tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89456813638714847642024-03-13T01:13:39.098-04:00It's Jenny TimeThanks for stopping by!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1731125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-9360165872167878732018-05-21T11:12:00.001-04:002018-05-21T11:12:10.200-04:00Royal Wedding!If you've followed my blog for any amount of time, you know I love a good royal wedding! Having been an admirer of Princess Diana when I was a little girl (waking up before dawn to watch her wedding), I've continued to love Princes William and Harry and watch their lives unfold. So you can only imagine how happy I was to see Harry happily married on Saturday morning. I think Meghan Markle is fabulous and that they're a perfect match, so clearly in love.<br />
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Here are a few pictures I took of the family after the ceremony (I'm so grateful they asked me to be a part of their special day in this way)...If only. :)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3cvbZR1zyzmP0kBNOJm4us3TqWAuHXbLppPtmr3b4-gDEJWjRv2IjWLLhueMkIXnvqrVkj4g-3y98hd_-SMxmRwPdXSOaQQGBgG3IRYsRrEWFv40KuoRAms2D1SpHYHi4p7h1yXm63o/s1600/image-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7a3xjy1F_v9WClr1q3IWPAYdLWYM6XTZ8HETiqQMjJ3WQ_ulP0z9Mh_iC1mwnt2RUmldFDLTAMTNDhqfvgZp2xjUMucjDw2jZjo5mC_4ItQKVhyphenhyphen3tgmnwPohctgXuBwZuuGb9GUBatko/s1600/image.jpeg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7a3xjy1F_v9WClr1q3IWPAYdLWYM6XTZ8HETiqQMjJ3WQ_ulP0z9Mh_iC1mwnt2RUmldFDLTAMTNDhqfvgZp2xjUMucjDw2jZjo5mC_4ItQKVhyphenhyphen3tgmnwPohctgXuBwZuuGb9GUBatko/s640/image.jpeg" width="640" /></a><br />
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I love the little kids cheesing it up in this pic!<br />
<img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3cvbZR1zyzmP0kBNOJm4us3TqWAuHXbLppPtmr3b4-gDEJWjRv2IjWLLhueMkIXnvqrVkj4g-3y98hd_-SMxmRwPdXSOaQQGBgG3IRYsRrEWFv40KuoRAms2D1SpHYHi4p7h1yXm63o/s640/image-1.jpeg" width="640" /><br />
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I simply cannot with these two. They're crazy gorgeous and I love everything about them. I LOVED her dress and hair and veil and flowers and...(you get it). Harry looked incredible. I loved the ceremony, the gosple choir, the guest minister. I love how it was held at Windsor, not in London (if you've never been, Windsor is this quaint village with an ancient castle outside of London and it is the most charming place ever). It was just perfect.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq4RCA3Is1n_002Ubn8h5bvoUjHCW44gR9-c1L2N9uqxLVILuE77HgXTZkt_Pa4jEIkbkKdqu3shwBtyBqsmL4uOMGwt4KXKZRfqPABMsy4L3xrXLavKzngH9SwS4yOOmOjmlMzwDSRPI/s1600/image-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq4RCA3Is1n_002Ubn8h5bvoUjHCW44gR9-c1L2N9uqxLVILuE77HgXTZkt_Pa4jEIkbkKdqu3shwBtyBqsmL4uOMGwt4KXKZRfqPABMsy4L3xrXLavKzngH9SwS4yOOmOjmlMzwDSRPI/s640/image-2.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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And don't get me started on the reception dress...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIrtETSfoymVUBYD4iOL05VIZAUCqRVqYndNfnQhR0RkINHq0JioRALHIh-Fa8JNBcPwcQPOIexnYTtgEWSqkm4duHTmMjuJMreewN3u9HtFN-i4KU7gduqITjv8_Teo7waK-DXWUO50/s1600/hbz-meghan-markle-wedding-gown1-1526755713.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIrtETSfoymVUBYD4iOL05VIZAUCqRVqYndNfnQhR0RkINHq0JioRALHIh-Fa8JNBcPwcQPOIexnYTtgEWSqkm4duHTmMjuJMreewN3u9HtFN-i4KU7gduqITjv8_Teo7waK-DXWUO50/s640/hbz-meghan-markle-wedding-gown1-1526755713.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Here's to happily ever after! :)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3oWGgLMoHgHMHnk715VsDcKvX-UuLlr9mGxcxD5RSdYUPSnG4Rp32tTz_WpL6sXMWExbqA1zafiDr7xTn1uheyNBFW5Wvpab6nNgXQbddXT_zJyd_zTAyEN7Jwi6HLX85zRNK99Mfxz0/s1600/prince-harry-kiss-meghan-1526745695.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="488" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3oWGgLMoHgHMHnk715VsDcKvX-UuLlr9mGxcxD5RSdYUPSnG4Rp32tTz_WpL6sXMWExbqA1zafiDr7xTn1uheyNBFW5Wvpab6nNgXQbddXT_zJyd_zTAyEN7Jwi6HLX85zRNK99Mfxz0/s640/prince-harry-kiss-meghan-1526745695.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-23364224520442967572018-05-17T20:13:00.000-04:002018-05-17T20:13:02.395-04:00I'm a nerd.<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWNeyFla-ffXAGrwZHWYHoyEhGYLsuvmKvwaZ-HGMi6uT7N_vlJCzj3eu-9fnf8Y7ocS1Wma1XzD5tr9Hbl8RMv5MXm2gtKQYm_zRvVTYMYlJv3SoPANLCpbBmY9olTKKVNaLE8hwM2jA/s1600/PicTapGo-Image.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWNeyFla-ffXAGrwZHWYHoyEhGYLsuvmKvwaZ-HGMi6uT7N_vlJCzj3eu-9fnf8Y7ocS1Wma1XzD5tr9Hbl8RMv5MXm2gtKQYm_zRvVTYMYlJv3SoPANLCpbBmY9olTKKVNaLE8hwM2jA/s400/PicTapGo-Image.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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I purchased a bag I didn't need so I could get this little pouch that came with it. Why? I didn't need the tote it was attached to, I have a very nice tote I use most days. I didn't need the poutch either. It was because of the handwriting on the pouch. I am a total handwriting nerd.</div>
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My friend received a wedding invitation that was beautiful. Deep colors, hand calligraphy (but not traditional calligraphy, more modern and edgy), witty and clever. And the envelope? Forget it. Antique stamps that matched the color scheme of the invitations. I kept it. It wasn't even a wedding I was invited to. I am a total paper product nerd.</div>
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Net net, I'm a nerd. I love paper and office supplies and pretty handwriting and stamps and scrapbook supplies and planners. I subscribe to 900 magazines and I'm forever ripping out pictures that inspire me and I save them in little bins.</div>
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I'm obsessed with beautiful bedding and have more bedsheets and comforters than any one human should ever own in a lifetime. I totally geek out over my bed when I change my sheets each week.</div>
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But I don't care. I love it. I love it all.</div>
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What makes you nerd out? I'd love to hear!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-40712686487787522242018-05-06T23:21:00.001-04:002018-05-06T23:21:08.348-04:00Sunday, Sunday...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: left;">This was a good weekend. Busy, sunny, warm (finally) and spent with friends. </span></div>
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But Sundays...Sundays always ruin the weekend for me. I have specific things I do on Sundays. I change my sheets, dust and vacuum, start my laundry for the week. I actually enjoy doing those things. Knowing I'll be starting my week with clean sheets and a tidy house makes me happy.<br />
