div><ol style="text-align: justify;"><li>"I'm stoned, again."</li>
<li>"I'm shopping while hungry, again."</li>
<li>"I'm shopping while pregnant, again." -or- </li>
<li>"I'm shopping while frustrated with work, again." </li>
</ol><div style="text-align: justify;">If you're like me though, your answer to the above question will be</div><blockquote>5. All of the above <i>except for</i> #1 (that sort of thing is generally frowned upon while being #3). </blockquote><div style="text-align: justify;">Yup, that's right folks, you read that correctly. I... am... (<i>drum-roll please</i>) HUNGRY! Oh, and I'm pregnant too. Thought I should just throw that out there. It's already "Facebook official," so might as well tell the rest of the world. Here, I'll even share my "making it Facebook official" photo with you:</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz0xxwPtwZFzlb-Z-8D-18RqL6ds4QIRGafIWXGU1oSAWZ065GQ-sgBjGDGoN5d38cbxDQextfEgfZ9A_8oUBaYBoyAHISw6DJM-5VQ5yttXtOJMZdWQ3Z_hsLJsxJSTHzWUX_aI2kWRc/s1600/DSCN3257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz0xxwPtwZFzlb-Z-8D-18RqL6ds4QIRGafIWXGU1oSAWZ065GQ-sgBjGDGoN5d38cbxDQextfEgfZ9A_8oUBaYBoyAHISw6DJM-5VQ5yttXtOJMZdWQ3Z_hsLJsxJSTHzWUX_aI2kWRc/s320/DSCN3257.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Well, technically <i>I</i> am, but by default the G-man is too. Or something like that.)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, that's been my deal for the past so-and-so many weeks/months. Which is another way of saying I totally blame the person growing inside of me for why I haven't blogged in forever. This being pregnant shit can be <i>rough</i>. But I survived the milestones of the first trimester and am now honeymooning in the second. I didn't realize how bad I was feeling during the first three months until I started feeling good again. Like my stepfather always says, "The best part about pain is when it's over." Amen.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In case you're wondering, "Oh hey, OBG, if you're feeling so great now, how come you're <i>still</i> not back to blogging regularly?" Well, now it seems, despite my return of energy and easing up of nausea, I'm suffering from frequent migraines, and if you know anything about migraines, they make looking at a computer screen feel like there are shards of broken glass being driven through your eyeballs.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>(You aren't really affected by this, but I had to share that I needed to take two days off from this post in order to nurse a migraine. I'm back now. Again, I doubt you even noticed.)</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">You're probably wondering, "What does this all mean", right? Well, it means my life is in the process of changing significantly, and therefore so will my blog. In fact, I think I touched upon that <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/rst-homeless-man-laziness-home-alone.html">once</a> or <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-new-years-resolutions-v2011.html">twice</a> before. Don't panic yet though. I have no intention of becoming a "Mommy blogger," not that there's anything wrong with that. There are plenty of Mommy and Daddy bloggers out there that I enjoy and who do a pretty damn good job of writing some pretty gosh darn entertaining shit. I would be lying though if I didn't admit that being a brand new shiny mommy (or mommy-to-be) won't seep it's way into this blog. I'm sure it will. I'll try to keep it to a minimum though. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In the meantime, while I'm still trying (and can find the time) to sort out the direction of this blog, let me answer some FAQs before you ask them. When I'm finished, if you still have questions, you may find the comment section to be a suitable place to ask (that's the teacher in me speaking right there).</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote><b>OBG Prego FAQs </b>(in no particular order)<br />
<br />
<i><b>When are you due?</b></i><br />
In August. About mid-August. August 19th, to be more specific. If you're not any good at pregnancy math (and who is?), that puts me at 15 weeks.<br />
<br />
<i><b>What are you having?</b></i><br />
Um, I'm not well learned in the matters of biology, but I'm pretty sure we'll be having a baby. Oh, you meant what is the <i>sex</i> of the baby? Don't know yet. Ask me again in about a month, and if I'm in a good mood, I might decide to tell you. Or not.<br />
<br />
<i><b>Will you and the G-Man be getting married?</b></i><br />
Geez folks! We've only been together for 10 years. We should probably give it some time to see if we even like each other before we rush into any hasty decisions like marriage.<br />
<br />
<i><b>How are you feeling?</b></i><br />
Like there's a human being growing inside of me, and I no longer have control of my body.<br />
Like there's a massive water balloon that has taken up residency in my gut.<br />
But otherwise, not bad. My back's starting to hurt, and I get horrendous headaches, and I have horrible... Oh. You were just asking to be polite? You didn't really want a list of my woes? No problem. I feel great! Thanks for asking!<br />
<br />
<b><i>Do you have any cravings?</i></b><br />
Fruit and candy. And pickles, but that's nothing new.<br />
<b><i> </i></b><br />
<i><b>Will you be returning to work after wards?</b></i><br />
Uh, yeah! Did you not read <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-only-crazy-when-im-unemployed.html">this post</a>? Although, I'll admit, I have fantasized about being a SAHM (look! I know the lingo already!) for at least the first six months, while embarking on some creative endeavor that would allow me to do so and still bring in some dough. But I'm realistic. I'll have to go back to work.<br />
<br />
<i><b>Can we see pictures?</b></i><br />
Um... if you're family and/or close friends you can. I'm not sure how I feel yet about posting prego pics of me on the internet yet.<br />
<br />
<i><b>But what if we promise not to laugh?</b></i> <br />
