<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547</id><updated>2012-01-17T10:40:16.585-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Creativity at its Worst</title><subtitle type='html'>A way for my friends to reconnect with each other through crazy journaling.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-3510531577173548517</id><published>2007-11-26T12:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T12:28:09.302-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrics</title><content type='html'>I am a big fan of music and lyrics. I find them &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fascinating&lt;/span&gt; and I wish I was as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;articulate&lt;/span&gt; as those that write them.  This weekend I heard a song by Pink (I think was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;originally&lt;/span&gt; by someone else) called "Dear Mr. President".  I feel in love with the song.  Here are the lyrics.  I think they speak volumes about what is going on in our culture and society today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me preface this by saying that I am not trying to slam the president. It is a job that I wouldn't want and will never aspire to obtain. I could not imagine being responsible for everything.  I just think this song speaks volumes about what is going on right now in our country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dear Mr. President,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Come take a walk with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let's pretend we're just two people and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You're not better than me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you feel when you look in the mirror?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you proud?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How do you walk with your head held high?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Can you even look me in the eye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And tell me why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dear Mr. President,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Were you a lonely boy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you a lonely boy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are you a lonely boy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How can you say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No child is left behind?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We're not dumb and we're not blind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They're all sitting in your cells&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;While you pave the road to hell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can only imagine what the first lady has to say&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How do you walk with your head held high?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Can you even look me in the eye?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let me tell you 'bout hard work&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Minimum wage with a baby on the way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let me tell you 'bout hard work&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let me tell you 'bout hard work&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Building a bed out of a cardboard box&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let me tell you 'bout hard work&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hard work&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hard work&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You don't know nothing 'bout hard work&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hard work&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hard work&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Oh, How&lt;/span&gt; do you sleep at night?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How do you walk with your head held high?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dear Mr. President,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You'd never take a walk with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Would you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-3510531577173548517?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3510531577173548517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=3510531577173548517&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/3510531577173548517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/3510531577173548517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/11/lyrics.html' title='Lyrics'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-858157656552768818</id><published>2007-10-15T13:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T13:50:48.561-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For the Fun of It</title><content type='html'>What time is it? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;2:39 pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your full name?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Carma Renee Reese&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you most afraid of? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;the unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the most recent movie that you have seen? W&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;e watched a really bad Jackie Chan movie on the CW yesterday, does that count?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Place of birth?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Auburn, Indiana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite food?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Right now?? Fruit Roll Ups. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's your natural hair color? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Who knows anymore. It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;blonde&lt;/span&gt;, but the older I became the darker it got. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever been to Freak Nick?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Nope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever been skinny dipping?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Plead the 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love someone so much it made you cry?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Yes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been in a car accident?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;2. One when I was in fifth grade and one two years ago. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite time of day? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Evening. After dinner, when the dishes are loaded and the dog is calm. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite day of the week?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sundays, we have the whole day together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite restaurant?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Takaoka&lt;/span&gt; of Japan &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Flower? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Tulips&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite sport to watch on TV? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;....the dog jumping contests. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite drink? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Hot Cocoa. When not pregnant? Smirnoff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite ice cream?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I haven't eaten ice cream in forever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warner Brothers/Disney? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;WB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever been on a ship?   &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sure, was it moving, nope. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What color is your bedroom carpet?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Light tan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times did you fail your driver's test? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;None&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before this one, from whom did you get your last e-mail?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Tyler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do when you are bored?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Walk the dog or organize stuff around the house. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bedtime?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I'm usually in bed around 9:30-10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite TV shows?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ugly Betty, Grey's Anatomy, Big Shots, Beauty and the Geek, Bachelor, Life is Wild&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last person you went to dinner with? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;We ate with my brother in law and his family last night, and the night before that too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Park or Zoo?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Depends on who I am with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are your favorite colors ?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Right now???? Red and Blue. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many tattoos do you have? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Currently, none. Taylor came and blew my birthday idea. But I'll take Taylor over a tattoo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;anyday&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many pets do you have? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;1 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;doggie&lt;/span&gt; (Scooter), 1 Holland Lop (Charlie), 2 cats that live with mom (Lafayette and Malachi)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which came first, the chicken or the egg? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;That's on my list of things to ask Him when I get there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you want to do before you die?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Truly live. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been to Hawaii?  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;We took a pretend trip there when I worked at the daycare. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you been to countries outside the U.S. ? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Yes: Canada, Germany, Netherlands, Austria, Spain, and I think I'm leaving one out....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time this survey ended? &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;2:51pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-858157656552768818?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/858157656552768818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=858157656552768818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/858157656552768818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/858157656552768818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/10/for-fun-of-it.html' title='For the Fun of It'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-1270520984808296368</id><published>2007-10-10T08:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T09:02:11.471-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To Be 10 Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so I've been slacking off on this blog lately, I know. I'm sorry. I have finally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chosen&lt;/span&gt; a new topic. Imagine you are ten again. You can take all of your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;knowledge&lt;/span&gt; now back to that time. What would you do differently?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how much I would do differently, but I would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;defiantly&lt;/span&gt; spend time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;re enjoying&lt;/span&gt; things I used to enjoy. I was emailing this week with a friend of mine and here is a part of my email.  I used to go to this friends house after school and in the summer for "baby sitting." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"T,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever want to go back in time, even if its just for the afternoon? I began wishing I could this afternoon. Back to a time when life was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;simpler&lt;/span&gt;.  If only it were that easy.  You know where I found myself this afternoon? In Logan's walk in closet. With the marble set we weren't supposed to get out.  Then I found myself out back on the swing flying to Hawaii and fighting about what coast it was off of (you were right of course).  Then the play room.  With 'The Price is Right' on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; in the next room and Robert rapping "Vanilla Ice."  Man, those were the days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk past that house about every other day with the dog. Cracks me up to think about the past.  The construction guy falling through the ceiling. Your broken leg (i thin it was leg, but now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; thinking arm).  You had "caution" tape on your closet door.  Going to the creepy basement for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Popsicles&lt;/span&gt;.  Hiding from your grandmother.  Stepping on a bee in the sandbox.  riding and skating down the sidewalk to "ramp" on the bump in the sidewalk.  When my sister moved into that tiny house that is set off &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; street on that road I used to ride my bike and I always tried to jump that bump. You'd think by now they'd fix it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess enough remembering the real world is calling and I can't ignore the ringing phone forever. Although, if I shut the closet door and build the marble tower I might be able too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which "T" replied,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All the time.  I would love to be back there in Logan's closet with the marble tower with you.  Trying to sneak in the house so Grandma wouldn't see, playing in the yard, building a snowman and getting in the paper.  Mac and cheese for lunch.  Best years of my life, and I so wanted to be a grown up.  Now I so want to be a little kid. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would also spend more time playing in the rain. Playing kickball in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;cul&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;-sac.  Jailbreak on a hot summer night. Pick up game of touch football in my backyard.  Climbing the willow tree next door with S.  Ice hockey in T &amp;amp; C's back yard (it was always flooded). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;, to be ten again.  Would you go back? Why or why not?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-1270520984808296368?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1270520984808296368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=1270520984808296368&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/1270520984808296368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/1270520984808296368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/10/to-be-10-again.html' title='To Be 10 Again'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-2807280829105990900</id><published>2007-08-13T10:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T08:45:40.935-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Odd Words</title><content type='html'>Several years ago, Leah and I started something to amuse ourselves during church. Yes, I know, that was bad, we should have been paying attention. Anyways, I wish I could find that list now. I may have to go home and dig for it. Our list consisted of word we thought were funny. Here is my list of funny words and why they are funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dorcus&lt;/span&gt; -&lt;/strong&gt;Could you really name your kid that? I know, it's a Biblical name, still, it just screams, well, DORK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moist-&lt;/strong&gt;It just sounds funny, or dirty, depending on how it is used.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hippopotamus&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;. I just picture a big purple blob. It just cracks me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Spaghetti&lt;/span&gt;- &lt;/strong&gt;I like the stuff, the name is just funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;French Lick- &lt;/strong&gt;Who decided to name the town that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aardvark-&lt;/strong&gt; How did they come up with that name. They were looking at this crazy animal and someone sneezed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Emu-&lt;/strong&gt; Don't know why, but to me it's funny. Then again, so is it's cousin, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ostrich&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mullet- &lt;/strong&gt;the word and the hairstyle are funny. I once had a friend give his "final exam speech" in speech class about the different types of mullets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Smidgen- &lt;/strong&gt;I picture the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Swedish&lt;/span&gt; chef from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Muppet's&lt;/span&gt; hosting a cooking show drunk. I don't know why, I just do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to find that list....I know I have a ton more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-2807280829105990900?