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And then I have reports I have to write that are due on Monday. I could write them Monday morning before my 1pm meeting when I present the reports, but that just makes me dread Monday morning. So I usually write them Sunday night while in bed.<br />
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But THAT makes me dread going to bed Sunday night. It actually makes me feel tired when I wake up thinking about these reports. No bueno.<br />
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So today, after I attended a party, ran a few errands and had a beer on the porch of a good friend, I went home. It was about 4pm. I wrote the report. And I. Felt. So. Good. So good that I started cleaning and taking care of things around the house. I didn't feel that dreaded Sunday night feeling I feel every Sunday.<br />
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So lesson learned. Just do it. Get it done and move on and enjoy your life. Stop giving the things you don't want to do power (I'm looking at you 'cleaning the attic'). Just do it and get on with it. I'm so glad I did!<br />
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P.S. These aren't difficult or particularly time consuming reports. It's just the act of having to do them that makes me anxious. Go figure.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-28864103285693197302018-05-05T21:09:00.002-04:002018-05-05T21:09:46.791-04:00Need a Good Read?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am a bookworm. I tear through books and devour them like cake. I decided that I wanted to keep track of what I was reading this year, so I've been making a list of everything I read. I just started my 17th book of the year, and I thought I'd share what I've like, and what has been just meh.<br />
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I'm a lover of historical fiction and mystery/thriller/twisty-turny books, so my list certainly reflects that. I also joined Book of the Month Club last year, and I love it in that I get books when they're first released for WAY less than I'd pay (even with a Barnes & Noble Membership), and I get to chose books that I maybe wouldn't have chosen because I wasn't exposed to them.<br />
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So here's the list...<br />
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<i>Fear Nothing </i>(Lisa Gardner) - Typical grisly murder mystery. Too long, could have been much shorter, but not bad.<br />
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<i>A Conspiracy in Belgravia </i>(Sherry Thomas)- Sherlock Holmes, but with his sister Charlotte being the real Holmes. I loved this book for the mystery and different take on a classic).<br />
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<i>The English Wife </i>(Lauren Willig) - A twisty book set in the last 19th century NY and London.<br />
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<i>As Bright As Heaven</i> (Susan Meissner)- Loved this one. Spanish Fever in Philadelphia and how it impacted families of all classes. Full of imagery, really good.<br />
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<i>A Study in Scarlet Women </i>(Sherry Thomas) - Another Charlotte Holmes book.<br />
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<i>The Perfect Nanny </i>(Leila Slimani) - Good by creepy. The opening line is "The baby is dead." Yeah.<br />
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<i>Behind Her Eyes</i> (Sarah Pinborough)- This one was ok, not great. It took too long to get to the crux of the story and by that point I was sort of bored.<br />
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<i>Stolen Beauty</i> (Laurie Lico Albanese)- This was a great historical piece, set in the time of Gustav Klimt, focusing on one of his muses.<br />
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<i>The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo</i> - Good book, short chapters with several characters. <br />
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<i>The Break Down</i> (B.A. Paris)- This is another book by the author of B<i>ehind Closed Doors</i> (which I loved). This one was good, but not as good. The main character sort of annoyed me, which made it hard for me to care.<br />
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<i>The People We Hate at the Wedding </i>(Grant Ginder) - Good, light read. I liked some of the characters, others I didn't. But overall, good.<br />
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<i>Other People's Houses</i> (Abbi Waxman) - Meh. Too many characters, too thinly drawn. Wouldn't recommend.<br />
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<i>Marie Antoinette</i> (Antonia Fraser) - Rich, comprehensive, non-fiction read about the life of Marie Antoinette. This is the second time I've read this book twice and despite it's over 500 pages of text, I know I'll read it again. It's just that good.<br />
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<i>Madame de Pompadour </i>(Christine Pevitt Algrant) - Nowhere NEAR as detailed or nuanced as Antonia Fraser's book (above). Took me awhile to get through.<br />
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<i>Secrets She Kept </i>(Cathy Gohlke) - Well written WWII fiction. Flash backs and great characters. Loved it.<br />
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<i>Then She Was Gone </i>(Lisa Jewell) - I tore through this book in less than a day. I think I had it figured out pretty quickly, but it was still very good and I wasn't 100% right (but verrrry close!)<br />
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<i>The Perfect Mother </i>(Aimee Molly)- So far, so good.<br />
