<?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-20108906</id><updated>2012-01-22T18:34:09.717-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insert Witty Title Here</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>134</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-4725965005086123873</id><published>2007-10-02T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T13:50:35.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy $hit, She's Blogging Again!</title><content type='html'>I've been so B-O-R-E-D lately, and have chosen not to pass that boredom onto you, faithful readership of 4, maybe 5 on a good day, but I finally have something to post.  It's a Meme that I read over at Tam's who got it from &lt;a href="http://rightlyepitomized.blogspot.com/"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;.  A Meme to me is kind of like a survey, which anyone who is my MySpace friend, knows that I can't resist!  So here goes nothing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four Jobs I've Had:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bill Collector&lt;/em&gt; - It started as a part time job in high school at Limited Credit Services.  After your training period in "New Accounts" (instant credit was just becoming popular, you could swipe your major credit card at any Limited, Express, Bath and Body Works, Lane Bryant store and get "instantly approved" or the associate would have to call us and give us some basic info off the customers drivers license, then get the "instant approval") you were given the choice of Customer Service or Collections.  I'm just not much of a customer service person, so I chose collections.  It was a fun couple of years and pretty good money compared to fast food.  After I left Limited Credit Services during my freshman year of college, I continued at Discover Card.  Same shit, different desk.  I've gone back to collections as an "in between job" several times and have collected on everything from credit cards to bounced checks to cars.  I would recommend this type of job to anyone starting out in the job market, the pay is decent and often incentive based, and you will actually learn usable skills like how to not sound like an idiot on the phone, reasoning with people dumber than you, and basic math.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Daycare Worker&lt;/em&gt; - I was 19 and I lasted for 4 days, one of which was out of the center training.  On Thursday when I came home and called a two year girl a bitch for spreading mulch on the floor, I knew I didn't need to ever go back to that place again.  And, people, they let me have my child after that!  To this day, if you tell me that you're in the child care business, I know that you're crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ice Cream Shop Employee&lt;/em&gt; - I think every pre-teen girl had this job.  Mine was at a place called the Dairy Hut.  I swear the place was no bigger than my bedroom and we usually had 3 or 4 girls working.  Our manager was the owner's 16 year daughter who spent the whole time on the payphone or out back smoking cigarettes.  She was awesome!  Sometimes the job was really fun, like when it was raining and we would sit on buckets and eat hot fudge.  Sometimes the job sucked like when the Little League teams would bombard us and I would end up making 55 Blizzards in a row.  I made $3 an hour, I rode my bike to work, and it was time that my pre-teen-ness needed away from the 'rents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bartending&lt;/em&gt; - I was going to put in my current job, but I don't have a title and can't really describe it, so...  I was going to put in Retail, but we've all worked it before and know how much it sucks, so....  Bartending it is.  I started bartending shortly after I had Emily.  Jer's sister, Allison, had this twice a week gig at the local bowling alley that basically involved opening a few dozen beer bottles a night and maybe making some cash while walking off that extra baby weight.  She was quitting, and she convinced the manager to hire me in her place.  It was fun while it lasted, but I'm not "from" that town and I don't sleep around with the patrons, so I didn't stay too long.  I then proceeded to bartend at the local biker bar for a few weekends.  Again, I wouldn't sleep with the patrons, so the slutty manager/owner "let me go".  Finally, I worked at this joint in town where you could still get a Black Velvet on the rocks for $1.95.  My 10 male customers every night would sit and order these until 3 a.m. and then proceed to leave me the nickel on every drink.  That is, unless they decided to use the nickels towards the end of the night to purchase "just one more" and I would end up with nothing.  After three nights of making less than $20 in a 10 hour shift and watching the owners get so trashed that they would sleep on the pool tables - I told them to shove it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe more tomorrow....One never knows!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-4725965005086123873?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/4725965005086123873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=4725965005086123873&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/4725965005086123873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/4725965005086123873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/10/holy-hit-shes-blogging-again.html' title='Holy $hit, She&apos;s Blogging Again!'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-3096343614198103522</id><published>2007-07-12T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T07:27:14.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life with Emily</title><content type='html'>I know, it's not my house, or my kid, but it could very well be!  If you ever want to know what living with a three year old is like, check &lt;a href="http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/07_11_2007.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thanks again &lt;a href="http://www.kristenbloeser.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kristen&lt;/a&gt; for introducing me to this website, I love it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-3096343614198103522?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/3096343614198103522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=3096343614198103522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/3096343614198103522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/3096343614198103522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/07/life-with-emily.html' title='Life with Emily'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-6557368838199233710</id><published>2007-07-12T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T06:12:02.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick Eyes</title><content type='html'>And now we have "sick eyes".  The kind that water all day long and then goopy stuff comes out.  Help!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-6557368838199233710?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/6557368838199233710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=6557368838199233710&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6557368838199233710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6557368838199233710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/07/sick-eyes.html' title='Sick Eyes'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-3769498938774299980</id><published>2007-07-11T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T06:26:08.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Week that Never Ends</title><content type='html'>After the impromptu Wednesday off last week for the 4th, this week has been dragging.  And dragging.  And dragging.  Emily and I both picked up a little cold, probably due to swimming in the rain.  Fun, yes, but probably not the best idea.  I find it hard to believe how many colds we've had in the past two years.  I really thought that moving to a warmer climate would mean less sickness, but I don't know if it's daycare or South Florida germs, but it feels like at least once a month or so, we're sick.  And it's the kind of sick that really sucks.  The kind that you still have to get up to go to work and school because it's not that bad during the day, but then you suffer all night with a cough and stuffy head.  My throat was sore again this morning which usually indicates the beginning for me, but I've already been sick for 5 days!  ARGH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Emily forgot her juice this morning, so we had to stop at the gas station and buy her something to drink.  