Fine. I'll give you one picture:</blockquote></div><i><b> </b></i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ44B8qs9uYdDf__sL6Exj3xp6srdn9Xk9i4DnhwNiUWB0GOY_KSNVMF-4AgSgppqv0qdrntyMTUuhguK62mg49bb9-rX8esd-xMq58kUASmxC1VAsbzgb5zj8Lno0d52OFcPtViy58dA/s1600/Exported+Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ44B8qs9uYdDf__sL6Exj3xp6srdn9Xk9i4DnhwNiUWB0GOY_KSNVMF-4AgSgppqv0qdrntyMTUuhguK62mg49bb9-rX8esd-xMq58kUASmxC1VAsbzgb5zj8Lno0d52OFcPtViy58dA/s320/Exported+Image.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><b> </b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(The dreaded "pregnancy mask")**</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Alright, well that's enough with FAQs. And that's enough from me. I've got big important stuff to do. Or something like that. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Wait! One more thing. If you're so inclined, pop back and reread my <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-new-years-resolutions-v2011.html">New Year's Resolutions</a>. I promise you you'll see them in a whole new light. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">* Swiped from Talking Heads.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">** FYI this was at 13 weeks. There's a bump there, but mostly this will serve as a basis for comparison for all the future bump pictures I'll be taking for close friends and family.</span></div></div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-44694422193745179892011-02-14T16:15:00.000-05:002011-02-14T16:15:58.913-05:00Reasons Why...<ol><li>you have a crooked smile.</li>
<li>you let me take your car to work in bad weather even though you hate driving mine.</li>
<li>you turned Christmas music on for me when I was decorating the tree. and I didn't even ask you too.</li>
<li>you tolerate my flightiness.</li>
<li>you like to vacuum.</li>
<li>in an emergency, you will run to store for me and pick up feminine products. with zero complaints.</li>
<li>you have far more patience with me than I probably deserve.</li>
<li>you empty and reload the dishwasher without being asked to.</li>
<li>you have the balls to make up your own rules.</li>
<li>you tell me that you love me almost every single day.</li>
<li>you know that I like black licorice.</li>
<li>you laugh at me when I complain about my nose fat,</li>
<li>and when I dance around the house like a lunatic,</li>
<li>and when I sing loudly, horribly off-key and out of tune... in the car... and in the house.</li>
<li>it's fun to cook with you, </li>
<li>but sometimes you'll make me food without my help.</li>
<li>you know when I need a hug.</li>
<li>you hold me when I'm crying.</li>
<li>you're good at just about everything that you do.</li>
<li>you're the most intelligent and capable person I know.</li>
<li>you think quantum physics is light bedtime reading.</li>
<li>you have many hobbies and interests, which amazes me.</li>
<li>you're encouraging and supportive and, for the most part, so very understanding.</li>
<li>you're just plain wonderful.<br />
</li>
</ol><br />
<div style="color: #cc0000;"><b>... I'm so in love with you. </b></div><ol></ol>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-62985476623609219672011-02-04T22:29:00.002-05:002011-02-04T23:06:29.780-05:00OBG Returns to Blogging? Eh... <br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">The word on the street is, I've been a seriously slacking blogger as of late. And by <i>the street,</i> I mean Twin's blog, <a href="http://krissysue2.blogspot.com/">Mommy Doesn't Wrestle</a>, where she publicly scolded me for being absent. See?</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZw0qCmOQkU9H5bZNMpfCUGtZTmtU41PK9gOfLV0URg8UXp7lypBv9bU9Atvwdu19iywjYFTUmU85CSGTb2a0W34mQLk4F_ags0hKQjnH-Af5neKTu7EU20TObyo6S4a4W1uADaAcjekg/s1600/2-4-2011+8-53-59+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZw0qCmOQkU9H5bZNMpfCUGtZTmtU41PK9gOfLV0URg8UXp7lypBv9bU9Atvwdu19iywjYFTUmU85CSGTb2a0W34mQLk4F_ags0hKQjnH-Af5neKTu7EU20TObyo6S4a4W1uADaAcjekg/s640/2-4-2011+8-53-59+PM.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>click to enlarge</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I can't even be offended by this, because it's so very true. But you see, my life has been pretty... uneventful as of late. My weekdays consist of getting up at 6:00am, leaving for work at 7:00/8:00am (depending on which school I'm at), getting home at 4:00/5:00/6:00/7:00pm, catching-up on the ever-important internet news (aka Facebook), eating some food, watching some Netflix, and going to bed. Pretty frickin' boring stuff that I'm <i>positive</i> nobody wants to hear about. I'm bored just writing it.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And my weekends aren't any better. There used to be a time when my weekends were filled with all sorts of <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/search/label/the%20weekend">debauchery</a>, but lately? Not so much. In fact, as I type this, on a Friday night, before 10:00pm, the G-Man is snoring away on the couch, and I'm contemplating heading to bed soon. Of course, this means I have very little material for my blog. As happy and content as I am with my life right now, life is pretty fucking lame. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3xuD7ajQprmbHZjW7WM6HmVXmrBHUHGGUcdkSuAV39LfFYTTsbRDD9jBcgicVJa7vLeR4iDhKO93BhkK8f3XJu4jipEg40r-cM8YCcyGnXvICfmWJdtEqtxc3vtx_kOVzG9tFSBRosoo/s1600/Russia_house_interior-1177.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3xuD7ajQprmbHZjW7WM6HmVXmrBHUHGGUcdkSuAV39LfFYTTsbRDD9jBcgicVJa7vLeR4iDhKO93BhkK8f3XJu4jipEg40r-cM8YCcyGnXvICfmWJdtEqtxc3vtx_kOVzG9tFSBRosoo/s320/Russia_house_interior-1177.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Actual dining room</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">The most exciting thing I anticipate my weekend providing is my bravery in trying caviar tonight when the G-Man and I went to the <a href="http://www.russiahouserestaurant.com/">Russia House Restaurant</a> for a rain-checked <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2011/01/mlk-jr-hijacked-my-birthday.html">birthday dinner</a> (I ended up getting miserably sick for my birthday). I had the Russia House Noodles and Caviar, by the way. The G-Man had Morskiye Grebeshki. I don't remember what that was. If you must know, look it up on <a href="http://www.russiahouserestaurant.com/dinner_%20menu.php">the menu</a>. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCoNkdk7ulHyq2WYLfdpP7cL73O53BPC7gc09O3KAUbLF7Y7KiO71SihsB7aE38fG_WqbXQ3kR9v4_gwe9kkq4DXhtrmhVJBVanK3lZFNXZcXTVWhtT7RqpFIrzYxvV4YOdMMSMTpg15E/s1600/Russia_House-0651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCoNkdk7ulHyq2WYLfdpP7cL73O53BPC7gc09O3KAUbLF7Y7KiO71SihsB7aE38fG_WqbXQ3kR9v4_gwe9kkq4DXhtrmhVJBVanK3lZFNXZcXTVWhtT7RqpFIrzYxvV4YOdMMSMTpg15E/s1600/Russia_House-0651.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Actual owners</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">In case you're wondering, the dining experience was really nice. From the moment you walk through the door, you're waited on by the <a href="http://www.russiahouserestaurant.com/about-herndon-restaurant-northern-va.php">actual owners</a>, who do everything from take your jacket, pull out your chair, flambe your appetizers table side, take your order, serve your food and bring you your drinks. Basically, they do it all. In fact, the only other staff I saw was the busboy. Granted, the place wasn't what you would call "hopping", but I was impressed nonetheless.