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So tell me (if you got through all of that!!!), what are <u><b><i>you</i></b></u> reading?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-62617124381948703882018-04-27T14:47:00.001-04:002018-04-27T14:48:30.626-04:0020 Questions<div style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 1.6em;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;"><span style="color: #666666;">What’s your Favorite Book?</span></strong><span style="color: #666666;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosnay</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">Do you have any nicknames?</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My nieces and nephew and favorite littles call me 'Nenna' (created when Jack was teeny and couldn't say 'Jenny'). My friend Jill calls me 'J' (I call her 'J' as well).</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">What’s your most embarrassing childhood memory?</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(73, 87, 98);">My friend brought a pair of my tiny undies into school in 3rd grade that I left there after a sleepover because she was upset I brought in a Barbie she left at my house. I didn't think anything of it because we were Barbie fanatics, but it embarrassed her and she retaliated. </span></span></div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever been?</strong><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This is difficult as I've been lucky enough to travel the world and I've seen so many beautiful places. But I'd have to say, based on beauty and charm, Strasbourg, France.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Are you named after anyone?</b> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My great-grandmother, Jeanette Olive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit;"><span style="color: #495762;">If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?</span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit;">My tendency to overthink things and worry. So unproductive.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit;"><span style="color: #495762;">I</span><span style="color: #666666;">f you could ask your pet 3 questions, what would they be?</span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(73, 87, 98);">Why do you bark so much? Which of us is your favorite (even though I know it's me)? Why can you not master the 'drop it' command? We cannot play catch if you don't drop it. </span></span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit;">When you’re having a bad day, what do you do to make yourself feel better?</span> </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #bf9000;">Spend time with friends and wine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">Coffee or tea?</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Coffee. Iced.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Who is the kindest person you know?</span></strong><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">There are two. Chris and Dave. And they are the best.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Favorite meal?</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(73, 87, 98);">Bella Napoli Ham Sub with mayo and oil, chips and a Pepsi.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">What's the biggest item on your to do list right now?</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm calling this a singular item, because in my head it is. Cleaning and organizing the attic and laundry room (even though they're two completely separate rooms).</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">How many countries have you visited?</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(73, 87, 98);">Not at many as I'd like, but a lot. Let's see...France, UK, Italy, Germany, Czech Republic, Belgium, The Netherlands, Spain, India, Japan, Singapore, Malaysia, Bahamas, Switzerland, Austria, Canada, UAE, </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be?</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My next stop is Budapest, so let's say that!</span></div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: inherit;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you could shop for free at one store, which would you choose?</span></strong></div>
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<span style="box-sizing: inherit;"><span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(73, 87, 98);">Gah! I want to say Anthropologie because I love it so, but I think I have to say Target.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?</strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had no idea and still kind of don't. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">What’s your favourite day of the week?</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Friday.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">Are you usually early or late?</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Early.</span></div>
<div style="box-sizing: inherit; margin-bottom: 1.6em;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">What’s the one food you could never bring yourself to eat?</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Octopus. For me it's a texture thing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong style="box-sizing: inherit;">What’s your pet peeve?</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Clutter.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-29305549171801937082018-04-16T11:30:00.001-04:002018-04-16T11:30:09.652-04:00So it's decided...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm going to blog again. I just realized how much I love writing, and I'm just not a paper journal kind of girl anymore. Writing makes my hand tired. #kidding #totallynotkidding</div>
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So check back this week for a post where I answer 20 questions...about myself! :)<br />
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And because a post is not a post without a picture...<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/AVvXsEjKe0oX9b_rGYnFRgpRspBi-c_AbZQtDqwciLrtW6fVpcU4BCPy82NnQbOkoSw2_y1Mk8Ww4KinhzMG5X8B8qgbsMq3is6qhFuTVjdKeKgPiqLOuLIer57IDXhnXaoXfIhIshNL-PDrQEc/s1600/IMG_4738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKe0oX9b_rGYnFRgpRspBi-c_AbZQtDqwciLrtW6fVpcU4BCPy82NnQbOkoSw2_y1Mk8Ww4KinhzMG5X8B8qgbsMq3is6qhFuTVjdKeKgPiqLOuLIer57IDXhnXaoXfIhIshNL-PDrQEc/s640/IMG_4738.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, back in the day...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-84054520397323715362018-03-17T23:33:00.001-04:002018-03-17T23:33:15.228-04:00I think I’m coming back...I miss writing. And I miss sharing the ridiculous and insignificant pieces of my life. So watch this space, and don’t call it a come back. :-)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-27165027084576819752016-08-21T21:05:00.001-04:002016-08-21T21:05:58.814-04:00I miss this blog.It's been over a year since I've blogged. <br />
<br />
That actually makes me sort of sad.<br />
<br />
I used to LOVE this blog. I couldn't wait to post. And then it became stressful.<br />
<br />
And now I just Instagram mainly. I really don't Facebook. I don't Snapchat (except to play with the filters). I don't Vine or Tweet or anything other than IG really.<br />
<br />
But I do miss this blog.<br />
<br />