She's sick, she needs her fluids!  I decided to avoid the regular gas station because 1.)  it's always crowded  2.)  they have a donut station that Emily can't seem to stay away from.  That was a big mistake.  I pull into the other gas station and hop out.  Emily decides on Strawberry milk, I decide on a Sugar Free Redbull.  And, we split a small package of donuts.  The strawberry milk was in a glass jar, so I poured it into a styrofoam cup.  I went up to pay and the cashiers informs me that I'm going to have to pay for a 20 oz soda since I used the cup.  Huh?  Can't they just charge me a quarter or something?  Nope.  So, our total comes to $5.55.  I swipe my card, the machine says Thank You and I start to leave.  She tells me that I have to wait for her machine to say it's ok.  Alrighty.  A minute or two passes.  I'm still waiting. Finally, she decides that I need to reswipe my card.  I don't like that, and I'm still positive it's going to show up on my card.  This time, it goes through immediately.  For the WRONG amount!  I'm standing there waiting on her to figure out what to do and she decides that she needs to void out the transaction and rering it.  No way.  Finally, she gives me some cash back and we're on our way.  It took a total of 14 minutes.  I hate mornings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-3769498938774299980?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/3769498938774299980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=3769498938774299980&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/3769498938774299980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/3769498938774299980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/07/week-that-never-ends.html' title='The Week that Never Ends'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-7455332468736361861</id><published>2007-07-09T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T08:30:33.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Emily turned the big “3” on Saturday July 7th, 2007.  Quoted as the “luckiest” day on earth, but I think they missed the mark by a few years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What feels like yesterday, I was holding this tiny, purple (are you sure she isn’t black? asked Jeremy a few minutes after she was born) baby with a black mohawk for hair.  I remember standing on my front stoop at our tiny apartment in Jefferson, OH in the blazing heat the day after I brought her home from the hospital.  All of our friends drove by on their way out of town, loaded up in “Regina”, not knowing that it would be her final trip to the Hills, and for most of them, their final trip too.  They honked and waved and all of the sudden I was filled with this strange feeling.  I didn’t want to go camping and boozing for the weekend.  I wanted to stay home and get to know this little new person.  Weird.   Jamboree in the Hills and Emily will always be linked.  I met Jeremy at JITH 2003, and Emily was born the weekend before JITH 2004.  Yep, we moved quickly, but when you know, you know, or something like that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, back to Emily.  Now, she is in “pre-school”.  Almost 3 ½ foot tall, big enough to ride in a “pink seat”, blond hair that needs regular haircuts, big blue eyes that aren’t quite the same color as his, but share the inability to hide their emotions.  A love for the outdoors and animals, and little patience for a slower pace.  Attitude from here to there and back again, full of energy and words that never seem to stop tumbling out.  Sometimes all I wish for is a minute of peace and quiet, then when I finally get it, I can’t wait for her to wake up or come home so I can hear what she’s thinking about again.  It might be monsters.  Or hotdogs.  Or Dora.  You never know with my muffin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No longer do we have the simple debates regarding temperature of the bottle or what brand of diapers to buy.  Now, we have to discuss the “real” stuff like what preschool to send her to.  Is it important for her to learn at the age of three or to play for another year?  Is she really smarter than the average kid, or is it just because love makes you blind?  Or, what is the best way to discipline her.  I don’t want to break her spirit, but at what point will she learn to use utensils properly?  I can’t handle her feeding herself with her hands for much longer! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the hardest thing for me is going to be the realization that she’s her own person now.  I’ve had a doll to play with, but that doll is starting to have her own likes and dislikes and she makes them known!  At night, I can still put her to bed and she’ll stay put and listen to stories and songs as long as I can perform.  But one night, she’ll be too big for backrubs and the Itsy Bitsy Spider.  She’s already starting to direct the performance.  It’s her choice what books we read, how many, what songs we sing, what order.  I can only hope my final curtain call doesn’t come for years and years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still feel a pang of jealousy when I hear others talk about their weekends with friends and food and liquor and concerts and the beach and bikinis.  But, then I realize that they didn’t get to spend 07/07/07 – the luckiest day – watching Emily finally conquer the “big kids” tunnel at Chuck E Cheese and they totally missed the smile on her face as she emerged at the end, 20 feet up in the air, and they didn’t get to hear her yell “Momma, I did it!”  That one was mine.  All mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-7455332468736361861?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/7455332468736361861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=7455332468736361861&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/7455332468736361861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/7455332468736361861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/07/emily-turned-big-3-on-saturday-july-7th.html' title=''/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-2670346145449143102</id><published>2007-07-09T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T07:55:15.718-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Test&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-2670346145449143102?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/2670346145449143102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=2670346145449143102&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/2670346145449143102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/2670346145449143102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/07/test.html' title=''/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-1642218553123168021</id><published>2007-06-13T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T23:03:58.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photo for Mommy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/RnDaLtsJBtI/AAAAAAAAADU/qwPhUZ1_h-Q/s1600-h/Emily+Sue+140.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075796674824701650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/RnDaLtsJBtI/AAAAAAAAADU/qwPhUZ1_h-Q/s400/Emily+Sue+140.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-1642218553123168021?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/1642218553123168021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=1642218553123168021&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/1642218553123168021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/1642218553123168021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/06/photo-for-mommy.html' title='Photo for Mommy'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/RnDaLtsJBtI/AAAAAAAAADU/qwPhUZ1_h-Q/s72-c/Emily+Sue+140.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-649418632594964854</id><published>2007-06-13T22:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T22:54:00.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Value Meal Killa</title><content type='html'>Today I got to thinking about FOOD, because FOOD is my favorite topic and I wondered, what is your favorite lunch?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of my readers (hi Kristen!) will name places I've never been in god-forsaken Ohio, but here's mine for what it's worth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.)  Yellow Tail - Fish Tacos - $9.95 - A lot of people get grossed out by the idea of fish tacos, but people, its really really good!  