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2807280829105990900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=2807280829105990900&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/2807280829105990900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/2807280829105990900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/08/odd-words.html' title='Odd Words'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-257802596484213375</id><published>2007-08-06T13:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T13:17:27.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Things and Why</title><content type='html'>10 Things I'll Never Do and Why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) I will never kiss a lion because they have bad breath and those teeth, who knows where they have been!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) I will never earn a degree in physics. I'm cool with it though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) I will never again eat cold fried calamari after drinking 6 beers while sitting outside a bar in Spain.  Does this really need a reason as to why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) I will never look a spider in the eye.  They have too many eyes to choose just one eye to look into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) I will never wear jellie shoes again.  Why? They will never be comfortable, they never were, never will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) I will never take the "short" way to the ferry. Nor will I ever have an icecream bar and local bull beer for breakfast.  I will then never get on the ferry to cross the choppy sea to the island of Cadiz. This one goes along with #3.  Actually, I did #6 the morning after doing #3. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) I will never tell a pregnant woman, "Woah, you must be ready to pop." Why? This does not to wonders for their self-esteem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) I will never again wear sturrup pants with 3 pairs (all different colors mind you) of scrunchie socks. Nor will I allow my sister to peg my pink cordory pants. Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) I will never crimp my hair. Who wants to look like they had an accident between a fork and the toaster?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) I will never say never.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-257802596484213375?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/257802596484213375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=257802596484213375&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/257802596484213375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/257802596484213375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/08/10-things-and-why.html' title='10 Things and Why'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-6593357096541000063</id><published>2007-08-02T07:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T08:14:49.508-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Childhood Favorite(s)</title><content type='html'>So it was my turn to pick the blog topic.  After putting it off for several days (Sorry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kianne&lt;/span&gt;) I finally made up my mind this morning.  Here are a few of my childhood favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hasbro's Kid Sister&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah, my kid sister, and I did everything together.  Her hard plastic head with blue eyes that always looked like a deer in the head lights, even slept in my bed. I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;surprised&lt;/span&gt; I don't have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;permanent&lt;/span&gt; indent left by her nose in my back.  Her perfectly positioned freckles, plastic shoes, blue overalls and hat had me at hello.  Plus, I could drag her where ever I wanted to go.  Let me back track.  My biological sister is 7 1/2 years older and often found me annoying, although I don't know why, I was wonderful (please sense the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sarcasm&lt;/span&gt; in my typing).  Natalee could not be persuaded to do anything, however, Sarah, my kid sister, she had no choice. We took bike rides(I'm sure she loved her basket seat), &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;climbed&lt;/span&gt; the neighbors weeping willow tree, played beauty salon, and hang out in the backyard.  There was one thing she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; do well, swim.  Her big plastic head was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;floatable&lt;/span&gt;, but her fabric body soaked up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;moisture&lt;/span&gt; like a sponge. I'm pretty sure I still have Sarah, I think she now lives in a Rubbermaid tote in my shed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sit and Spins&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;, the best way to spend a hot afternoon, making yourself so dizzy you puked in the neighbors backyard.  Starring at the spiral shaped colors on the (handle), watching them go round and round as you go round and round till you can't see straight.  Funny this is, I could spin myself silly every afternoon, yet the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;gravatron&lt;/span&gt; at the fair seemed so unnatural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jail Break&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was fortunate to grow up on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;cul&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;-sac where lots of other kids lived. Ours was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;cul&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;-sac to play on.  Kids from the rest of the block would come and beg to play.  Right at the end of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;cul&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;-sac (that's such a funny word) was a light pole. That was base.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;remember&lt;/span&gt; that Leah once tried to hide in a raspberry bush. That was a rough night. Turns out that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Benadryl&lt;/span&gt; makes her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;unbelievably&lt;/span&gt; hyper.  Ryan used to scale the pole and play look out, shouting to his team where everyone was.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;tended&lt;/span&gt; to be the jailer. I wasn't a fan of hiding in the dark, I was happy to guard the jail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kick Ball&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we weren't play jail break, there was kick ball. A crack in the straight portion of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;cul&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;-sac was 1st base. My mailbox was 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;, the light pole was 3rd, and home was a crack in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Beaty's&lt;/span&gt; drive way.  We had to be careful.  A poorly aimed "home run" often bounced off our front window, which did not please the father.  I really miss those days. I'm tempted to send out invitations to all of those kids I used to play with to have a day of jail break and kick ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Willow Tree&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My neighbors had the perfect willow tree. It was very climbable.  Stuart and I would spend hours in that tree. We had to be quiet though because his dad worked third and the tree was right outside his parent's bedroom. We were pirates, royalty, family, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;thieves&lt;/span&gt;, animal rescuers, explorers, just about anything you could think of. That tree had magical powers.  The new owner of that house is thinking of cutting it down. It has gotten out of control and it is dying a slow death, but it will still be sad to see it go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-6593357096541000063?