I know blogs are becoming a thing of the past, but maybe I'll pop in here now and then (more than once a year at least!) to update my little online journal, if for no one else than myself. I started blogging about 10 years ago, around the time my dad was terminally ill. It was a way for me to express all of the feelings (oh the feelings) I had about losing my dad. I was so scared, so full of hope that he could beat his cancer, so sad, so hopeless. So everything.<br />
<br />
And through the years I've documented so many goods and bads. I'd hate to just stop. So let's see where this goes, shall we?<br />
<br />
Even if that 'we' is just 'me'.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-20319761722102776122015-08-15T23:53:00.001-04:002015-08-15T23:53:36.244-04:00Must. Keep. Blogging.I need to get back into the swing of blogging. I miss it. I don't care if anyone even reads it. I could have 1 follower, and that follower could be me for all I care. I just need to write again.<br />
<br />
It's so off my radar though, this blogging thing. It used to be a daily thing I did. And then it became this daily thing I <i>had</i> to do. I hated that I felt obligated to blog. Especially when I had nothing to say. Especially especially because no one was forcing me to do it!<br />
<br />
I could have an actual tag for posts like this. You know, the ones where I bitch about how I want to blog again.<br />
<br />
Time do just do kid...time to just do.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-46522048661015311882015-06-29T17:16:00.001-04:002015-06-29T17:16:16.833-04:00Wallpaper is NOT old fashioned...So I have the smallest vestibule known to mankind. It actually doesn't even qualify as a vestibule, let's be honest. It's a teeny tiny space that you walk into when you enter the house, and the living room is BAM! right there.<br />
<br />
I've been toying (for the past 5 years) with what I should do with the space. I've finally decided on wallpaper. I know. Wallpaper? Ew. But it's not mauve with country blue gingham and there is no border happening. This is the wallpaper:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJXpk7EyJYcCoBPlKXNC1Eff_8aTEKK0hsHgWG7_idZd3ekCtCwWCXqJxSQn2flesIfhRYIjBUx-q6lL3DgXNf99Frm3laGkdBQargpJODZ6HP8me70KCoBtXer43DbInQgGwuPPbzrw/s1600/620a2f56a679a6d8a4b5deb82d4c7811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJXpk7EyJYcCoBPlKXNC1Eff_8aTEKK0hsHgWG7_idZd3ekCtCwWCXqJxSQn2flesIfhRYIjBUx-q6lL3DgXNf99Frm3laGkdBQargpJODZ6HP8me70KCoBtXer43DbInQgGwuPPbzrw/s640/620a2f56a679a6d8a4b5deb82d4c7811.jpg" width="448" /></a></div>
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It may look all animal print-y, and I can see that (especially since it's from Thibaut's Tanzania line). But up on a wall it takes on an interesting neutral space. Like this!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCfLg7gQfGL0PB-76WORwBe7q7jlF3ldhxrT88bc1FZmx2o-GiyJ8zcvH6hXII-AegN4Q4zBbHsC62TIZaiIKQo0dVNzJpSL9Ow4URYE4uuA00bAU0KoScA9THwmCvCek3rjs6ESE4gaM/s1600/IMG_5946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCfLg7gQfGL0PB-76WORwBe7q7jlF3ldhxrT88bc1FZmx2o-GiyJ8zcvH6hXII-AegN4Q4zBbHsC62TIZaiIKQo0dVNzJpSL9Ow4URYE4uuA00bAU0KoScA9THwmCvCek3rjs6ESE4gaM/s640/IMG_5946.jpg" width="362" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I've had this on my computer for so long I have no idea where I found it. Forgive me for the photo credit faux pas!!</span></div>
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So the wallpaper was ordered today and should be here within two weeks. I. Am. So. Excited. Perhaps a little too excited. Whatevs, right?</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-22555567947878328302015-06-26T11:29:00.004-04:002015-06-26T11:29:59.781-04:00It's About Time...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg611xVGIwWaMmFlrMYgo9NyZnnRydad6U8ZQYuILgrtve9_LsrjCetGAWs7hLaLvPRX0KOQWXMJJkj6Qx1dwkwkHu3e8vdQmHn-pAefnPe4v-PVEX5p4CzKSbD8crKX25tf4o5U1vUwfo/s1600/11229549_10153564889214238_5139842835188453914_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg611xVGIwWaMmFlrMYgo9NyZnnRydad6U8ZQYuILgrtve9_LsrjCetGAWs7hLaLvPRX0KOQWXMJJkj6Qx1dwkwkHu3e8vdQmHn-pAefnPe4v-PVEX5p4CzKSbD8crKX25tf4o5U1vUwfo/s640/11229549_10153564889214238_5139842835188453914_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
I still have to shake my head sometimes that it took this country this long to recognize the rights of the LGBT community. But we're finally here. Congratulations to all of my LGBT friends. Your wait to be recognized as a HUMAN has been a long one, and sadly there are still some that won't feel that you deserve the same rights as heterosexuals (because we're so superior??), but that, quite frankly, is their problem. So go get your marriage on. Huzzah!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-82429434488520224132015-06-22T14:03:00.003-04:002015-06-22T14:03:28.045-04:00Toying with the idea...I thought of this poor blog the other day. I think after 6 months it can officially be considered abandoned. But I miss it! Well, I miss it sometimes. I have to figure out what to do with this space because I love writing (when I have something to say). It's the pressure of having something unique to post every day, or every week for that matter. <br />
<br />
I'm going to monkey around on here for a bit and we'll see what comes of it. It may go to blog heaven, it may stick around for awhile.<br />
<br />
We shall see. But in the meantime, thanks for checking in from time to time. I wouldn't blame you if you wandered away too!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-84072692697520663132014-12-04T18:18:00.002-05:002014-12-04T18:18:47.627-05:00Make that two posts in one month...Clearly I'm on a roll...<br />
<br />
I just had to post to toot my own horn. Totally not my style, at all, so perhaps a little history will help. I've been participating in the <a href="http://fatmumslim.com.au/how-to-play/" target="_blank">Fat Mum Slim Photo a Day Challenge</a> since March of 2012. Yeah. Like over 2 years. So every day, for the past 32 months, I've been following the prompts and taking pictures (sometimes missing a day, but always taking that pic and posting it).<br />
<br />
So after 960 photos (give or take), one of my photos was selected as part of the Fab Four! The Fab Four is basically were Chantelle, the creator of Fat Mum Slim, selects 4 interesting photos using that day's prompt.<br />
<br />
Woot! I'm the balloon pic (the prompt was Pop!)! So yay me. I feel sort of proud and a little happier than I should given the situation. But still. Yay me! :)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZH3vxcJOXoq_qmlhDsFFpUMvo1YuUiqF3TBFKXFQ4axV7S9ZyVpNtWXV_FReoO7yCEvqXlPiTF_UXc46E2vckVGdQY12we_MYBUxB28IQN-PBMU3ghS5FZJ_vz-kq434rqGeehFJhvyU/s1600/IMG_9169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZH3vxcJOXoq_qmlhDsFFpUMvo1YuUiqF3TBFKXFQ4axV7S9ZyVpNtWXV_FReoO7yCEvqXlPiTF_UXc46E2vckVGdQY12we_MYBUxB28IQN-PBMU3ghS5FZJ_vz-kq434rqGeehFJhvyU/s1600/IMG_9169.JPG" height="640" width="360" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-51593979300919116212014-12-03T19:08:00.002-05:002014-12-03T19:08:51.177-05:00One post a month...I guess that's what I'm going for lately?<br />