This restaurant makes them out of Mahi-Mahi which is a dry fish and I order them blackened (aka spicy).  They are served as nice slices of fish in a tortilla with a pico de gallo side and guacamole and sour cream.  Oh, and steak fries.  I love me some fries!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.)  Lazy Daze - Atkins Cheeseburger with Onion Straws -$8.00 - Another favorite local haunt, this place just screams at me JAMIE JAMIE JAMIE.  The prices are great, the cooks hook me up, it all works for me.  When I've had a particulary stressful (i.e. hungover) day, nothing hits the spot like a double cheeseburger (medium) on a bed of lettuce versus the bun and wonderful, wonderful onion, covered in mustard.  Oh, and Onion Straws.  I  love me some onion straws!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.)  Leftover Office Food - FREE! - Sometimes, in the nature of my job, I don't get to eat lunch until everyone else has ordered and done.  If I time it just right, I can hit the breakroom when all the skinny girls are just about done with their lunches and manage to get half a quesadilla, some fries, a little bit of fruit salad, and even some pudding or on a good day, chocolate cake- for FREE!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.)  Publix Sushi - $5 - A treat usually reserved for payday Fridays 'cause it's close to the bank and they make it fresh on Fridays.  Any Sushi lovers delight!  They will make whatever you want and charge you grocery store prices because 1.)  You're hot  2.)  Everyone there is older than you by 40 years  3.)  It's in the ghetto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.)  My leftovers are better than your leftovers - FREE - I'll admit it, I'm a pretty decent cook.  And my favorite lunch of all is the one that I remember to bring in from the night before and then I'm reminded at lunch time how spectaculary awesome I am!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, um, that's that.  When's lunch?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-649418632594964854?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/649418632594964854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=649418632594964854&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/649418632594964854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/649418632594964854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/06/value-meal-killa.html' title='Value Meal Killa'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-1988169432204290927</id><published>2007-06-13T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T22:38:28.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Public Walkways</title><content type='html'>As a nod to &lt;a href="http://www.kristenbloeser.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kristen &lt;/a&gt;and her recent issues with &lt;a href="http://kristenbloeser.blogspot.com/2007/06/public-transportation-adventure.html"&gt;public transportation&lt;/a&gt;, today, I found a pet peeve of my own. I was walking back from picking up my lunch at a restaurant a few doors down and these three woman were literally waddling back to their offices, taking up the entire sidewalk with their slow fat-woman walk and puffing on their cigarattes. Now, as a fat woman, somtimes smoker, I feel their need for an after lunch ciggy and I'm not a super fast walker in the 100 degree heat plus humidity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT - they acknowledged the fact that I was behind them with food in my hands, and they still didn't bother to move over!!! I finally had to step in to the busy downtown street to pass them and then they laughed and talked about me to my back. Bitches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-1988169432204290927?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/1988169432204290927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=1988169432204290927&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/1988169432204290927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/1988169432204290927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/06/public-walkways.html' title='Public Walkways'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-5125526497191663378</id><published>2007-06-11T09:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T10:01:44.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Has Anyone Seen This Child?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rm1-FtsJBsI/AAAAAAAAADM/N-xK1Ct9uJY/s1600-h/100_2100.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074850991745599170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rm1-FtsJBsI/AAAAAAAAADM/N-xK1Ct9uJY/s400/100_2100.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My little Emily has been in Ohio for the past week.  It must be cold there!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-5125526497191663378?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/5125526497191663378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=5125526497191663378&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/5125526497191663378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/5125526497191663378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/06/has-anyone-seen-this-child.html' title='Has Anyone Seen This Child?'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rm1-FtsJBsI/AAAAAAAAADM/N-xK1Ct9uJY/s72-c/100_2100.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-4440678397778479510</id><published>2007-06-11T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T09:51:57.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chili discussion cont...</title><content type='html'>A few months back, while reading &lt;a href="http://www.audientfiles.blogspot.com"&gt;Audient's&lt;/a&gt; blog, I was reminded of Wendy's Chili and what a value it was at 99 cents.  Well, I'm sad to report, the price has gone up to 1.09.  Still awesome with the Hot Chili Seasoning, but not as awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-4440678397778479510?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/4440678397778479510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=4440678397778479510&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/4440678397778479510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/4440678397778479510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/06/chili-discussion-cont.html' title='The Chili discussion cont...'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-6017386211342204565</id><published>2007-05-02T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T09:15:04.071-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Backyardigans</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rji48qrhv4I/AAAAAAAAADE/bmi2Q2kj7tA/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059997533739270018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rji48qrhv4I/AAAAAAAAADE/bmi2Q2kj7tA/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-6017386211342204565?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/6017386211342204565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=6017386211342204565&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6017386211342204565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6017386211342204565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/05/backyardigans.html' title='Backyardigans'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rji48qrhv4I/AAAAAAAAADE/bmi2Q2kj7tA/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-5975367223719498535</id><published>2007-05-01T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T06:44:35.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I smell like cheese and cats</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-5975367223719498535?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/5975367223719498535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=5975367223719498535&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/5975367223719498535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/5975367223719498535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-smell-like-cheese-and-cats.html' title='I smell like cheese and cats'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-1900441927557777643</id><published>2007-03-23T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T08:04:06.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Misc</title><content type='html'>Played in the "finals" last night for Poker.  Came in 3rd out of 40 people.  Top female finisher by about 10 spots I think (Julie, where did you finish?).  Won $45.  Sweet.  Cost me $10 in gas to get there, $25 bar tab, so I netted $10.  