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6593357096541000063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=6593357096541000063&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/6593357096541000063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/6593357096541000063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/08/childhood-favorites.html' title='Childhood Favorite(s)'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-563451848837638104</id><published>2007-07-26T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T09:44:00.755-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;LOVE IS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...accepting each other, good aspects and bad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...being forgiven and being willing to ask for forgiveness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...bringing a child into this world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...not just saying "I do"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...a verb&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...not easy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...a wonderful journey, even with its ups and downs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...kind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...paradise when you're together&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...in the air&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...for sharing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...patient &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...all around us&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...being tucked into bed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...a glass of water and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tylenol&lt;/span&gt; when you have a head ache&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...coming home to a clean house and dinner on the table&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...doing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; without being prompted &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...sharing your half of the bed (but not for the interstate highway of death)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...a good friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...what makes the world 'go round'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-563451848837638104?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/563451848837638104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=563451848837638104&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/563451848837638104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/563451848837638104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/07/love-is.html' title='Love Is...'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-97231171929499362</id><published>2007-07-16T12:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T11:13:41.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>Why does God keep His timing such a secret?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I so indecisive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I fear something that may never happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do doctors gag at the sight of blood?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does God choose to be so mysterious?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do pregnant women crave odd things?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does my dog follow me around 24/7?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't we decide on a middle name for a girl?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;I find storms so scary?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do some adults become boring?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't we all stay kids at heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does life have to be so rough for some and easy for others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people allow their leg to get caught between a tractor and a pulverizer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, and more specifically, how does laundry pile up so fast?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are their fingerprints on my office window?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I terrified?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don't I let my fear show?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I craving Bread Basket?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-97231171929499362?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/97231171929499362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=97231171929499362&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/97231171929499362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/97231171929499362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/07/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-3657038218507563246</id><published>2007-07-02T08:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T08:27:18.174-05:00</updated><title type='text'>40 Things</title><content type='html'>40 Things I Did This (actually, in June) Month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Made three new friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Was happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Was sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Faked &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;enthusiasm&lt;/span&gt; for someone who received what I have been praying for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Discovered my genuine &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;enthusiasm&lt;/span&gt; for that same person, its just took awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Discovered Diet Pepsi Max, and became a fan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Was told not to worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Worried anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Missed my grandparents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Discovered the beauty in downtown Auburn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Discovered a leak in a water line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Became addicted to puzzles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Completed several puzzles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Started some projects I've been putting off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Clean up my own mess at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Admitted that I made that mess at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Fell in love all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Decided to make an effort to eat better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Took time for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Dyed my hair darker for a change of pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Learned not to eat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hot dogs&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Read a ton of books on every topic possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Prayed for firefighters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Thanked my brother in law for all he does (see previous #)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Started walking more and on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;consistent&lt;/span&gt; basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Became less &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;jealous&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Connected with two people who are the same boat as me. Its nice to know I'm not rowing the boat alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Wondered about old friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Wondered if I've changed as much as they have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Tried several new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;recipes&lt;/span&gt;. My favorite so far is cake batter cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Swam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Was weighed at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;drs&lt;/span&gt; office and didn't freak out when I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;accidentally&lt;/span&gt; looked at the scale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Saw two movies in the theater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. Saw several more at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Reconnected with my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Had a car break down, then a truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Stopped being so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;dependant&lt;/span&gt; on my cell phone and watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Had a jumpy party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Changed my spending habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Blogged, several times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-3657038218507563246?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3657038218507563246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=3657038218507563246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/3657038218507563246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/3657038218507563246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/07/40-things.html' title='40 Things'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-3956499043018488163</id><published>2007-06-27T09:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T08:01:16.078-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Name</title><content type='html'>Since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kianne&lt;/span&gt; and I both have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unusually&lt;/span&gt; names, when it came time for me to pic my topic, I choose, "How I feel about my name."