<br />
Anyway, while there are a million more important things going on in the world, I feel the need to post a pet peeve that freaks me out.<br />
<br />
So let's say I'm on a website buying a Christmas gift for someone. And then I go on another site, but I don't buy something. It freaks me out when I go onto Facebook and the exact two things I was looking for or purchased are now all over the site. OR they're on a blog I'm reading (one that takes sponsors or banners). Somehow (hmmmm) the interwebs know what I want. And harass me via various online means.<br />
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That's just icky. Icky, Icky, Ick.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-49498904102848937702014-10-31T19:13:00.003-04:002014-10-31T19:13:37.335-04:00Smitty...As I sit here, dishing out candy to cute little kiddos, wearing some sweet Day of the Dead face tattoo art, I thought I'd drop a line about my dad on my long neglected blargh. (Over a month Jen, really?)<br />
<br />
I miss it though. The blogging. I think I needed the break. And now I'm back (?). Ish. Who knows.<br />
Anyway, this is about my dad.<br />
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My dad passed away on Halloween 8 years ago. Eight years. Impossible. But so real.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcSuVjxp9xaFiP1ZYtpx0sVLlwv55l13yt3borH5_9ikxO_G_Okzu7BY3h5xnfKG8e01sa4SthM3gtDMmt3imU4bGrl32jwHvSSR62WVXGw-pnFNSY26ZeS80lY3cuSI9X7lX7B7uumho/s1600/jen+and+dad+little+kid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcSuVjxp9xaFiP1ZYtpx0sVLlwv55l13yt3borH5_9ikxO_G_Okzu7BY3h5xnfKG8e01sa4SthM3gtDMmt3imU4bGrl32jwHvSSR62WVXGw-pnFNSY26ZeS80lY3cuSI9X7lX7B7uumho/s1600/jen+and+dad+little+kid.jpg" height="390" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Dad with the lamb chops and me with the curly piggies...</span></div>
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I wish you could have known him (and if you did know him, how awesome was he?!?!). He was smart as a whip, funny, stubborn, loving and just plain awesome. So loyal. Not a man of many words, but if he loved you, you knew it. You just knew.<br />
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Oh dad, I miss you. A lot. I have a big old bag of black licorice here in honor of you (that no one seems to be choosing...maybe because it's disgusting?) and a smile on my face as I know you're having a grand old time up there in heaven. Say hi to everyone for me and behave.<br />
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I love you. Always have. Always will.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-19647343136712433072014-09-25T14:25:00.003-04:002014-09-25T14:25:35.331-04:00Post Crush...I loved this post. As in, I got it 100%, fell in love with it and I'm now going to marry it.<br />
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<a href="http://cayleegrey.com/2014/09/im-letting-go/" target="_blank">Caylee Grey - I'm Letting Go</a><br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-39020033950072859572014-09-12T05:00:00.000-04:002014-09-12T05:00:02.409-04:00The Diary of Anne Frank...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Who, as a young girl, didn't become obsessed with Anne Frank? I know I did. When I first read her book in 7th grade I simply could not believe that this was real. That a girl and her family were forced to hide in their own town. And then to learn that Anne was killed in Bergen Belsen nearly crushed me. I was <em>sure</em> she'd survive. How else could they have published her diary? Sadly, as I grew, I learned more and more about the atrocities commited during WWII.</div>
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While searching around Netflix the other day for new things to watch, a new version of <em>The Diary of Anne Frank</em> movie popped up. I fell in love with this story all over again. The actress who plays Anne is perfection. Exactly as I pictured her to be. Check it out. You won't regret it, I promise.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnd5UG4rDZz2wVftGWUTTnZIemRN_XAfElV44W_CwSQansf6E0MxRqpcxJNoXiw2784hjC7jYqXCCntwIg17qyTDpV27rF6jtjdnuBkwxKcd4SU_aTYM2tCH3YPx9l8FFm7dAP-XPuu1o/s1600/IMG_5244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnd5UG4rDZz2wVftGWUTTnZIemRN_XAfElV44W_CwSQansf6E0MxRqpcxJNoXiw2784hjC7jYqXCCntwIg17qyTDpV27rF6jtjdnuBkwxKcd4SU_aTYM2tCH3YPx9l8FFm7dAP-XPuu1o/s1600/IMG_5244.JPG" height="384" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-62100842237519963212014-09-11T10:00:00.000-04:002014-09-11T10:00:02.144-04:00Never Forget...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmBu2THJ4bpcFS3XZY0EFLnOlwew1atiGTGVJS49UyEKkSWteERgonSEjkIuYjq-A2hjeaOeYT-MHIKsf3CKE5dMryw8aHIFpDg0ifVdjS_cGFP23h9LbGCEuenNRizt9j0hFE5r1q-h8/s1600/AP01090105647_232923.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmBu2THJ4bpcFS3XZY0EFLnOlwew1atiGTGVJS49UyEKkSWteERgonSEjkIuYjq-A2hjeaOeYT-MHIKsf3CKE5dMryw8aHIFpDg0ifVdjS_cGFP23h9LbGCEuenNRizt9j0hFE5r1q-h8/s1600/AP01090105647_232923.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
I think we all remember where we were. I lived in Albany at the time and, being only 2 hours away from NYC, we felt like we might be next. Of course the day was full of mis-information, and unfortunately all too accurate information. I fell asleep that night to the sound of helicopters flying overhead and CNN's constant news coverage. The days and weeks that followed were surreal and sad and scary. Even now, 13 years later, as I visit clients in Brooklyn today, the city has a certain pall laid over it.<br />
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Everyone's a little kinder today, here in the city. Hopefully everyone's a liittle kinder where you are today as well.<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-54550740888184311492014-09-10T04:00:00.000-04:002014-09-10T04:00:05.766-04:00TV Must Sees...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm notoriously late to the game when it comes to catching on to TV shows, as is well documented in this blog. These two are two <em>really good</em> shows I recently binge watched over the past few weeks.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA2c4GBeKD66lIxsGDXqtXYmYeS_K-DUamGcnQgmz1dxqO4YJ_6VVIYsuIN4MrrFfyz2c3AMoG_ujB70ZDI1_bXlzQoxffEEhC099JDeIUxBpMlKmYh6-wnAEzoc9xFio3dHOD13nYnYo/s1600/happyvalleytitleshot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA2c4GBeKD66lIxsGDXqtXYmYeS_K-DUamGcnQgmz1dxqO4YJ_6VVIYsuIN4MrrFfyz2c3AMoG_ujB70ZDI1_bXlzQoxffEEhC099JDeIUxBpMlKmYh6-wnAEzoc9xFio3dHOD13nYnYo/s1600/happyvalleytitleshot.jpg" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