Lunch today will cost me $10, so I broke even I guess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss is really really sick and he keeps dragging his ass to work.  In sweatpants.  Smelling like corn tortillas.  You know, the "authentic" mexican food smell?  But, he's not Mexican.  I'm not sure what he has but I wish he'd stay home because if I get sick, it won't be pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgot to return movies to the store today, so I guess we'll be watching Borat tonight.  Chances are I'll sleep through it like I did the first time we attempted to watch in on Sunday.  It seems like a pretty sucky movie.  We also rented some other flick that I can't remember the name of, so maybe I'll watch that instead.  I want to say it is some third sequal to a blockbuster, and it's a new release?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted Mexican food for lunch today and now I just want to throw up.  Thanks, Gerald.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-1900441927557777643?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/1900441927557777643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=1900441927557777643&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/1900441927557777643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/1900441927557777643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/03/friday-misc.html' title='Friday Misc'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-3207854411280758114</id><published>2007-03-18T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T08:04:44.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>St Patty's Day - Nighttime</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1UpwwKnQI/AAAAAAAAACo/J4nWJtqx1rc/s1600-h/StPat2007+041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043280234163117314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1UpwwKnQI/AAAAAAAAACo/J4nWJtqx1rc/s400/StPat2007+041.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What?  A picture of me on the internet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1UqQwKnRI/AAAAAAAAACw/nP3zNIXZwxk/s1600-h/StPat2007+038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043280242753051922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1UqQwKnRI/AAAAAAAAACw/nP3zNIXZwxk/s400/StPat2007+038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Practicing the Bloeser photo trick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1UsgwKnSI/AAAAAAAAAC4/e-FfRSmdblg/s1600-h/StPat2007+032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043280281407757602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1UsgwKnSI/AAAAAAAAAC4/e-FfRSmdblg/s400/StPat2007+032.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1T1QwKnLI/AAAAAAAAACA/66Hg5r3oYeo/s1600-h/StPat2007+028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043279332219985074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1T1QwKnLI/AAAAAAAAACA/66Hg5r3oYeo/s400/StPat2007+028.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jaeger rules DUDE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1T3QwKnMI/AAAAAAAAACI/qSvBN8e-ILQ/s1600-h/StPat2007+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043279366579723458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1T3QwKnMI/AAAAAAAAACI/qSvBN8e-ILQ/s400/StPat2007+031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Curtis finally lets the truth serum do it's magic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1T4AwKnNI/AAAAAAAAACQ/L46kjGouQAY/s1600-h/StPat2007+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043279379464625362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1T4AwKnNI/AAAAAAAAACQ/L46kjGouQAY/s400/StPat2007+034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My what big ears you have!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1T4QwKnOI/AAAAAAAAACY/EDagaz83uss/s1600-h/StPat2007+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043279383759592674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1T4QwKnOI/AAAAAAAAACY/EDagaz83uss/s400/StPat2007+044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She watches your children for a living, be scared!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1T4wwKnPI/AAAAAAAAACg/rb-5BbLiGj4/s1600-h/StPat2007+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043279392349527282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1T4wwKnPI/AAAAAAAAACg/rb-5BbLiGj4/s400/StPat2007+052.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; $ Dave and his ladies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-3207854411280758114?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/3207854411280758114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=3207854411280758114&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/3207854411280758114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/3207854411280758114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/03/st-pattys-day-nighttime.html' title='St Patty&apos;s Day - Nighttime'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1UpwwKnQI/AAAAAAAAACo/J4nWJtqx1rc/s72-c/StPat2007+041.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-9109771712993569190</id><published>2007-03-18T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T07:55:44.692-07:00</updated><title type='text'>St Patty's 2007 - Daytime</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1ShgwKnHI/AAAAAAAAABg/adWoU_fDqI0/s1600-h/StPat2007+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043277893405940850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1ShgwKnHI/AAAAAAAAABg/adWoU_fDqI0/s400/StPat2007+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm ready, let's go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1SiAwKnII/AAAAAAAAABo/lNcWXRlrjw0/s1600-h/StPat2007+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043277901995875458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1SiAwKnII/AAAAAAAAABo/lNcWXRlrjw0/s400/StPat2007+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Watching the Irish  Dancers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1SiwwKnJI/AAAAAAAAABw/dGkfYqq4ia0/s1600-h/StPat2007+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043277914880777362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1SiwwKnJI/AAAAAAAAABw/dGkfYqq4ia0/s400/StPat2007+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'll give you a kiss Daddy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1SjQwKnKI/AAAAAAAAAB4/QUP4VIFZ67U/s1600-h/StPat2007+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043277923470711970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1SjQwKnKI/AAAAAAAAAB4/QUP4VIFZ67U/s400/StPat2007+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I don't really like Corn Beef!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-9109771712993569190?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/9109771712993569190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=9109771712993569190&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/9109771712993569190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/9109771712993569190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/03/st-pattys-2007-daytime.html' title='St Patty&apos;s 2007 - Daytime'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rf1ShgwKnHI/AAAAAAAAABg/adWoU_fDqI0/s72-c/StPat2007+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-6860894899790511880</id><published>2007-03-15T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T06:51:30.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Double Shot</title><content type='html'>Whew!  I had one of those Starbucks Double Shot Expresso and Cream drinks this morning from the gas station and now I feel like my world is spinning out of control!  I can't type fast enough, I can't stop talking and pacing the hallways.  WHEEEEEE!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-6860894899790511880?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/6860894899790511880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=6860894899790511880&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6860894899790511880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6860894899790511880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/03/double-shot.html' title='Double Shot'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-8059813100188028629</id><published>2007-03-07T08:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T08:09:57.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Note to Self</title><content type='html'>Although Taco Bell sounds so good, it will remain with you the entire next day.  And that's not good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-8059813100188028629?