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Last weekend wasn't any better. The highlight of that weekend was walking around the <a href="http://www.washingtonautoshow.com/">Washington Auto Show</a> for six or seven hours. I did get to sit in some pretty nice cars though. Towards the end of the evening, much to his dismay, the G-Man had to literally drag me out of the cars. If you've never sat in an Infiniti before, I highly recommend you do so. One could almost curl up and fall asleep in the comfy front seat of those cars. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">At any rate, life is happy. Life is lame. Tune in next week. I'm thinking of painting my toenails on Sunday, and I <i>know</i> you're going to be dying to find out what color. Will it be pink? Will it be silver? Will it be blue or red? Who knows? Things are wild and crazy here! It might even be *gasp* purple. </div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-5759149705247270272011-01-17T09:34:00.000-05:002011-01-17T09:34:42.200-05:00MLK Jr. Hijacked My Birthday<div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Lw3KW0xmcD-b1P4Qm755kn0IxQ6xxo5RcumtEnCUgbUKT8acvblSh5UvhS4q3P4ZDOMMys4hTT9wYCgNaa6Qw9FqMaAnH0J9unmsLZNiSmr1qFzhpPHfy-dPl2xQPdIMavZMawQ0g7c/s1600/happy-birthday-quotes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Lw3KW0xmcD-b1P4Qm755kn0IxQ6xxo5RcumtEnCUgbUKT8acvblSh5UvhS4q3P4ZDOMMys4hTT9wYCgNaa6Qw9FqMaAnH0J9unmsLZNiSmr1qFzhpPHfy-dPl2xQPdIMavZMawQ0g7c/s200/happy-birthday-quotes.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Awhile back there was this guy who fought for some things, said some other inspiring things, received a special day in honor of all these things, and every once in a while that special day falls on January 17th, and I get a day off for my birthday. So I guess it's not such a bad thing that I have to share it with MLK Jr. this year. It's not like I'm not used to sharing my birthday, what with the whole twin thing. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So yeah, I've got the day off, and my big plans include laundry, hanging curtains, cleaning, cooking, and maybe I'll throw a shower in at some point. There are some dinner plans to hit the <a href="http://www.russiahouserestaurant.com/index.php">Russia House Restaurant</a> (however, upon viewing <a href="http://www.russiahouserestaurant.com/dinner_%20menu.php">the menu</a>, I might be having second thoughts about it...) </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If you're so inclined, pop over and wish <a href="http://krissysue2.blogspot.com/">my sis</a> a Happy B-day.</div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-13932930789828729102011-01-11T07:29:00.001-05:002011-01-11T07:29:00.078-05:00RST: Homeless man, Laziness, Home alone, Snow and An explanation. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://anne-a-bell.blogspot.com/"><img height="149" src="http://i298.photobucket.com/albums/mm255/superstar_aeh/eyehand-1.jpg" width="251" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">It's Tuesday, which means, time again for another <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/search/label/Random%20Shit%20Tuesday">Random Shit Tuesday</a>! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><b>My randomness...</b><br />
<b> </b><br />
<b> </b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW3XFym7S7p2fDRk1ik31Up0y9wbQHYDUoguZP7J49Vb-6vpgIhSzj_4Gfe07BnJUrg8WSnPlF2gMeE-nUzblnJVZeRJSj4a1WtrDAgDIOR6DphK-Yv293DlkExigwgiZA8WCEXwWjYMo/s1600/Homeless-Man-With-Golden-Voice-Ted-Williams-ICEDOTCOM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW3XFym7S7p2fDRk1ik31Up0y9wbQHYDUoguZP7J49Vb-6vpgIhSzj_4Gfe07BnJUrg8WSnPlF2gMeE-nUzblnJVZeRJSj4a1WtrDAgDIOR6DphK-Yv293DlkExigwgiZA8WCEXwWjYMo/s320/Homeless-Man-With-Golden-Voice-Ted-Williams-ICEDOTCOM.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.ice-dotcom.com/">Source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>I'm happy for this man.</b> Really, I am. But can we please stop talking about him now? Yeah, I'm looking at you, Today Show. Please stop featuring stories about this man. I could really use a tear-free morning. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">I mean, okay. Tell us the story once, let me shed my tears, and then let's be done with it. Did you really need to then reunite him with his mother the next day, show footage of him calling her "Mommy", <i>and then</i> discuss how his mom doesn't want to be disappointed by him again?<br />
<br />
*Sigh* I'm tearing up right now.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Have you seen this yet?</b> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tqvxBdBI9rs?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tqvxBdBI9rs?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: justify;">It's no wonder foreigners hate Americans. We're so gluttonous and lazy!</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>I've spent some time home alone recently.</b> It sucks. I've noticed that I have, um, some <i>odd</i> behaviors when I'm home alone. </div><ul style="text-align: justify;"><li>I turn numerous lights on throughout the house and don't care about turning them off for fear that <i>something might get me</i> if I do.</li>
<li>When I sleep, not only do I close the bedroom door, but I also lock it. Yeah, it gets a tad nippy in there, but at least I have a barrier between me and would-be murderers.</li>
<li>I talk to myself.</li>
<li>I talk to inanimate objects ("Hey bed! I can't wait to crawl into you!").</li>
<li>I eat poorly. I mean, really, really poorly.</li>
<li>And I don't clean up after myself. At all.</li>