<em>Happy Valley</em> is set in a somewhat depressed town in the UK, and it focuses on a female detective investigating crime in the area. Only 6, one hour, episodes. I gobbled this one up.<br />
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Next I stumbled on to <em>The Killing</em>. SO freakin' good. Very creepy, set in the PNW where it's always rainly and chilly, this show focuses the first two seasons on the killing of Rosie Larsen. I loved this show. I have one more (shortened, only 6 episodes) season to go and then I'm on to my next show.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpuudoxLatP4GNHWJNzM5LvNJItr_ntGRyTAjfj07tkUFEZ2UpJoe4c50rvNjAFs_fN091V5ThPFFsVVvtMKSS6EOOSqkQIyW9gTYFFjE8v3pCPaJ9AD000cbpudTNp-xjz4lB4ZwBEJw/s1600/81hEGL0-VuL._SL1500_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpuudoxLatP4GNHWJNzM5LvNJItr_ntGRyTAjfj07tkUFEZ2UpJoe4c50rvNjAFs_fN091V5ThPFFsVVvtMKSS6EOOSqkQIyW9gTYFFjE8v3pCPaJ9AD000cbpudTNp-xjz4lB4ZwBEJw/s1600/81hEGL0-VuL._SL1500_.jpg" height="640" width="442" /></a></div>
What show you ask? Oh, only <em>Sons of Anarchy</em>. You know, there are only six seasons I have to watch (with the 7th starting this month). Like I said. Late to the game.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-87671327895665643052014-09-09T05:00:00.000-04:002014-09-09T05:00:00.945-04:00twelve.How? Twelve? Twelve years???<br />
<span id="goog_1199241401"></span><span id="goog_1199241402"></span><br />
I'm seriously having trouble facing the reality that this little lady was born 12 years ago. And she is, now, a little lady. It's crazy to me when I watch videos of Madeline when she was 4 or 5 or even younger. That little elfish voice. The baby cheeks and big brown eyes.<br />
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Now that she's in Middle School it's like this weird transformation has taken place. She's smart (oh so smart) and funny and growing up. But she's still little Maddy. She's still that sweet girl who wants to cuddle and have you do her hair. The one who will dance around and act like a goof and not care. She hasn't turned into that nightmarish tween. Maybe that has to do with no Instagram. No Facebook. No cell phone. She's only 12 for God's sake! <br />
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And trust me. Girlfriend can bring out the sass and attitude. She's 12 for God's sake! ;)<br />
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But she's a <i><b>good girl</b></i>. A sweet girl. A girl I'm so proud to know.<br />
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Here are the past 12 years in pictures. Cue the tears...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2YD_3OWPFsMFdOiW8LlY-XJU0JtPph6NjKU3Bg9N7pPKwrMJvULFMWu1XtFXOVkfr9SaKJVOvnJX3I95WBL8h8A_JXKNclTub96_MtuQGD6ksG_E55KEVOEuhuset-RdbjSm9Bmn3Go/s1600/adsfasdfdsfd909+(26).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2YD_3OWPFsMFdOiW8LlY-XJU0JtPph6NjKU3Bg9N7pPKwrMJvULFMWu1XtFXOVkfr9SaKJVOvnJX3I95WBL8h8A_JXKNclTub96_MtuQGD6ksG_E55KEVOEuhuset-RdbjSm9Bmn3Go/s1600/adsfasdfdsfd909+(26).JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Itty bitty, eating her teething cookie!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYOMp3Tem1fqzBRhl5aed3SbXQiLxmRwZc7uXUsJmVwjT3lkqctosiukDuDZgRI-SwYAO7E4mY_lgmST7Rhn47Jy7ngjXig5pnkhazKiwxpZNwJFbOSLlveJab0tDXaIQLWzgcJArAEc/s1600/pics+127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYOMp3Tem1fqzBRhl5aed3SbXQiLxmRwZc7uXUsJmVwjT3lkqctosiukDuDZgRI-SwYAO7E4mY_lgmST7Rhn47Jy7ngjXig5pnkhazKiwxpZNwJFbOSLlveJab0tDXaIQLWzgcJArAEc/s1600/pics+127.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Post ballet, around 4 years old.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCEuiE-_Igf-5bs96FPssSCo_xoQNzxlHOGaO9WYkgjZCcUmQuselhWg_JPCFu2tmE7oTNIHbdK3fv87VusHhVXUKUcWf59HET_Vit2Hd41CNx1Og3eodriMqTHhWt7Ku3lnmMqeFayE4/s1600/pretty+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCEuiE-_Igf-5bs96FPssSCo_xoQNzxlHOGaO9WYkgjZCcUmQuselhWg_JPCFu2tmE7oTNIHbdK3fv87VusHhVXUKUcWf59HET_Vit2Hd41CNx1Og3eodriMqTHhWt7Ku3lnmMqeFayE4/s1600/pretty+girl.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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4 year old ham.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheRwARXg_NKWgerDoVNV_xHgRFwoOit_HvB21hlpIZe6woN3x9DGuYUL0V0WcUdjskiTAj1040vNz20_6w7KPoLIsRJnuqjeQJo9Uq04kV31bk-Ibmmi7J0CqsF9XfUT4gZYdMgOE4t1A/s1600/fall+photo+shoot+062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheRwARXg_NKWgerDoVNV_xHgRFwoOit_HvB21hlpIZe6woN3x9DGuYUL0V0WcUdjskiTAj1040vNz20_6w7KPoLIsRJnuqjeQJo9Uq04kV31bk-Ibmmi7J0CqsF9XfUT4gZYdMgOE4t1A/s1600/fall+photo+shoot+062.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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6 years old.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOYLBkFV8TVUdrwxJeIwF4fhgoJTNUmBWjGTy7t83u1tpRjiiMI0Zp6gXFgS-3IpMdBLofLMpcX5RpykafB8A6W3wPp2LRG7QVhcEEK5YSylb8ZBDMtmkMHbyy5RHInFZAmYRxOsky9Fc/s1600/IMG_3718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOYLBkFV8TVUdrwxJeIwF4fhgoJTNUmBWjGTy7t83u1tpRjiiMI0Zp6gXFgS-3IpMdBLofLMpcX5RpykafB8A6W3wPp2LRG7QVhcEEK5YSylb8ZBDMtmkMHbyy5RHInFZAmYRxOsky9Fc/s1600/IMG_3718.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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7 years old.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRvDnEPDYvSE-rN4OH-RX36aT5IdlBkN1jjH5bF_h2ty7QetObS933ULaIW8-QzDc7hR-DemZEPQpGpmFHOFzi7CLwabmcQyenAKMMoJhlc6b9xHkO-q6Prb4qcX0rqsVoLwttkrX8r2M/s1600/IMG_4662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRvDnEPDYvSE-rN4OH-RX36aT5IdlBkN1jjH5bF_h2ty7QetObS933ULaIW8-QzDc7hR-DemZEPQpGpmFHOFzi7CLwabmcQyenAKMMoJhlc6b9xHkO-q6Prb4qcX0rqsVoLwttkrX8r2M/s1600/IMG_4662.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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Nine.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEVOOlb0FdhdCRmZeAac3oMmr2Alv2eTp7ZMVaTEofacPgNgrfvid63i_K90ESW4VBEoXAtxusYkubbLLtnH375sPUERIUBU6i0UTuyO4AmQFsPuZQP7nRFmZQqfmwBojGY3VtKgzO-E/s1600/IMG_0101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEVOOlb0FdhdCRmZeAac3oMmr2Alv2eTp7ZMVaTEofacPgNgrfvid63i_K90ESW4VBEoXAtxusYkubbLLtnH375sPUERIUBU6i0UTuyO4AmQFsPuZQP7nRFmZQqfmwBojGY3VtKgzO-E/s1600/IMG_0101.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Tiny dancer. Ten.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoFLSFjR9dpkpS6uFIhgRUrsZdHHiNmaNElB9oEeROOOyQpDSp2HZl3lUCdA7Um6gUALkYG8cWI7QGDweZ_o5Vp57xj86xPVO7M7D-F70FhgpMe3-GtBU8mWNFoDEjVhTC_N5J6Giqjbs/s1600/IMG_0227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoFLSFjR9dpkpS6uFIhgRUrsZdHHiNmaNElB9oEeROOOyQpDSp2HZl3lUCdA7Um6gUALkYG8cWI7QGDweZ_o5Vp57xj86xPVO7M7D-F70FhgpMe3-GtBU8mWNFoDEjVhTC_N5J6Giqjbs/s1600/IMG_0227.