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/8059813100188028629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=8059813100188028629&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/8059813100188028629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/8059813100188028629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/03/note-to-self.html' title='Note to Self'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-6287720588269159112</id><published>2007-03-05T07:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T08:05:00.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flat Tires, Beeping Smoke Alarms, and Ingrown Toenails</title><content type='html'>I hate Blogger, it always eats my posts, so this is it's last shot before I'm forced to switch to something else!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Flat Tires:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy had three flat tires this weekend! He drives a tiny little car, so when the front tire went flat at 75 mph on I95, I'm sure he had to be scared! He pulled over, quickly mounted the spare tire, and was off. Later that night, the spare went flat. He was forced to leave the car on the side of the road and catch a ride with friends. Sunday morning, he had the tire replaced, and we drove out to PSL and changed it. Again. The afternoon actually turned out pretty well, because I'm always looking for an excuse to check out a part of town that I'm not familiar with and eat at a new restaurant. This week it was Chuck E Cheese. Hey, don't knock it, it was fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Beeping Smoke Alarms:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ginaventre.blogspot.com"&gt;Gina&lt;/a&gt; wrote a &lt;a href="http://ginaventre.blogspot.com/2007/02/beep-or-parable-of-gina-needlessly.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; a few weeks ago regarding her smoke alarm that started beeping due to a low battery in the middle of the night. It reminded me that some of mine were due for a battery change, but as is my nature, I never did it. Last night, the one in the hallway that can't be reached without a fire truck ladder (or so it seems) started up about 4:00 a.m. Every 15 minutes, or as soon as I would fall back asleep, it would beep again. Lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Ingrown Toenails:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to get a pedicure this weekend, because, well, I live in Florida and my toes are exposed all the time, so monthly pedicures must be worked into the budget. I went to this new place that I tried once before when I had a coupon. I like this place because it's never crowded, and the owner will normally put on cartoons which really helps occupy the ever present two year old. I won't be going back after this visit though. I don't like when they cut my cuticles, I would rather have them pushed back, and I usually push them back before I go just to avoid this whole dilemna. This girl decided to not only cut away my cuticles making a few of them bleed! but then took it upon herself to dig at my big toe in search of an ingrown toenail. That toenail has been ingrown my whole life, I don't care! Leave it alone! Now it is all red and hurts really bad. And I let Emily pick out the color and I don't really like it. Blech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, thats my whole boring weekend in one boring post. Yay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-6287720588269159112?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/6287720588269159112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=6287720588269159112&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6287720588269159112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6287720588269159112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/03/flat-tires-beeping-smoke-alarms-and.html' title='Flat Tires, Beeping Smoke Alarms, and Ingrown Toenails'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-6586338850952677762</id><published>2007-02-07T17:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T17:31:33.258-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sephia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp9C4OQMiI/AAAAAAAAABA/TgXF3Q3gZPI/s1600-h/January+051_edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028969422317957666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp9C4OQMiI/AAAAAAAAABA/TgXF3Q3gZPI/s400/January+051_edited.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp84YOQMhI/AAAAAAAAAA4/b2HY5JHA9IQ/s1600-h/January+050_edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028969241929331218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp84YOQMhI/AAAAAAAAAA4/b2HY5JHA9IQ/s400/January+050_edited.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp8vYOQMgI/AAAAAAAAAAw/-hRzPOPQv_s/s1600-h/January+048_edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028969087310508546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp8vYOQMgI/AAAAAAAAAAw/-hRzPOPQv_s/s400/January+048_edited.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These pictures are taken on my new Kodak 10X Zoom, 7.1 Megapixel which was a Christmas present from the in-laws - thanks again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They are unedited except for a little cropping.  I love this camera! (and this baby!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-6586338850952677762?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/6586338850952677762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=6586338850952677762&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6586338850952677762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6586338850952677762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/02/sephia.html' title='Sephia'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp9C4OQMiI/AAAAAAAAABA/TgXF3Q3gZPI/s72-c/January+051_edited.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-6683139390088912772</id><published>2007-02-07T17:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T17:27:25.171-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Black and White</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp8MIOQMeI/AAAAAAAAAAU/8uAJtPh-SeM/s1600-h/January+046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028968481720119778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp8MIOQMeI/AAAAAAAAAAU/8uAJtPh-SeM/s400/January+046.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp8V4OQMfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/fImhUaaptDo/s1600-h/January+047_edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028968649223844338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp8V4OQMfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/fImhUaaptDo/s400/January+047_edited.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp7-oOQMdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/e_q8boXLW6Q/s1600-h/January+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028968249791885778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp7-oOQMdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/e_q8boXLW6Q/s400/January+045.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-6683139390088912772?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/6683139390088912772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=6683139390088912772&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6683139390088912772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/6683139390088912772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/02/black-and-white.html' title='Black and White'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DlwCDTJKRis/Rcp8MIOQMeI/AAAAAAAAAAU/8uAJtPh-SeM/s72-c/January+046.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-2407297067657369935</id><published>2007-01-29T12:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T12:34:42.748-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Test</title><content type='html'>Test - because the Google Beta or whatever you want to call it SUCKS&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-2407297067657369935?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/2407297067657369935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=2407297067657369935&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/2407297067657369935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/2407297067657369935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/01/test.html' title='Test'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-2605046794755247424</id><published>2007-01-25T06:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T06:38:22.453-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Text Messages</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-2605046794755247424?