</ul><div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9k9ghbCBiy0nNR2FTooxmX35Bv1RjeysnwbuDb553pSb7YUbmpCqQlpLf_WtnqUIBSAeK3pPBgxAO3zMsEgh8H7ZwrC55NMnGC4_K3TOmK3vGa2rwRA-UaN1DL55YtNsz8Gv3Yifz8U/s1600/snow1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9k9ghbCBiy0nNR2FTooxmX35Bv1RjeysnwbuDb553pSb7YUbmpCqQlpLf_WtnqUIBSAeK3pPBgxAO3zMsEgh8H7ZwrC55NMnGC4_K3TOmK3vGa2rwRA-UaN1DL55YtNsz8Gv3Yifz8U/s320/snow1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.newtonvillebooks.com/blog/?p=353">Source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>I can't believe I'm going to say this.</b> I miss snow. Yeah, I said it. I miss <i>real</i> snow. I mean, if it's going to be so freakin' cold, there should at least be snow on the ground, right? Right now we have a weather warning in effect for our area. Apparently there's *gasp* an 80% chance it's going to snow tonight, and we might get *gasp* 1/2"-1" of snow accumulation. Whatever will we do? How will get anywhere tomorrow in such horrendous conditions? I should really go and stock up on some bread. And milk. Crap. What if it starts snowing while I'm at the store? How will I get home? WHAT WILL I DO?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Oh, right, I grew up in an area and a time when it was quite common to get hit with <i>multiple feet</i> of snow in one storm.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>I'm losing that blogging feeling.</b> I think I've mentioned this before, but I'm perfectly content with my life right now. I have no inspiration or motivation for blogging anymore. In fact, the thought has crossed my mind (numerous times) to quit altogether. I think my humor and cleverness comes from a dark, bitter place inside of me, and that place has been silent for quite awhile now. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I started this blog as an outlet while trying to deal with my nomadic and confusing lifestyle. I was trying to figure shit out. It appears that my life is in the process of settling down, and my shit is figured out. I know where I'm headed. I know, for the most part, what tomorrow will bring. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'd hate to give up on this blog altogether. But as my life is changing, I think it's time to revamp this ole' bloggy blog. There are changes on the horizon. A new voice. A new look. A new focus. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div></div></div></div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-71490044627484028482011-01-10T06:59:00.000-05:002011-01-10T06:59:00.163-05:006 Trends I'd Like to See Die in 2011 <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhapWMXlhj6L5cT-2t822nU3OjIM-tOqLPQqvvn3pXOAlzCi2lu1fNSBqpy5hsxpEP-JjCcwV87QCwc0Q23MouqTHCUzZG1iSaPndEfuM00e8A82xyudF5tISZ5jtGzsqU4IHikYjpKU_U/s1600/mustache-1-thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhapWMXlhj6L5cT-2t822nU3OjIM-tOqLPQqvvn3pXOAlzCi2lu1fNSBqpy5hsxpEP-JjCcwV87QCwc0Q23MouqTHCUzZG1iSaPndEfuM00e8A82xyudF5tISZ5jtGzsqU4IHikYjpKU_U/s200/mustache-1-thumb.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>1. Mustaches.</b> Enough already. Yeah, they were amusing for a bit, but now? It's time to move on. Let's leave the 'staches for the funky grandpas and Burt Reynolds. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Men's Facial Hair Trend I'd Like to See in 2011:</b> Bushy eyebrows. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> ------------------------------------------------------------</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglk-4OUYVAZRyIXWOHuQJnac-fl1NZuY0IIzCnUyDdRlMsE9PkWFxz1jSNFBEQgHqDxOq3VEhcGW1q6U68xHWLvUdBwKs_lCuKlhUT9IsTeMXvwl-6mK3xvu9kOU4OG4OlZ4oxsChJW2A/s1600/bacon-strip-bandages.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglk-4OUYVAZRyIXWOHuQJnac-fl1NZuY0IIzCnUyDdRlMsE9PkWFxz1jSNFBEQgHqDxOq3VEhcGW1q6U68xHWLvUdBwKs_lCuKlhUT9IsTeMXvwl-6mK3xvu9kOU4OG4OlZ4oxsChJW2A/s200/bacon-strip-bandages.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>2. Bacon.</b> Personally, I love bacon. As a food. Do I want to wear it/sleep on it/hang it on my wall/become friends with it on Facebook? No. Can we please put bacon back where it belongs? In the frying pan.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Meat Trend I'd Like to See for 2011: </b>Purchasing locally raised meat and poultry from independently owned farms.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> ------------------------------------------------------------</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxDPBBboujBptqyBAAAxORC1ucNQUS07hADSTlVqHgZFOBlCt0axK0TQp2hjtUiAwcqkZh28v-la67RjC6QUnAQmDsJZnYpDlpos9UBao6y4JYG3rjHQwsQUc43uPXEk3PTk9U672tpg/s1600/wedding_cupcakes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTxDPBBboujBptqyBAAAxORC1ucNQUS07hADSTlVqHgZFOBlCt0axK0TQp2hjtUiAwcqkZh28v-la67RjC6QUnAQmDsJZnYpDlpos9UBao6y4JYG3rjHQwsQUc43uPXEk3PTk9U672tpg/s200/wedding_cupcakes.jpg" width="199" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>3. Cupcakes. </b>Honestly, I liked cupcakes better before they were trendy. They were quick. They were easy. And you didn't feel guilty after eating one like you would after eating a mongo slice of cake. I'm happy the world is finally getting over them so I can now enjoy them again.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Baked Good Trend I'd Like to See in 2011:</b> Cup-pies, à la Chuck's cute little desserts from Pushing Daisies.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> ------------------------------------------------------------</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9F73cEtgaxKScKjGUKIXQvyl-oxPX9fi5QBGlo_GeqCYuWwRgYk36CjfXzZpZO3blkHszm6ZxxlMpK-Hv9cnxQ8-XaYMe-v_pgVQrolQla7r402OxtppOIKztQod0qKWhdGrniUlMIT0/s1600/skinny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9F73cEtgaxKScKjGUKIXQvyl-oxPX9fi5QBGlo_GeqCYuWwRgYk36CjfXzZpZO3blkHszm6ZxxlMpK-Hv9cnxQ8-XaYMe-v_pgVQrolQla7r402OxtppOIKztQod0qKWhdGrniUlMIT0/s200/skinny.jpg" width="163" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>4. Skinny Jeans.</b> Let's call an orange an orange, shall we? These are restyled <i>tapered jeans</i>. They weren't cool in the 80s/90s and they sure as sh*t aren't cool now. And unless you have the body of a tween, you're not going to be able to pull these things off. No, you're not. And if you think you are, you're friends are lying to you.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> <b>Jean Trend I'd Like to See in 2011:</b> Jeans made from 100% cotton.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> ------------------------------------------------------------</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54DGNwiVsSJIl9tRYpYeyuCS8-p64AlQdqsRc9Pxk2QEW1D_9W-mSNx-DkHSfFZX7-Zhdvh1VBCCOaHtZQPddsO6zkZJHq5FypaYHqMUtbpfFH6fc3USycbaxCWKarBuSjfc2-dzMMIg/s1600/lens8472941_1260368164Lounge_Pants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54DGNwiVsSJIl9tRYpYeyuCS8-p64AlQdqsRc9Pxk2QEW1D_9W-mSNx-DkHSfFZX7-Zhdvh1VBCCOaHtZQPddsO6zkZJHq5FypaYHqMUtbpfFH6fc3USycbaxCWKarBuSjfc2-dzMMIg/s200/lens8472941_1260368164Lounge_Pants.jpg" width="86" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>5. Pajamas as Clothing.</b> This has been an ongoing hot topic, and as long as I continue to see adults wearing their pjs in public, I'm going to continue to be against it. Wearing your jammies all day while hungover and in the safety of your own home? Okay. Wearing them <i>outside</i> of said home? Not okay.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Intimates Trend I'd Like to See:</b> Slips (worn as they were meant to be worn, as undergarments, not clothing).