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, growing up, I HATED IT! I couldn't buy cool rainbow pencils with my named stamped in gold. I couldn't have the matching pencil case. It sucked. Now that I am older, I appreciate my name. For various reasons. It is uncommon. I like that. I like being the only Carma in the room. If someone says, "Carma," I'm the only one who responds. It makes me unique. What makes it even more special to me is that I was named after my grandmother. My mother's mother passed away before I was born. I think mom was pregnant with me. My parents had decided that my dad would name me. I don't know if always had Carma in mind, but I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;grateful&lt;/span&gt; for that name. I know that it was hard for my mom to call me by my name for awhile. It made her think about her mother. I remember when my grandfather was ill and was close to dying. I went to see him in the nursing home and my mom told grandpa "Carma's here." I don't know if he thought I was me or his wife. Either way, seeing the smile on his face was wonderful. He had basically been unresponsive for awhile, but when you said the name "Carma" he found the strength to smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got curious and tried to search for the meaning of my name on baby name websites. I couldn't find my name. I found &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Carman&lt;/span&gt;, Carmen, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Carmellita&lt;/span&gt; (which is what my sister calls me), and other variations. So I really have no clue what my name means. If anyone knows, feel free to tell me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************&lt;br /&gt;After I posted my blog, my aunt sent me an email with some more information that I didn't know.  Here is what I found out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But, to clarify, yes, your mom was pregnant with you when Grandma Carma died on March 14th, -- while your dad was in Colombia, (the country) as it happens.  Your mom would not call him, stating that she didn't want him to interrupt his trip and come home.  So he did not know Mom had died and the funeral was all over and done until he got back from that church mission trip.  (No matter to me one way or the other -- but at the time, we were concerned about Lynette having to deal with the death, the funeral, etc, w/o your dad, since she was pregnant.  We honored her wishes and did not to try to secretly contact your dad ourselves.)"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-3956499043018488163?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3956499043018488163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=3956499043018488163&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/3956499043018488163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/3956499043018488163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-name.html' title='My Name'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-7824587016166682518</id><published>2007-06-27T08:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T09:03:05.015-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You've Peed Where??</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kianne's&lt;/span&gt; turn to pick our topic and she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wanted&lt;/span&gt; to write about "the oddest place you've done your duty." I can honestly say that I have always used a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;toilet&lt;/span&gt;. I am not an outdoor type person, so therefore I've never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;squatted&lt;/span&gt; in the woods. Someone once told me that if you peed in a pool the water around you turned purple, so I was too scared to pee in a pool. Since I haven't gone to the restroom in any odd places, I'll simply post a picture of a toilet and ask you, "what is the oddest place you've used the restroom?" &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080744281640494146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mO1h0s7L-ns/RoJuAVXHZEI/AAAAAAAAAHc/W3a7gcu-d_s/s400/3546920843.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-7824587016166682518?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7824587016166682518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=7824587016166682518&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/7824587016166682518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/7824587016166682518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/06/youve-peed-where.html' title='You&apos;ve Peed Where??'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mO1h0s7L-ns/RoJuAVXHZEI/AAAAAAAAAHc/W3a7gcu-d_s/s72-c/3546920843.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-2368491944902945864</id><published>2007-06-25T09:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T09:33:30.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Believe In</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I believe [in]...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;love that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;conquers&lt;/span&gt; all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a God that is bigger than we can imagine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the power of prayer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;true friendships lasting through time and troubles. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that the sun should never set upon an argument.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the power of music lyrics.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;we place our happiness in other people's hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that junk food tastes so good because it's bad for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that good people can do bad things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that bad people can do good things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;your parents did the best job they knew how to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the rite to be upset at someone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that beauty magazines promote low self esteem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;retail therapy (to an extent).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm loved when I'm completely by myself alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;praying together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Karma, what you give is what you get returned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;IM&lt;/span&gt; chatting can be just as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;therapeutic&lt;/span&gt; as therapy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the power of a cat nap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the grass is no more greener on the other side.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;my past makes me strong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;not having regrets, only learning opportunities.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that trust is more important than monogamy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;praying for strangers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;your most attractive features are your heart and soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that God should "mess us up" (thanks Adam).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that family is worth more than money or gold.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that adults are simply children &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;masquerading&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the struggle for financial freedom is unfair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the only ones who disagree are millionaires.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;doing one random act of kindness a day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;forgiveness is the key to your happiness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that wedded bliss negates the need to be undressed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;waiting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that God does not endorse TV evangelists.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;learning from others mistakes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;love surviving death into eternity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that every person should have a loving home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that sometimes a knowing look is more powerful than an hour of speech.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CEO's&lt;/span&gt; make way too much money and should share.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Europeans have it figure out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;in the power of blogging.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;expressing yourself, however you see fit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;taking a sick day just to stay home together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tithing&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;nontraditional&lt;/span&gt; ways.