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/2605046794755247424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=2605046794755247424&amp;isPopup=true' title='66 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/2605046794755247424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/2605046794755247424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/01/text-messages.html' title='Text Messages'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>66</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116845718742324051</id><published>2007-01-10T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T11:26:27.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OSU Game</title><content type='html'>The game was made for us when Emily started yelling O-H O-H O-H after the first drive that led to a touchdown.  Who cares if we lost, Emily is still cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/1600/248195/Emilyannie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/400/692860/Emilyannie.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/1600/49913/emilycheerleader.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/400/803769/emilycheerleader.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/1600/647876/Annie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/400/205200/Annie.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116845718742324051?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116845718742324051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116845718742324051&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116845718742324051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116845718742324051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/01/osu-game.html' title='OSU Game'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116845687103196067</id><published>2007-01-10T11:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T11:21:11.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beach and PaPa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/1600/785948/Emilyswing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/400/484576/Emilyswing.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/1600/564290/emilybeach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/400/355984/emilybeach.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/1600/900017/Emilypapa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/400/824191/Emilypapa.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/1600/580875/Jeremydavid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/400/836288/Jeremydavid.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116845687103196067?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116845687103196067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116845687103196067&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116845687103196067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116845687103196067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/01/beach-and-papa.html' title='The Beach and PaPa'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116827988372255515</id><published>2007-01-08T10:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T10:11:23.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Post It Notes</title><content type='html'>I love post it notes.  I'm looking at one right now on the side of my computer that I wish I could scan and post.  It's got numbers all over it, and I think some are phone numbers, and some are numbers about my car, and the others are numbers related to some transaction at work.  It's in three different color inks, and written in different directions.  I am keeping the note because I'm pretty sure that one of the numbers is important, but I don't know which one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend was great!  It has been really warm here (as is most of the rest of the country), so we spent most of our weekend outdoors.  Friday night we went to the Friday Fest in downtown Ft Pierce, and I wish that they would move it out of the park and back to the river front because it's roomier, easy to navigate and the bugs aren't as bad!  Saturday, Miss Emily came home and we had a lovely steak dinner.  Sunday, we crammed an entire summer day into a few hours complete with breakfast on the beach, playing in the park, and then the afternoon at the ocean building sandcastles and watching the kite surfers.  Those guys are crazy!  We ended the evening at a local dive eating hamburgers under the stars and listening to motorcycles and the band.  We taught Emily to tell all the Gator fans O-H and everyone was pretty good humored about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big game tonight - Go BUCKS&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116827988372255515?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116827988372255515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116827988372255515&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116827988372255515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116827988372255515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/01/post-it-notes.html' title='Post It Notes'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116793332310881992</id><published>2007-01-04T09:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T09:55:23.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Florida in January</title><content type='html'>Maybe it's because I just got back from the desolate gray of NorthEast Ohio, but the Treasure Coast sure proved it's name today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had lunch at my favorite "splurge" spot called PB Cobb.  It sits right on the Intercoastal waterway and when you sit outside, you sit next to the million dollar yachts.  I had their speciality cobb salad with blue cheese dressing and read the first few pages of Anna Karenina.  The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing and they had an old Jimmy Buffet concert from Riverbend in Cincinnati, OH playing in the background.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really hard to be back in the office right now.  Living in Florida just isn't the same as visiting...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116793332310881992?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116793332310881992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116793332310881992&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116793332310881992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116793332310881992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/01/florida-in-january.html' title='Florida in January'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116776194594001327</id><published>2007-01-02T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T10:19:05.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Proof is in the Pictures</title><content type='html'>As mentioned in &lt;a href="http://www.kristenbloeser.blogspot.com"&gt;Kristen's&lt;/a&gt; blog, all of the pictures from our trip to Cleveland on the 29th were magically erased. Somehow, &lt;a href="http://www.annedechant.blogspot.com"&gt;Anne&lt;/a&gt; got ahold of few, but my face is still a mystery!  We made it home from our pilgrimage to Ohio, and pretty unscathed.  Boring details follow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a very uneventful 19 hour drive (which was pretty amazing considering it rained the entire time, got progressively colder, and we were traveling with a 2 year old and a Golden Retriever) - we arrived at our destination (Jefferson, OH) at approximately 6:30 p.m. on Saturday night.  Saturday night was spent visiting the family and then visiting some friends and the Galley and then Jefferson Lanes - that's right folks, the bowling alley is the only bar in town these days I guess!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were reserved for some last minute shopping, wrapping and then an EXPLOSION of gifts on Christmas morning.  So many gifts in fact, that Emily needed a breakfast break AND a nap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next few days were kind of a blur, as most of the mid-week is during a vacation.  Some shopping, some eating, some napping, some visiting with friends and family (including a lovely dinner of wings and beer with Mike, Karen and Otto).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And suddenly, we were down to the last 2 days of our trip.  