</div><div style="text-align: center;"> ------------------------------------------------------------</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefaNUZEnG_kC7JRf79AQgwDnGCVtpKxo6fbrvBGP1er0XiYWS5Dh08-tfgpYmkoyambq7V4dAWABCmAeOkLZ8FDgay_sWCick4mP454u9nXwr2q7sCmUiq4RW9B8GI7zbWqQ3-5zCPHY/s1600/mens-shaggy-hairstyle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefaNUZEnG_kC7JRf79AQgwDnGCVtpKxo6fbrvBGP1er0XiYWS5Dh08-tfgpYmkoyambq7V4dAWABCmAeOkLZ8FDgay_sWCick4mP454u9nXwr2q7sCmUiq4RW9B8GI7zbWqQ3-5zCPHY/s200/mens-shaggy-hairstyle.jpg" width="145" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>6. Longer, Shaggier Hair on Men.</b> This trend has been around long before that twit, Justin Bieber (my nephew has been rocking it for <i>years</i>). I say enough already! Go get a damn haircut already! (You look like a girl).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Men's Hair Trend I'd Like to See in 2011:</b> The powdered wig.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> ------------------------------------------------------------</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><b>What trends would you like to send to the grave?</b></span></i> </div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-42023663951062023002011-01-08T07:50:00.001-05:002011-01-08T07:50:00.244-05:00My Pear-y Christmas <br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">This Christmas my family surprised me with some of my gifts. It seems I have an affinity for all things pear right now, and my family <i>picked</i> right up on it. Check out these sweets treats they bestowed upon me!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQLD5HpSOlnl96N5WA8VZKa7r5UA2sPSzTCcm__NgbaMxfcjDbksqAjhSWnM7B41WPd_KFKSVBd_gO9oKBBsvvOrKt1OaTl6tL9lVHfSZtxQdv3mUvVRxj5ewdoHVAFk6QDv4JxOr9eeU/s1600/pear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQLD5HpSOlnl96N5WA8VZKa7r5UA2sPSzTCcm__NgbaMxfcjDbksqAjhSWnM7B41WPd_KFKSVBd_gO9oKBBsvvOrKt1OaTl6tL9lVHfSZtxQdv3mUvVRxj5ewdoHVAFk6QDv4JxOr9eeU/s320/pear.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/62118752/vintage-seth-thomas-pear-wall-clock">This</a> fabulous clock from Etsy seller, <a href="http://www.etsy.com/people/KitchenTableVintage?ref=ls_profile">KitchenTableVintage</a>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Now my challenge is to find a place to hang it!</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_XuaWncWrXx-7wwVc2OYsBAPTteqWuPXuHJDdm5rD4VrBU3Sz0k2NmKWjjvTgCBkmvYyo_vcIwU3qL3tOGnz5i69bCBCLa17dA334Ea_5qPq9T6J7nKQkuf2jMFJ1xmVxpZKOEABRoQY/s1600/pear2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_XuaWncWrXx-7wwVc2OYsBAPTteqWuPXuHJDdm5rD4VrBU3Sz0k2NmKWjjvTgCBkmvYyo_vcIwU3qL3tOGnz5i69bCBCLa17dA334Ea_5qPq9T6J7nKQkuf2jMFJ1xmVxpZKOEABRoQY/s320/pear2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Three of <a href="http://www.etsy.com/transaction/40063424">these</a> precious ornaments from Etsy seller, <a href="http://www.etsy.com/people/Defabricate?ref=ls_profile">Defabricate</a>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>I can't wait to hang these on my tree next Christmas!</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAyoOPQ9Q6-AXECbbx7e-wtFLYCyiXoKTXh66vLLAR_5oPwOeC3wi9kiUz1365emx1nlaCx56iCUVUaHtDQgcQnGJICt6uz1PnFNB5GLMeWR726oWNUZyZzCEYIN7QocEjtAINSb-aCA/s1600/pear3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAyoOPQ9Q6-AXECbbx7e-wtFLYCyiXoKTXh66vLLAR_5oPwOeC3wi9kiUz1365emx1nlaCx56iCUVUaHtDQgcQnGJICt6uz1PnFNB5GLMeWR726oWNUZyZzCEYIN7QocEjtAINSb-aCA/s1600/pear3.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.modcloth.com/store/ModCloth/Apartment/Kitchen+Bath/Aint+No+Egg+Timers">This</a> amazing timer from <a href="http://www.modcloth.com/">ModCloth</a>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Technically, this was an early birthday* present.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I can't wait to add to my pear collection now, and the color works perfectly with <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/retro-cool.html">my dream kitchen</a> color scheme!<br />
<br />
(*10 days away) </div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-24212892953291697752011-01-01T12:49:00.000-05:002011-01-01T12:49:50.036-05:00My New Year's "Resolutions" v.2011 <br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Last year I made a <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-new-years-resolutions-v2010.html">list of "resolutions"</a> that was pretty lame and, for the most part, unrealistic. I'm not a huge fan of the idea of "resolutions", nor do I necessarily like the definition of the word <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/resolution"><i>resolution</i></a>. Therefore, let's call these my <i>goals</i> of 2011 instead, shall we?</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><u><span style="font-size: large;"><b>OBG's Goals for 2011</b></span></u></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><ol style="text-align: justify;"><li><b>Gain Weight.</b> I know what you're thinking. Any resolutions or goals made in regards to weight are just about guaranteed to fail right out of the gate. This is a risky goal. I get it, but with enough determination, <i>I know</i> I can accomplish this goal. Sure, I might slip a few times throughout the year and actually end up <i>losing</i> weight, but I'm pretty sure that with the right diet and the right balance of exercising and loafing, gaining weight is a very attainable goal this year.</li>
<li><b>Try New Things.</b> I've got this one in the bag! In fact, I've already started. Today I tried soy milk for the first time (I'm not a fan). I am positive that in 2011 I will be able to try new things <i>all the time</i>, making this one of the smartest goals I could probably set for myself.</li>
<li><b>Buy New Clothes.</b> How can I <i>not</i> achieve this goal, what with the changing seasons and my anticipated success with goal #1? Plus, my wardrobe is still, primarily, geared for life in NY. It's time to switch over to a VA wardrobe.</li>
<li><b>Meet New People.</b> Again, a very doable goal, especially considering where I live and what I do for a living. In fact, I received an email just before winter break to inform me about new students entering the schools I teach in. That counts.</li>
<li><b>Play More Games.</b> And not the bad kind (mind games). The good kind. The ones that people play for enjoyment. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm going to jump on my Kindle sometime this afternoon and play a word game. </li>