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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First Communion. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ40vU32hyphenhyphenDa-hbknZr4kePVW_OeZHf1u1k1KI5JelJ1Np7D9SUKH9Y87JfgFBWzFp_7ATvw9Vv0MWR3f_cMdHXDgUjjJOBciMPq856rXfyAPvR2wP6k1yr4doQMfB_1SbwW9-y99uOeM/s1600/IMG_2466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ40vU32hyphenhyphenDa-hbknZr4kePVW_OeZHf1u1k1KI5JelJ1Np7D9SUKH9Y87JfgFBWzFp_7ATvw9Vv0MWR3f_cMdHXDgUjjJOBciMPq856rXfyAPvR2wP6k1yr4doQMfB_1SbwW9-y99uOeM/s1600/IMG_2466.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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Twirling in London. Ten years old.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLJoeWXqskghUVRMjmsV4A5t9Xe69z-C-njAeUvC03pJWwTC1_Rxf4IPdpV4k-z7KRMatHWRM9QXq7gt3ibU5pGGYEO_qhssmd2dxkyfI_H0LyHQjFjHDLI8k-C2fas5GOnNpyGl2Fmc/s1600/IMG_0567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhLJoeWXqskghUVRMjmsV4A5t9Xe69z-C-njAeUvC03pJWwTC1_Rxf4IPdpV4k-z7KRMatHWRM9QXq7gt3ibU5pGGYEO_qhssmd2dxkyfI_H0LyHQjFjHDLI8k-C2fas5GOnNpyGl2Fmc/s1600/IMG_0567.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sometimes she just looks so grown up. Ten years old.</div>
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Paris. 10.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4g6sVgclHq7MbOV7vkyo060mXqqQiSTgiF5OBnziSAXihkplEvWzqp4ntKnLGq-OQZ6iAvItz8FnkWezaIhr2SuYchG3mMXRJw0JGMyfIAZ_n7JfG_ms9qlH9y7ikk-JynYXZKvg21i0/s1600/IMG_7942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4g6sVgclHq7MbOV7vkyo060mXqqQiSTgiF5OBnziSAXihkplEvWzqp4ntKnLGq-OQZ6iAvItz8FnkWezaIhr2SuYchG3mMXRJw0JGMyfIAZ_n7JfG_ms9qlH9y7ikk-JynYXZKvg21i0/s1600/IMG_7942.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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London. 10.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoS1teZxqBtDYWj6_GwhI0K533q6vJWS_upIusTOT-xxu5NbHsqAy4QGHg67UuHCWfsSqVSwd9nZb3sH0ETXOZXvg-ENTSMMv-Tu30Jq3Jm9VDs3GAxEpd3uQWWQgmUGCQhymu1UM-bqA/s1600/IMG_3303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoS1teZxqBtDYWj6_GwhI0K533q6vJWS_upIusTOT-xxu5NbHsqAy4QGHg67UuHCWfsSqVSwd9nZb3sH0ETXOZXvg-ENTSMMv-Tu30Jq3Jm9VDs3GAxEpd3uQWWQgmUGCQhymu1UM-bqA/s1600/IMG_3303.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"> Eleven.</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVmso-cOkRZoONfZCOM73Le1boqPBgtFN5pQBbp0WcC3p9qMGrA3R3EfVH1fhIHPr9t9gZ5cyAja7axysJMLZS4dzGCKm9UEZxFO1Igm2sNoGcamkEIHDgDe57oC76ovnqCBBnelmwa2k/s1600/IMG_7004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVmso-cOkRZoONfZCOM73Le1boqPBgtFN5pQBbp0WcC3p9qMGrA3R3EfVH1fhIHPr9t9gZ5cyAja7axysJMLZS4dzGCKm9UEZxFO1Igm2sNoGcamkEIHDgDe57oC76ovnqCBBnelmwa2k/s1600/IMG_7004.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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11. Madeline personified.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG36wxTZmhJiid2pAk20OhWUlV4XMI_VogN9ZdMphppoSIDebVy6fSeDMzq84CuHxz152cd07Hy7vwkluddrG_wnyt4Q_V9q0_OCDkomFohaTdtiU38fEg3JWdZaHYff4EwLpidH5P_Wg/s1600/IMG_7823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG36wxTZmhJiid2pAk20OhWUlV4XMI_VogN9ZdMphppoSIDebVy6fSeDMzq84CuHxz152cd07Hy7vwkluddrG_wnyt4Q_V9q0_OCDkomFohaTdtiU38fEg3JWdZaHYff4EwLpidH5P_Wg/s1600/IMG_7823.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Sass. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlVhNNx4oD2GpGQZcc_aZ3gY6nyCeiAoQPrtgmBdFBVuf4NtGCe37XhXoJtDLtTcYX3NeDU2ngSxGBaMa7w24i_Hy_FHeVogrKpH30FfcrKBmrJrYSMOhGcy1GCqkujJ0qqeylbf1yrYw/s1600/IMG_8850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlVhNNx4oD2GpGQZcc_aZ3gY6nyCeiAoQPrtgmBdFBVuf4NtGCe37XhXoJtDLtTcYX3NeDU2ngSxGBaMa7w24i_Hy_FHeVogrKpH30FfcrKBmrJrYSMOhGcy1GCqkujJ0qqeylbf1yrYw/s1600/IMG_8850.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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Happy birthday you sweet angel baby. I love you more than you will ever, ever know.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-2122192305253132302014-09-07T20:54:00.000-04:002014-09-07T20:54:09.947-04:00Back to School!!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There was this commercial a few years ago. It was a Staples commercial and it showed a mom pushing a cart, throwing school supplies into the basket with a huge smile on her face while her kids trailed behind her, miserably. The music was the Christmas song "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" and it made me laugh every time I saw it.</div>
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Now, with an 8 year old and (on Tuesday) 12 year old under my roof, I get it. </div>
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So here they are. The newly minted 3rd and 7th grader...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_G2kvA-uP3gOYCLByrTPwlAoj-4-fkJQ7qnhc0kBhAcqjebTehjpuhzXb70Y55KcA6_J6diVu7XY98O5RG710nfGubJ248S8sQReV9gf_AgUHIH3jCPBCW1Mdb8ct9ka7BLAQv3gnnIA/s1600/jack+day+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_G2kvA-uP3gOYCLByrTPwlAoj-4-fkJQ7qnhc0kBhAcqjebTehjpuhzXb70Y55KcA6_J6diVu7XY98O5RG710nfGubJ248S8sQReV9gf_AgUHIH3jCPBCW1Mdb8ct9ka7BLAQv3gnnIA/s1600/jack+day+1.jpg" height="640" width="436" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8MFy5aJxPrHy0lUekWweFcslDdM-kegu_dmcdcETJw53Z7J3h3Bp0whmwqHcX3aUHwiMMnCwfi7eRDJNBscFhgrJSxLPIzkjdx8jtcpR8Bto6L28e6CqAAnFSWWZzHon9hJQ-WJt6ZY/s1600/IMG_5963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB8MFy5aJxPrHy0lUekWweFcslDdM-kegu_dmcdcETJw53Z7J3h3Bp0whmwqHcX3aUHwiMMnCwfi7eRDJNBscFhgrJSxLPIzkjdx8jtcpR8Bto6L28e6CqAAnFSWWZzHon9hJQ-WJt6ZY/s1600/IMG_5963.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-87256116109619207812014-09-02T05:30:00.000-04:002014-08-28T17:18:54.769-04:00Me. As a kid...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I thought I'd share some not so great pictures of me as a little kid. Only because I was going through pictures the other day, moving them from my hard drive to a flash and saw some that made me chuckle.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBEUgJ8A5yzpD-MTNTswcliSSbstHReopCYdluhdwSOoK2Xi3MFI8_gv2ub0YcPvB3YYWAINefJXPwkRQJxD-M111AU2gg5K2jwimkEVOUJKLKOz8qk61Ykf9nm8zEFzmuK6CYlBUqPBw/s1600/jenny+4+weeks0069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBEUgJ8A5yzpD-MTNTswcliSSbstHReopCYdluhdwSOoK2Xi3MFI8_gv2ub0YcPvB3YYWAINefJXPwkRQJxD-M111AU2gg5K2jwimkEVOUJKLKOz8qk61Ykf9nm8zEFzmuK6CYlBUqPBw/s1600/jenny+4+weeks0069.JPG" height="640" width="474" /></a></div>
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Me, circa 1971. Although it looks like circa 1871 based on the state of the photo. </div>