We spent the first night in Cleveland with the lovely Kristen and her midget boyfriend Ray, who failed to mention the story of her telling off the girl wearing the headband on her forehead.  I was not really embarrassed as much as I was scared of getting shot or chased onto Lee Rd.  The evening ended with some fried food and organic Oreo's and milk.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night, we went out to dinner with the family and then to a garage party with some of Jeremy's high school buddies.  I find it hard to believe that Friday night I hung out with some folks that I only knew in passing and had a hard time fitting a word in edgewise and Saturday night I hung out with people that I've known for a few years and Jeremy has known his entire life, and was bored within an hour.  I guess discussing high school in great depth is only fun if you were actually THERE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some homemade French toast, we hit the road again sans child.  She will return with PaPa on Saturday night so our bachelor days continue for a few more.  We managed to find a random party in St George, SC and if I get motivated, I'll make that into a post of itself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, thanks for the lovely gifts and the lovely hosting of our bodies over the last 10 days - but I sure am glad to be back in sandals and my own bed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116776194594001327?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116776194594001327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116776194594001327&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116776194594001327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116776194594001327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/01/proof-is-in-pictures.html' title='The Proof is in the Pictures'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116774973069531654</id><published>2007-01-02T06:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T06:55:30.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>And Michigan still sucks!  WOOT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116774973069531654?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116774973069531654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116774973069531654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116774973069531654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116774973069531654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2007/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116680252465640417</id><published>2006-12-22T07:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T07:48:44.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is your birthday blog!</title><content type='html'>Wow!  It seems like everyone's blog is having a birthday, including mine!  We must have all gotten bored the week before Christmas last year too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My retrospective won't be as good as others because 1.)  I'm not a writer  2.)  I'm leaving for vacation as soon as my paycheck gets here  3.)  My blog is pretty boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My &lt;a href="http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2005/12/sand-is-white-too.html"&gt;first post&lt;/a&gt; was about the big change in our life, moving to Florida!  Now, one year later, I am getting ready to visit Ohio for the first time.  I still don't miss snow - not even for a minute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep hearing a lot about this Festivus, but I don't understand what it is or it's origins, so if you know and can explain it to me before Saturday night - I'd appreciate it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116680252465640417?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116680252465640417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116680252465640417&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116680252465640417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116680252465640417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/12/today-is-your-birthday-blog.html' title='Today is your birthday blog!'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116671639075303521</id><published>2006-12-21T07:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T07:53:10.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi!</title><content type='html'>Hi Julie aka "Queen of Harpers"!  Did you find your way to the current entries yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  Stay off the strip poker porn sites, they're bad for your health!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116671639075303521?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116671639075303521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116671639075303521&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116671639075303521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116671639075303521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/12/hi.html' title='Hi!'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116663168551961157</id><published>2006-12-20T08:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T08:21:26.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>444 Profile Views and other Misc</title><content type='html'>I had cookies for breakfast again.  I gotta stop this cycle soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had cookies for breakfast because I locked Emily in the car again.  I gotta stop this cycle soon too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, seriously, I think I have a problem.  Today made 2 out of 3 years of Emily's life that I've locked her in the car the week before Christmas.  The first time, she was almost 6 months old and she was in her little seat in the middle of my Grand Prix.  I had gone shopping with the Park family, and somehow while we were unloading everything, the doors got locked.  It was cold (because it was Ohio), and she was actually asleep through most of the ordeal.  When she did wake up, we were almost done, and I remember her crying and I remember having Allison running inside to make a bottle so we could feed her the minute she got out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, it happened in front of her daycare.  I knew it was going to happen because the new Jeep I bought has the locks that automatically lock when you hit a certain speed.  And when you open the door, only the door opened unlocks.  And, the lock sits right where your damn elbow sits, so it gets locked almost constantly while getting out of the car.  I am still trying to get in the habit of unlocking all the doors when I stop, but apparently, I'm still learning!  Anyway, she's ok, it took about 30 minutes to get her out (5 once the locksmith arrived - and he didn't even charge me MERRY CHRISTMAS!)  She had a glass of water and went to school like nothing happened.  Kids are resilient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's off to find out how to get an extra key...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116663168551961157?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116663168551961157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116663168551961157&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116663168551961157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116663168551961157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/12/444-profile-views-and-other-misc.html' title='444 Profile Views and other Misc'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116647488062468380</id><published>2006-12-18T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T12:48:00.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things on my Mind</title><content type='html'>"Stolen" from &lt;a href="http://www.ginaschon.blogspot.com"&gt;Gina&lt;/a&gt;, and you can trace the chain from there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nagging headache, aching back and developing cough. I am slowly falling apart, and I don't like it one bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoops!  My fax didn't go through.  Be right back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that everytime I tell a story at work, someone has to one up me?  I was in the middle of this great story about the time that Olive Garden burned to the ground during my 17th birthday party and then my co-worker has to tell a story about melted butter causing a flash fire in the kitchen of a restaurant he used to manage.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I would have thought of that gift for Jeremy's dad a few weeks ago.  