<li><b>Decorate the House. </b>Boy does it need it. Although we're off to an okay start, this place really needs some more personality. We're talking curtains, wall decor, areas rugs, lighting... Heck, we're here until at least October. Might as well make it feel like home, right? (For the record, because we move around A LOT, we have a hard time settling into any place we live and making it feel like a comfy, cozy, welcoming <i>home</i>. We've decided to make an effort to do it with our current place of residence, especially since we really like it.)</li>
<li><b>Revamp the Blog.</b> I'm bored. Again. And when I get bored with something I decided to change it up quite a bit. Assuming I'll be able to find the time to do so this year, you can expect this little 'ole blog to go through some changes.</li>
<li><b>Disappoint Family Members.</b> This is pretty much a given for any year, so why not actually make it a goal? That way I can feel good about disappointing my family (you know, because I've accomplished a goal) instead of just miserable and guilty about it.</li>
</ol><div style="text-align: justify;">I think that's a decent enough list. I don't want to put too much on that list. Got to set the bar low. I tend to be an unambitious procrastinator, so the less I have to put off doing, the better. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>What are your resolutions/goals this year?</b></div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-21515253298459854482010-12-31T14:01:00.000-05:002010-12-31T14:01:14.182-05:00New Year's Eve: Yeah, let's do this thing.<div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZQOSpN49ChGUroshtA6g4mSaUkzo7PSUMPJ7SlTpVLvy035ona_pa-Py4uvq70QwvxUhyphenhyphenPxzGf0V3DRTm89ZJ4CkZtCrvXjX2Cw2rPFugTkswsNTrZOjIRCG5NVvyC03INmHBaXcxJ64/s1600/new-years-bucks-county.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZQOSpN49ChGUroshtA6g4mSaUkzo7PSUMPJ7SlTpVLvy035ona_pa-Py4uvq70QwvxUhyphenhyphenPxzGf0V3DRTm89ZJ4CkZtCrvXjX2Cw2rPFugTkswsNTrZOjIRCG5NVvyC03INmHBaXcxJ64/s320/new-years-bucks-county.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm not a fan of New Year's Eve. For one, I never plan far enough ahead to actually have anywhere fun or cool to be. Much like Halloween, in fact. I think these two days require ample planning for maximum fun. It never fails, the morning of (on NYE and H'ween), we're always trying to decide what to do, scrounging around for party attire, and ultimately deciding that participation in festivities will not be occurring this year. But NEXT YEAR. Oh yes, <i>next year</i> we'll plan ahead and do something really exciting! And then next year comes around, and we've once again neglected to plan ahead. Tickets have not been purchased. Slutty attire has not been acquired. Friends have not been contacted. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, this New Year's Eve I may or may not be going out. I may or may not be spending a quiet evening at home with Netflix (again). I may or may not be getting together with friends. I may or may not be watching the ball drop on TV. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">What I will do, though, is take a moment to compile my own Top 10 list for you (everyone loves a good Top 10 list this time of year, right?). <b>Enjoy, and here's wishing you all a safe end to 2010, and a glorious beginning to 2011!</b></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><u><b><span style="font-size: large;">OBG's Top <strike>10</strike> 11 Favorite Posts from 2010</span></b></u></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><ol><li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/02/dear-mr-sandman.html">In which I write a letter to the Sandman</a> </li>
<li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/05/warning-this-post-may-offend-you-if.html">In which I contemplate a life spent drinking with homeless people</a></li>
<li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/05/byotp.html">In which I confess my inability to peek before I pee</a></li>
<li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/06/one-blonde-girl-101.html">In which I reveal too much information</a></li>
<li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/06/previously-on-obg.html">In which I try my hand at soap opera levels of writing</a></li>
<li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/06/obg-and-mlc.html">In which I learn about the quarter-life cirsis</a></li>
<li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/06/to-cohabitate-or-to-not-cohabitate.html">In which I contemplate cohabitation</a></li>
<li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/06/step-away-from-pickle-cohabitating-obg.html">In which I outline my rules for successful cohabitation</a></li>
<li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/07/cub-scouts-are-judgy-motherfers.html">In which I'm reminded why I hate cub scouts</a></li>
<li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/08/please-dont-puke-in-porta-potty-aka.html">In which I decide I hate hippies</a></li>
<li><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/09/behind-music-anti-electrics.html">In which I tried to be a creative writer. Again. </a></li>
</ol><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Upon searching through my archives, I have concluded that I am neither a) funny, b) clever, nor c) interesting. Why do you people keep coming back here? </span></i>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-65181777239674944682010-12-30T08:20:00.000-05:002010-12-30T08:20:43.656-05:00Things are a brewin'! <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lJl0xDJmPkrHKr8P6dqT6s3r3DXmX1-VQXpp11iu1crcCkZIygGLdiDmzzwWTrlUlKWAuIttOHjvFTatpYT__BcFCK_Jb1wYLf1OMz7pk9j4YtB9ggb7y-Jwy26T8KJxdZBDjAWckjU/s1600/brewing-coffee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lJl0xDJmPkrHKr8P6dqT6s3r3DXmX1-VQXpp11iu1crcCkZIygGLdiDmzzwWTrlUlKWAuIttOHjvFTatpYT__BcFCK_Jb1wYLf1OMz7pk9j4YtB9ggb7y-Jwy26T8KJxdZBDjAWckjU/s1600/brewing-coffee.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.oncoffeemakers.com/free-coffee-course.html">Source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>SO PLEASE STAND BY</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Meanwhile, enjoy this re-post, previously "aired" <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/01/some-holiday-reflection.html">January 8, 2010</a>.