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One. I remember this towel. Two. Could someone empty that trash bin? Three. Wallpaper.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4mPvHL4qZdy2KRMqsCnQW__DxRo8Ps_uqRbQA0OIoolbt3NM1hLb2vS6EuGEFjKiDB-lPuZap8j2hs-4K8YpeKhO2pxlVPYwNjUe4tFa-DYoqIT5PDMEieoAnDoo4jnbYYM2egoNCfdI/s1600/mom+and+her+girls0087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4mPvHL4qZdy2KRMqsCnQW__DxRo8Ps_uqRbQA0OIoolbt3NM1hLb2vS6EuGEFjKiDB-lPuZap8j2hs-4K8YpeKhO2pxlVPYwNjUe4tFa-DYoqIT5PDMEieoAnDoo4jnbYYM2egoNCfdI/s1600/mom+and+her+girls0087.JPG" height="528" width="640" /></a></div>
I just. I don't know. I have no words. I'm the girl on the right in the sweet pink crocheted sweater. Kelly in the one with no pants and Sherri is on the left in a skirt? Huge pants?<br />
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The hair. What was I thinking? Why did I BEG my mom to let me get my (very curly) hair cut? Also. I remember that shirt. The elephant was this weird puffy material. And as a PSA, don't get bangs with curly hair if you go back in time where there is no such things as flat irons and anti frizz serum. You're welcome.<br />
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Frizzy on the right.<br />
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We look like weird cult members here. None of us match, style wise. My sister's dress is velour. Velour. And the knee socks. Kelly looks like a farmer. Will looks like an old man. My mom has the sweet one side pulled back hair and I'm apparently a pretty track star with legs for days. And knees. <br />
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You're welcome for the laugh. I hope it makes back to school this week a little easier! ;)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-56502625633608870942014-09-01T05:00:00.000-04:002014-09-01T05:00:05.995-04:00Headache update...My sister in law mentioned that I never updated you on my random headache (which I promised to update you on post appointment and never did).<br />
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Well here's the deal...<br />
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I apparently pulled a cranial muscle (yes, in my head) that ran from my ear to my eye socket (basically stretching across the top of my head). So it was like the muscle was shortened and I had to lengthen it out so that I could be in less pain.<br />
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Oh. And muscle relaxers. Those helped too.<br />
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But I'm all good! Healthy and no more headache. <br />
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Leave it to me to to pull a muscle in my head...<br />
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Oh. And Happy Labor Day!!!!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-42022356101627614932014-08-28T17:06:00.000-04:002014-08-28T17:06:36.737-04:00The Color Run!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Well I did it. I did The Color Run here in Buffalo. And it was a lot of fun. And it was done with another adult and 4 children. Oof! There was a little whining, but overall they were great and walked the whole 5k. Of course once the color started being thrown they were thrilled. And dirty.</div>
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If I arrived at check in one second earlier my bib number would have been 111111! Grrr!</div>
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This is post race (and not my photo BTW, but I cannot for the life of me find the source).<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhc60zrKznd7wBGWGbQ2L2JDFYgIUjlvkaGMidDJ5g9WlYJnrvH-4cQ0JzyptklW2ImxuoNTupfBYRqLWyz3yWgAVZ3EkMA325-4SZrVfNiVkuRpk2dnv3jSG9wNuTTBEn9RuJoH9OPk/s1600/TCR_09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhc60zrKznd7wBGWGbQ2L2JDFYgIUjlvkaGMidDJ5g9WlYJnrvH-4cQ0JzyptklW2ImxuoNTupfBYRqLWyz3yWgAVZ3EkMA325-4SZrVfNiVkuRpk2dnv3jSG9wNuTTBEn9RuJoH9OPk/s1600/TCR_09.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a><br />
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Ditto on the note above. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjyuW2J15ySuKajE4jGE2PS6yV5iWqyWxS0BTqcHdYphp2go3BVdQL9xoXE0m8FQATcdfSKoT12Z6K1PsXhAS2iKhZxfJs1hLnG_bOl10tv0yeZtxjZqUTlLsVsJPFDmzAIVW2agLsWlI/s1600/IMG_5153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjyuW2J15ySuKajE4jGE2PS6yV5iWqyWxS0BTqcHdYphp2go3BVdQL9xoXE0m8FQATcdfSKoT12Z6K1PsXhAS2iKhZxfJs1hLnG_bOl10tv0yeZtxjZqUTlLsVsJPFDmzAIVW2agLsWlI/s1600/IMG_5153.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
After we got through the Blue Zone (clearly). This was our first color zone so we were truly blue. Once we hit the others we ended up being a multicolored mess.<br />
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Just before heading into the pink zone (just finished the purple zone).<br />
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Annnnd, done. The photos aren't the best as I took pictures with my iPhone in a baggie. I wasn't about to bust out the DSLR at The Color Run!!!<br />
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Tons of fun, we'll do it again next year, for sure!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8945681363871484764.post-58077298369782998672014-08-12T16:42:00.000-04:002014-08-12T16:42:13.549-04:00O Captain! My Captain!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm sure I'm not alone in my feelings of deep sadness at the passing of Robin Williams. He holds a very special place in my heart, and in the hearts of so many. That's how amazing he was. None of us knew him, as a person, but his passing feels personal. But God, when I look back at the films he was in that made me laugh and cry, and FEEL something. So many. So, so many.<br />
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From <i>Dead Poets Society</i> to T<i>he World According to Garp</i>. <i>What Dreams May Come</i> and <i>Good Will Hunting</i>. <i>Good Morning Vietnam, Awakenings, Patch Adams</i>. <i>Nine Months, The Fisher King</i> and <i>The Birdcage</i>.<br />
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Each role makes me smile, or think or cry. And to think that this man, who was so very sad, took his own life. Sad. What a pathetic word to use. I can't imagine the pain of living in such a dark space, while trying to make people happy.<br />
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Suicide is so heart wrenching. So final. So unbelievably <i><u>sad</u></i>.<br />
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Carpe diem my friends. And rest in peace Mr. Williams.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">If you or someone you know needs help, please, <i><u>please </u></i>call The National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0