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;in the power of my mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*Some of these were borrowed from the song "Affirmation" by Savage Garden. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-2368491944902945864?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2368491944902945864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=2368491944902945864&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/2368491944902945864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/2368491944902945864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-believe-in.html' title='I Believe In'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-4668898852435677217</id><published>2007-06-22T07:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T09:20:47.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Kiss</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kianne&lt;/span&gt; came up with this idea.  I wasn't sure about it at first, but then we talked and refined it even further.  We both decided that our first kiss wasn't exactly earth shattering, nor something we wanted to recall.  Neither one of us are too proud about it.  So we decided to post our first significant kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mine happens to be a funny story, well at least I think it is funny.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; and I had met on our own but also with some help from mutual friends. At the time, his best friend and my best friend were dating and if we hadn't set ourselves up, they would have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; and I had been "dating" for about two weeks.  We planned a big night out with our co-workers.  We all worked at Scott's and most of us were coupled up with other co-workers. Except Sadie and Tim.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; got stuck working for part of the night, so we all stopped in to say hi to him, then we went to Pizza Hut.  Turns out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; had given Tim money to pay for my dinner since he felt bad he had to work.  After we ate, we all went back to Scott's and goof around for half an hour still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; got off work.  All 8 of us trooped back to my house and hung out for awhile.  We decided we were going to go bowling.  As we were bowling, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; reached over and took my  hand.  This was a first.  Of course, all of the other girls noticed and insisted that they had to go to the bathroom and that since they had to go, so did I.  We crammed in the nasty bathroom and they were freaking out about it. While &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Tascha&lt;/span&gt; was busy drilling me with questions, Sadie was amazed by the fact that the bathroom had a condom dispenser.  Anyway, fast forwarding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; and I went back to my house and before we got out of the car, he asked if I wanted to "Make it official."  To this day, I will not let him live that one down!  We ended up going inside and sitting in the living room and watching Ferris &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Bueler's&lt;/span&gt; Day Off till close to 3 in the morning.   He made plans to meet me at church in the morning.  As I was walking him to the door (I'm laughing in my head right now as I think about this) he leaned in and gave me a hug.  As he pulled away, we kissed. Nothing fancy, nothing earth shattering, but it was wonderful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning as I was getting around for church mom asked me what time I got home and how late &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; had stayed.  When I told her that he left around 3:30 in the morning, she got this worried look on her face, but went back into the bathroom and continued to curl her hair.  She stuck her head back out into the hallway, curling iron still stuck in her hair, and said "Well, I think it's time we had a talk."  As I was grabbing my shoes and flying out the door (I had to get to church before &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; so I could fill Leah in on all the details) I shouted, "You're a little late Mom." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realize that my mom took that the wrong way.  She &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;panicked&lt;/span&gt;. After church I explained that I was 17 years old and she didn't have to worry about that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-4668898852435677217?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4668898852435677217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=4668898852435677217&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/4668898852435677217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/4668898852435677217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/06/first-kiss.html' title='First Kiss'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-7982154348778947947</id><published>2007-06-12T11:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T08:38:38.657-05:00</updated><title type='text'>100 Things That Make Me Happy</title><content type='html'>* These are in no particular order&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Friends&lt;br /&gt;3. Cheese popcorn with a cherry Coke&lt;br /&gt;4. My "boys" Scooter and Charlie&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;scrap booking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. taking walks&lt;br /&gt;7. flying kites&lt;br /&gt;8. memories&lt;br /&gt;9. purses&lt;br /&gt;10. shoes&lt;br /&gt;11. family&lt;br /&gt;12. pudding&lt;br /&gt;13. roses&lt;br /&gt;14. sunshine&lt;br /&gt;15. sleeping&lt;br /&gt;16. a good laugh&lt;br /&gt;17. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;McKenna&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Madison&lt;br /&gt;19. Marisa&lt;br /&gt;20. surviving a rough week&lt;br /&gt;21. picnic in the park&lt;br /&gt;22. quiet moments alone&lt;br /&gt;23. Hot chocolate; anything chocolate for that matter&lt;br /&gt;24. long afternoon naps in my hammock&lt;br /&gt;25. golfing - but only when Phil and I have cart races(FYI: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is way to big to ride on the&lt;br /&gt;back of the cart where the bags go)&lt;br /&gt;26. Unexpected flower deliveries&lt;br /&gt;27. blogging&lt;br /&gt;28. Getting a refund instead of paying the IRS&lt;br /&gt;29. Lazy Sunday afternoons&lt;br /&gt;30. Napping with my nieces&lt;br /&gt;31. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mudding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Sunday afternoon flying kites with friends&lt;br /&gt;33. Left over stuffed crust pizza&lt;br /&gt;34. Being able to see the bottom of the laundry hamper&lt;br /&gt;35. Cool shower after getting a sunburn&lt;br /&gt;36. Listening to music at work&lt;br /&gt;37. Colored pens&lt;br /&gt;38. An afternoon in Borders&lt;br /&gt;39. Used books from Amazon.com&lt;br /&gt;40. Chatting with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Kianne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; during work hours&lt;br /&gt;41. Sleeping in till 7&lt;br /&gt;42. A freshly made bed&lt;br /&gt;43. Being organized&lt;br /&gt;44. Giving Scooter a belly rub&lt;br /&gt;45. Working on the house&lt;br /&gt;46. Watching Charlie try to hop/run on tile floors&lt;br /&gt;47. A phone call from my nieces&lt;br /&gt;48. Flipping through an LTD magazine&lt;br /&gt;49. Imagining the future&lt;br /&gt;50. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Sechler's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; dill pickles&lt;br /&gt;51. Mt. Dew&lt;br /&gt;52. Longer lunch breaks with the kids on Friday&lt;br /&gt;53. My new addiction: Crystal Light Energy (Wild Strawberry)&lt;br /&gt;54. Pay Day Friday's&lt;br /&gt;55. QUEST Friday's&lt;br /&gt;56. Remembering&lt;br /&gt;57. Sleep overs&lt;br /&gt;58. Grey's Anatomy&lt;br /&gt;59. George (my body pillow and yes, he is named after George from Grey's Anatomy)&lt;br /&gt;60. Long afternoon walks with Scooter&lt;br /&gt;61. Smelling the lilacs in my yard&lt;br /&gt;62. Friday's chocolate break&lt;br /&gt;63. My cow mailbox: even though it is broken and leaks and will soon be replaced&lt;br /&gt;64. Working Algebra problems with students (If anyone tells my old Algebra teacher this.....)&lt;br /&gt;65. Any day when a kid doesn't vomit at work&lt;br /&gt;66. Macaroni and Cheese&lt;br /&gt;67. Brand new box of Crayola crayons&lt;br /&gt;68. Midnight jumping parties in the moonwalk&lt;br /&gt;69. "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Uhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;..you dropped this." "No I didn't."&lt;br /&gt;70. STOMP&lt;br /&gt;71. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; singing me my night time song.