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><h2 class="date-header"></h2><div class="date-posts"><div class="post-outer"><div class="post hentry"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=1664983486203309526" name="6916005151677489975"></a> <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><u><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Some holiday reflection</b></span></u></div><h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="text-align: justify;"> </h3><div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">The holiday season has come to an end and for the first time in many, many years, I'm sorry that it is over. Usually around mid-October I begin experiencing holiday related panic attacks, stress headaches and night sweats (alright, maybe not the night sweats, but you get the idea). After the holiday season of '08, however, I vowed to do things differently this year. I wanted a relatively relaxed, peaceful and stress-free holiday experience, and for the most part, I'm happy to report that I accomplished just that! So what was my magical solution? What mysterious remedy did I discover to banish holiday related stress? Well, <i>I didn't buy a single Christmas present this year.</i> Not one. And I didn't feel the least bit guilty over it.</span></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">As the years move on, and my immediate family gets older and continues to expand, the number of gift recipients keeps multiplying. I have four sisters and a brother and when you add in their significant others, their children, parents and step-parents... you can see how quickly things can get out of hand. This year I declared, NO MORE! Now, in the interest of full disclosure I must admit this decision wasn't entirely made as a result of my gift buying frustrations. It just so happens I'm in graduate school finishing up my thesis and trying to survive on the measly income I receive as a graduate assistant. In other words, I'm dead broke, which contributed significantly to my inability and unwillingness to purchase Christmas presents this year. I very well could have used my {gasp} credit cards to buy some holiday joy for my loved ones, but I didn't. (I am quite proud to say that I have 0 credit card debt, thank you very much) </span></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">In place of gifts I decided I would spend more time with my family and help them out with <i>their</i> holiday stress as much as I could. BEST. DECISION. EVER. I have never felt better about myself nor the holidays than I did after helping my mom wrap Christmas presents, or after staying with my sister for a week and helping her in any and every way she needed (she had three boys, all under the age of 5 and fueled up with Santa-fever, to manage), or after preparing an entirely homemade, from-scratch Christmas dinner for 12+ family members. Never has a last-minute, purchased gift, wrapped in over-priced paper made me feel as generous and giving as I did this year. I felt useful. I felt appreciated. Most importantly, I felt a renewed love and joy for my family that I haven't felt in years.</span></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Will I buy Christmas presents next year, when grad school will be over and I'll be (hopefully) employed full-time? I don't know. I <b>do</b> know that if I do, I will put more time and thought into my gifts rather than rush through the stores, carelessly checking people off my list. I <b>also</b> know that I'm going to take more time for my family and offer to help them out as much as I can.</span></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Happy New Year!</span></div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-87162874278338743532010-12-23T04:49:00.000-05:002010-12-23T04:49:30.754-05:00Phoning it inRemember when I told you (way back when) that the G-man had already purchased a Christmas present for me? Well, due to travel plans we had our Christmas last night, and it turns out that gift is a Kindle! I'm using it as we speak (so-to-speak). It comes with free 3G connection! It's not the greatest, nor the most convinient browser, but it's still pretty sweet!<br />
<br />
Hope you all have a great holiday season. Travel safely. We are headed to NY for a week today to see family I'm super psyched!Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-13154369298471986672010-12-18T06:51:00.000-05:002010-12-18T06:51:27.032-05:00Cloud 9 Just Deflated <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQBXhLvLqYh3qbxCpJOh7eBWhuOryakHRihXFb129LrY3DCNWHvpz8B0o7p3-MsaEXTP7egAHNROvB809G2b120ALcrjFjLa-DNY3WMLS8mrLWpG76L2dxZnPvhRUz6n5B-IR7j0BCN8/s1600/il_fullxfull.72074066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQBXhLvLqYh3qbxCpJOh7eBWhuOryakHRihXFb129LrY3DCNWHvpz8B0o7p3-MsaEXTP7egAHNROvB809G2b120ALcrjFjLa-DNY3WMLS8mrLWpG76L2dxZnPvhRUz6n5B-IR7j0BCN8/s200/il_fullxfull.72074066.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/25448048/happy-sad-cloud-with-blue-lining">chetanddot</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Remember that <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-only-crazy-when-im-unemployed.html">happiness high</a> I was on the other day when I was bragging about how happy I am right now? Yeah, well, it seems I've hit a little hiccup at the hands of a complete stranger while attending our neighborhood holiday party. In about 20 minutes or so (it's possible it only felt that long), he managed to crush any hope I had for a magical holiday season, and furthermore, a happy, secure and satisfying future. Thanks a lot, old man. I know you were probably trying to help, but I'm pretty sure you did more harm than good. In the future, keep your big mouth shut and your opinions to yourself (which is pretty much good advice for everyone).</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">p.s. Only 30 shopping days left until the greatest day of the year... MY BIRTHDAY (and <a href="http://krissysue2.blogspot.com/">Twin's</a> too, of course)! Wondering what to get me? Well, don't you worry, I'll be putting out a wish list soon enough. I just have to get through this Christmas chaos first.</div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-44413836364498059262010-12-13T06:52:00.000-05:002010-12-13T06:52:00.805-05:00I'm Only Crazy When I'm Unemployed<div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">And apparently I can only think of things to write about when I'm a) crazy b) depressed or c) bored out of my mind. At the moment, I am none of these things. I'm in the worst predicament ever. I'm, dare I say it, happy. I know, it's awful, it's horrible, the world may end tomorrow. I'm happy, and I really have nothing going on in my life to complain about. Life is good. But who wants to hear about all that touchy-feely, happy-schmappy, ooey-gooey stuff? People want tragedy, that want controversy, they want fart jokes, reality TV and grotesque disfigurements. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And on top of all these blasted good feelings, I've got no time. Absolutely no time to blog. Well, hardly any time at any rate. What's a girl to do? Thankfully the new job has provided me with material for <a href="http://artteachershateglitter.blogspot.com/">Art Teachers Hate Glitter</a>, where I write about the <i>truth</i>, albeit a humorous truth, about the ins and outs of being an elementary art teacher. If that sort of thing interests you (and I understand it only appeals to a limited audience), be sure to pop over there and check it out.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Until I find myself with some more time on my hands, you can continue to expect sporadic and irrelevant posts. Thanks for sticking it out with me through these hard and trying times. Now excuse me while I go an wallow in my happiness.</div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-9810094297600582412010-12-12T10:13:00.000-05:002010-12-12T10:13:00.206-05:00Sunday Confessions: #9-10<center><a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/" target="_blank" title="One Blonde Girl"><img alt="BLOG TITLE" height="199" src="http://i551.photobucket.com/albums/ii478/weberhewko/SundayConfessions.jpg" width="320" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Come forward and step into my confessional booth </div><div style="text-align: center;">where <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/search/label/Sunday%20Confessions">all our dirty little secrets</a> can be shared.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b> Sunday Confessions</b>:</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i> </i></div><b>#9-</b> I hate off-brand chocolate. Blech. Hate it. And don't even get me started on off-brand peanut butter cups.<br />
<br />
<b>#10-</b> I believe in the magic of Christmas. And every year I go into the holiday season waiting, expecting, to feel that magic. Sometimes it comes, but mostly Christmas is just a big let down what with all the crazy traveling and pressure of gift giving. One of these years I know that the magical feeling will last the entire holiday season (you know, like when we were kids?). I'm hopeful.Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-8020626726016185942010-12-11T09:21:00.000-05:002010-12-11T09:21:00.496-05:00I ♥ Etsy! Robots. The new zombies? <br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Maybe it's just me, but robots seem to be <i>everywhere</i> lately. Are they the <i>new</i> zombies. Again, maybe it's just me.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs7CpPcLoP5SQqbvk_aGOELyvWcgpIlN7CalatngTGg4mSktOYx47anDxisFXtiB2iyel2R1aM-ARpC79scci7LDAPOFqmrCHj3vVqnEKKVjm7xLc4cfoK19VCMjaxJe5gJnSP4CH4Tlo/s1600/il_570xN.114241591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs7CpPcLoP5SQqbvk_aGOELyvWcgpIlN7CalatngTGg4mSktOYx47anDxisFXtiB2iyel2R1aM-ARpC79scci7LDAPOFqmrCHj3vVqnEKKVjm7xLc4cfoK19VCMjaxJe5gJnSP4CH4Tlo/s320/il_570xN.114241591.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPFu_GAxJ3mrxvAcjU1TrGXmI2hMk2quunTDPZfgT6CAzugWwmX5PqGXq4bozKRLgvYBWHFCWDSG7fRDf_wmWzOBlWDD3IsI7gEiXOB1zk-6erCEPd5ljWNCpviwwQM78z6e4a9jHxvZs/s1600/il_570xN.116613112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPFu_GAxJ3mrxvAcjU1TrGXmI2hMk2quunTDPZfgT6CAzugWwmX5PqGXq4bozKRLgvYBWHFCWDSG7fRDf_wmWzOBlWDD3IsI7gEiXOB1zk-6erCEPd5ljWNCpviwwQM78z6e4a9jHxvZs/s320/il_570xN.116613112.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">( via <a class="username" href="http://www.etsy.com/people/diskgrunt?ref=ls_profile">diskgrunt</a> and <a class="username" href="http://www.etsy.com/people/happyfamily?ref=ls_profile">happyfamily</a>)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia9MoNmHS482OYjvGWRAzkdq2D1V6AQZA76-RMw9FVhj8hu0FJZ1ckJPcwCNkslA_F1uFvjhz3OMrlbhyphenhyphenisrWmB6U-WXUb4q9_EpvNrSvhashngrzNnTV8s_QoIcMF_BY1auIdtb6VkLc/s1600/il_570xN.167258143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia9MoNmHS482OYjvGWRAzkdq2D1V6AQZA76-RMw9FVhj8hu0FJZ1ckJPcwCNkslA_F1uFvjhz3OMrlbhyphenhyphenisrWmB6U-WXUb4q9_EpvNrSvhashngrzNnTV8s_QoIcMF_BY1auIdtb6VkLc/s320/il_570xN.167258143.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTPsQk7Etrh65w6dCLHCvut_fPcQGVH9ORvsZGUmwvcabSz3G5GmpxPFvl1xG8qct4t2UsftEwK8tBelr8MqH5m-cGirKkTcLjySH3XXKfUmVM8rWUcYpdejDK3d1Sxfovh_cqfum5fEo/s1600/il_570xN.195616274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTPsQk7Etrh65w6dCLHCvut_fPcQGVH9ORvsZGUmwvcabSz3G5GmpxPFvl1xG8qct4t2UsftEwK8tBelr8MqH5m-cGirKkTcLjySH3XXKfUmVM8rWUcYpdejDK3d1Sxfovh_cqfum5fEo/s320/il_570xN.195616274.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(via <a class="username" href="http://www.etsy.com/people/mengseldesign?ref=ls_profile">mengseldesign</a> and <a class="username" href="http://www.etsy.com/people/crumpettimecomics?ref=ls_profile">crumpettimecomics</a>)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGzGA5Pgzt2VRp7957uOItKSz1DngVrRg6sbRCLjpxUBCTirhds7rWD2ZTCLjNaqOykG0r6L82AggVrtIOHYmeyETCn_G-Vox8-ncRiEg4x-HTCCF6adMxWi9ZMZ5t5nYFEheMDMK6hpI/s1600/il_570xN.198062333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGzGA5Pgzt2VRp7957uOItKSz1DngVrRg6sbRCLjpxUBCTirhds7rWD2ZTCLjNaqOykG0r6L82AggVrtIOHYmeyETCn_G-Vox8-ncRiEg4x-HTCCF6adMxWi9ZMZ5t5nYFEheMDMK6hpI/s320/il_570xN.198062333.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkZ4UxUo7Sv0kUXatRR3qNZTaYSitYk5IxEqQyscqrn_hbermfweBjJ20LAzBYGTJR0phXxH19ctbeLL7jXTAJIavn3WrL9-OEV9iYb66dncSAv2oXSCPder9FFfS4VaSoiYrPrZy1KyM/s1600/il_570xN.200077786.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkZ4UxUo7Sv0kUXatRR3qNZTaYSitYk5IxEqQyscqrn_hbermfweBjJ20LAzBYGTJR0phXxH19ctbeLL7jXTAJIavn3WrL9-OEV9iYb66dncSAv2oXSCPder9FFfS4VaSoiYrPrZy1KyM/s320/il_570xN.200077786.jpg" width="160" /></a><br />
(via <a class="username" href="http://www.etsy.com/people/YeeHaw?ref=ls_profile">YeeHaw</a> and <a class="username" href="http://www.etsy.com/people/youneekusername?ref=ls_profile">youneekusername</a>)</div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">If you enjoyed this edition of <a href="http://oneblondegirl.blogspot.com/search/label/etsy">I ♥ Etsy!</a>, be sure to check out some others!</div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1664983486203309526.post-62224640400876515912010-12-08T08:30:00.001-05:002010-12-08T08:30:00.610-05:00Wordless Wednesday<div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMUEcvc43nYQbyBvx7Bm2sUL98MQxTBB8SuSSU8IfgCOSMwSLnW21XU3bz7ddJEPetrPPPKkl6mHTAkCkWJRvY2N2U2RoZnCWqqb32CAMb6DECJpZ6c-TlWJcgA1_vLdf6KiAYNdJhyphenhyphens/s1600/DSCN3081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMUEcvc43nYQbyBvx7Bm2sUL98MQxTBB8SuSSU8IfgCOSMwSLnW21XU3bz7ddJEPetrPPPKkl6mHTAkCkWJRvY2N2U2RoZnCWqqb32CAMb6DECJpZ6c-TlWJcgA1_vLdf6KiAYNdJhyphenhyphens/s400/DSCN3081.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ummm... this freak anyone else out?</div>Aprilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429718256691772971noreply@blogger.com2