&lt;br /&gt;72. Monday morning "catch up" chats with friends&lt;br /&gt;73. Afternoon jump sessions with my nieces (playing crack the egg with Madison)&lt;br /&gt;74. Watching a student experience a "ah ha" moment during Algebra time&lt;br /&gt;75. Afternoon chit chats with Nikki&lt;br /&gt;76. Music&lt;br /&gt;77. Driving with the windows down and the radio up.&lt;br /&gt;78. Goldfish crackers&lt;br /&gt;79. Our rotating dinner party group&lt;br /&gt;80. Watching the rain&lt;br /&gt;81. Live radio over the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; (makes the work day much better)&lt;br /&gt;82. Gardening (although you couldn't tell if you look at my yard now)&lt;br /&gt;83. Bob Evans Cobb Salad (minus the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;bleu&lt;/span&gt; cheese)&lt;br /&gt;84. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Fraggle&lt;/span&gt; Rock theme song (cast your cares away, worries for another day)&lt;br /&gt;85. Kroger brand kettle corn&lt;br /&gt;86. Watching bad 80's movies with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;87. Mowing the yard&lt;br /&gt;88. Fuzzy Bunnies (the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;marshmallow&lt;/span&gt; game)&lt;br /&gt;89. Finding the toilet seat has been put down and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;toilet&lt;/span&gt; paper has been refilled&lt;br /&gt;90. Foaming &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;hand soap&lt;/span&gt; sale at Bath and Body Works&lt;br /&gt;91. Giraffes&lt;br /&gt;92. Zebras (If you don't know why, then how well do you really know me?)&lt;br /&gt;93. When everyone else is happy&lt;br /&gt;94. Growing older (age wise) but staying young (at heart)&lt;br /&gt;95. Sales&lt;br /&gt;96. Learning something new&lt;br /&gt;97. When I realize that I have become an adult and it is not that bad&lt;br /&gt;98. Christmas get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;togethers&lt;/span&gt; with the family&lt;br /&gt;99. Playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;UNO&lt;/span&gt; with grandma (haven't been able to do that in years)&lt;br /&gt;100. Two lines, eventually&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-7982154348778947947?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7982154348778947947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=7982154348778947947&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/7982154348778947947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/7982154348778947947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/04/100-things-that-make-me-happy.html' title='100 Things That Make Me Happy'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-8727916746048625808</id><published>2007-05-07T12:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T12:30:31.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Worst Habit...</title><content type='html'>I would have to say that my worst habit is my ability to procrastinate.  I do have a way to justify my behavior though.  I tend to work better under pressure.  I believe that I have developed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ADHD&lt;/span&gt; as a coping mechanism while in college. I juggled working full time and taking a full class load.  I now work better under pressure.  It is amazing if I get something done ahead of schedule. Don't get me wrong, I'm not late, I just tend to put it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do think that I am getting better though.  Case and point: I only have 3 students today and I really didn't have anything to do but answer questions.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;decided&lt;/span&gt; to start my summer chores list early.  I manged to get my biggest task started and almost (still trying to locate some addresses) completed today.  I'll admit that I did have motivation.  During the summer the "day" portion of my program stops (due to the fact that schools are not in session).  I do a majority of my work during those hours.  I have decided to ask to do ride &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;alongs&lt;/span&gt; and to learn more about the community corrections side of my office.  I am hoping that I can ask my boss to do ride &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;alongs&lt;/span&gt; with our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;surveillance&lt;/span&gt; officer.  If I get my summer list done now, that clears up my summer.  Wow, that was a really long example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this blog is an example of my ability to procrastinate.  I could be calling places and organizing my filing cabinet, but instead I chose to sat down and write a blog.  Like I said, I'm working on changing that habit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-8727916746048625808?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8727916746048625808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=8727916746048625808&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/8727916746048625808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/8727916746048625808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-worst-habit.html' title='My Worst Habit...'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-7568015156470449863</id><published>2007-05-02T09:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T09:34:18.859-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Really Miss...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I really miss....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;     ...my childhood &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;innocence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...my childhood ignorance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;     ...my nuclear family&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...sleepovers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;     ...taking college classes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;musicians&lt;/span&gt; who can actually play&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;     ...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;musicians&lt;/span&gt; who can actually read/write music&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...working part-time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;     ...the thrill of driving for no reason&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...my senior year in high school&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;     ...traveling over seas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...watching the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;N'Sync&lt;/span&gt; special over and over again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;     ...wasting time, lying in a hammock, watching the clouds move&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...my glow in the dark stars that I stuck all over my bedroom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;     ...mid-night phone calls to friends&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...being able to read a book for fun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;     ...the way it used to be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...sitcom &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;television&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...cheesy boy band music&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;...being able to be me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-7568015156470449863?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7568015156470449863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=7568015156470449863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/7568015156470449863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/7568015156470449863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-really-miss.html' title='I Really Miss...'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-7075261800777152431</id><published>2007-04-27T13:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T13:52:02.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Are You...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;wearing? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     My favorite pair of Old Navy jeans (which, by the way, are way to big, which only means that I am getting smaller. Yeah for me.)  My grey &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;CDYC&lt;/span&gt; shirt and my grey Purdue &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hoodie&lt;/span&gt;. Yes, Friday's in the "government" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;realm&lt;/span&gt; mean comfort.  Oh, and I'm wearing my black &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Croc&lt;/span&gt; knock offs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pondering? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Is it 4pm yet? Why am I hungry? What am I going to cook for dinner? Is it 4pm yet?  Why did everyone but me get to go on the office "field trip" today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;reading?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;em&gt;All I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten.&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt;, I haven't been doing as much person reading as I'd like.  I've been so busy reading all of my students required reading (&lt;em&gt;Lord of the Flies,&lt;/em&gt; etc.) to read anything for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dreaming?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Of starting a family.  Having 4 become 5.  Being debt free.  Being free to travel.  of retirement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;eating?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;     &lt;/strong&gt;Nothing at the moment.  I did meet my secretary for our usual Friday @2pm chocolate break.  I had a mini Baby Ruth and she had a mini Snickers.  We chatted and put off real work, if only for a couple of minutes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-7075261800777152431?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7075261800777152431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=7075261800777152431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/7075261800777152431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/7075261800777152431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/04/what-are-you.html' title='What Are You...'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-5079211714037802901</id><published>2007-04-23T11:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T07:18:08.284-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ayron's Second Wife</title><content type='html'>This topic was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;chosen&lt;/span&gt; by K, and I'll admit right now that I wouldn't have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chosen&lt;/span&gt; this topic. It will be a struggle for me to actually formulate an answer. Be assured that I worked and thought about this post for over a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you were to die, which of your friends would you want &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; to marry? Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking about this topic for awhile. Somehow I knew that K would choose this one. I can't say that I can pick one of my friends. I like different things about different people. So I'm going to choose different traits from all my friends and use them to create the perfect wife for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; is such a dynamic person that choosing someone just wouldn't work.  To be perfectly honest, I hope this situation never comes true, but if it does....I think I'd rather him marry someone I don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L: For her fun loving attitude&lt;br /&gt;K: She would appreciate him. She constantly tells me how "sweet" he is, etc.  She would also make sure the bills got paid on time.&lt;br /&gt;C: For her love of children.  She would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;accept&lt;/span&gt; my children as her own and help them grow into fine beings.&lt;br /&gt;N: For her practical smarts. &lt;br /&gt;N2: For her cooking ability.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ayron&lt;/span&gt; can cook, but this lady CAN COOK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what else to write and I feel like I didn't do a very good job at this challenge.  I will have to put more thought and effort into the next post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-5079211714037802901?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/5079211714037802901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=5079211714037802901&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/5079211714037802901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/5079211714037802901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/04/ayrons-second-wife.html' title='Ayron&apos;s Second Wife'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-2461600091932541863</id><published>2007-04-10T08:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T14:16:55.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendship Is...</title><content type='html'>Friendship is narrow term for a broad topic&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a venting resource&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a shoulder to cry on when things go wrong&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a partner to celebrate with when things go right&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a hug after 5 years of separation&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is an answered phone call at 3 am&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is someone to chat with when the work day is long&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a security blanket&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a car ride to no place in particular&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a walk around the block&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;kool&lt;/span&gt;-aid mix that should always be stirred&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a vow of love for life&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is someone to watch old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Disney&lt;/span&gt; concerts with&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is someone to share you dreams with, no matter how silly&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is remembering times gone by&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a first kiss&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is the combining of two hearts&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is knowing when to say no, and being comfortable doing so&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bassett&lt;/span&gt; hound, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;daschund&lt;/span&gt;, and boxer&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a hand to hold&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is a McDonald's lunch after a funeral&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is saying "I Do"&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is everlasting&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-2461600091932541863?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2461600091932541863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=2461600091932541863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/2461600091932541863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/2461600091932541863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/04/friendship-is.html' title='Friendship Is...'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1987117184020823547.post-7532843077384801326</id><published>2007-04-10T08:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T08:52:01.925-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What the....???</title><content type='html'>DISCLAIMER: The blog posts that will follow are not intended to offend anyone.  The thoughts, feelings, and words expressed in this blog are that of it's creator, me.   If you wish to "borrow" my material, I ask that you link to it through your site.  No trolls, please, they are scary little creatures who need to put on some clothes and comb their hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BACKGROUND: I have decided to start another blog for a couple of different reasons.  I feel these reasons need to be made known so that the blog will make sense to you outsiders.  Here are my reasons behind this blog.&lt;br /&gt;      1.) I like to blog and I like to read other blogs.&lt;br /&gt;      2.) I wish I had more time to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;creatively&lt;/span&gt; write.&lt;br /&gt;      3.) This is a way to keep in touch with friends in a creative manner.&lt;br /&gt;      4.) I was inspired by K, who started this idea with another friend, but together we've decided&lt;br /&gt;            to take it public and in a different manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The posts that will appear on this blog are a form of creative &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;journaling&lt;/span&gt;.  The journal topics came from various sources but were combined to help two friends reconnect with connecting with the rest of the creative community.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1987117184020823547-7532843077384801326?l=amracjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7532843077384801326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1987117184020823547&amp;postID=7532843077384801326&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/7532843077384801326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1987117184020823547/posts/default/7532843077384801326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://amracjournal.blogspot.com/2007/04/what.html' title='What the....???'/><author><name>Carma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16789262996617968235</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WL34zLQSkwQ/TxWkSnEGH0I/AAAAAAAABW0/0RcuQ7FZ00E/s220/Kids%2Bbefore%2Bchurch%2Bon%2B1-7-12.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