Ebay is CRAZY right now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyebrows are uneven and I can't seem to fix them myself or with professional help.  When someone asks me what is the first thing that I notice about other people, I always want to answer "their eyebrows" because it's true, but I don't because I don't want to be labeled the weird one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to ask to go home early today, but I won't do it because I have too much work ethic and know that I will feel better about sitting here blogging on company time instead of going home and taking a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 80 degrees and sunny.  Are you sure Christmas is next week?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily picks her nose and sometimes I catch myself doing it too.  Did she learn it from me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great!  The fax went through...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116647488062468380?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116647488062468380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116647488062468380&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116647488062468380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116647488062468380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/12/things-on-my-mind.html' title='Things on my Mind'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116645785034562654</id><published>2006-12-18T08:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T08:04:10.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reason #9 that going back to work Full Time is good</title><content type='html'>#9  Mrs Fields cookies arriving with the morning UPS shipment from one of our vendors &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing like mini triple chocolate cookies for breakfast!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116645785034562654?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116645785034562654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116645785034562654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116645785034562654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116645785034562654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/12/reason-9-that-going-back-to-work-full.html' title='Reason #9 that going back to work Full Time is good'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116611291395032865</id><published>2006-12-14T07:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T08:15:14.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life Test Results</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.kristenbloeser.blogspot.com"&gt;Kristen&lt;/a&gt; posted her results with an analysis, so I've decided to follow suit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quiz was one of the first posted, and my answers are not ambiguous like some of our fellow quizzers have been accused of.  It's either right or wrong.  You know me, or in some &lt;a href="http://www.testriffic.com/user/scoreboard.php?u=jamiescrawford&amp;t=877569"&gt;cases&lt;/a&gt;, you don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Where did Jeremy and I meet?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jamboree in the Hills&lt;/em&gt; - Everyone got this one correct (except Kristen, but then again, she doesn't even know that I only listen to Country Music, sooo....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When did we move to Florida?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;2005&lt;/em&gt; - 72% Correct!  &lt;a href="http://www.tulip.wordpress.com"&gt;Angela&lt;/a&gt; guessed 2003 which kind of makes me wonder if she's Hiro in disguise because I was still her neighbor in Columbus, OHIO for most of 2003...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is my brothers name?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Craig&lt;/em&gt; - just over 50% of you guessed that one correctly.  Maybe I should talk about him more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What do I do in Florida?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Boat/RV Finance&lt;/em&gt; - Since I typically describe my job as daycare for grown men, I'm not surprised that 1/3 of you missed it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is Emily's middle name?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sue&lt;/em&gt; - Really?  Does Emily Anne Park sound like a good name?  Say it out loud, you'll realize your mistake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My favorite type of music is?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Country&lt;/em&gt; - The two people who missed it have never really "met" me, so I forgive them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pick the name of the cat that I DIDN'T have...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Princess&lt;/em&gt; - This question wasn't to test if you remembered the names of my cats, because I don't even remember the name of your children or husbands most days, but more of a "do you know my personality type" question.  I would never in a million years name an animal Princess, &lt;a href="http://www.poycer.blogspot.com"&gt;Joyce&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jeremy's hometown is located closest to what city?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cleveland, OH&lt;/em&gt; - I can't blame the 30% of you that missed that question.  I once thought that Columbus, OH was "on the way" from Jefferson, OH to Wheeling, WV&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am a fan of what team?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ohio State Buckeyes&lt;/em&gt; - &lt;a href="http://audientfiles.blogspot.com"&gt;Audient&lt;/a&gt;, you should be ashamed of yourself!  I had no problem with you missing the other 7 questions, but really?  You think that somebody who is obviously cool would be a 'Nole?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I hope fun was had by all, and I enjoyed your quizzes much more than my own!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116611291395032865?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116611291395032865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116611291395032865&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116611291395032865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116611291395032865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/12/my-life-test-results.html' title='My Life Test Results'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116604480957585029</id><published>2006-12-13T12:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T07:36:39.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tips on Buying a Car</title><content type='html'>Since we just went through the process of buying a new used car, these ideas are fresh in my mind and I thought I would share with you...Some people are extremely intimidated by the process, but now, you don't have to be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEFORE YOU GO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have an "idea" of what you want vs what you need.&lt;/strong&gt;  For example, you know that you want an SUV and it must have 4 wheel drive and a V6.  But, are you flexible on the options?  Do you &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; leather seats?  If it doesn't have power windows and locks will you be happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have an "idea" of what you want to spend.&lt;/strong&gt;  Use on of the many free payment calculators available online and know what you can afford.  Play around with different terms, different interest rates and learn how the extra $1000 in taxes, dealer fees, registration, etc is going to reflect in the payments.  Consider pre-arranging financing so you can go in with a check.  Just be prepared that you do lose some bargaining in the price with that option, because dealers make money by obtaining financing.  It's called commission and they don't like when you bring your own money to the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do your research.&lt;/strong&gt;  Again, with the internet, information is available and it's fast and free.  Compare different models within the same make to see what Limited vs LX really means.  Compare similar makes to determine if perhaps the slightly less popular make can save you some cash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AT THE DEALERSHIP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you woke up this morning, checked out your favorite car buying website, and Whammo!  There. it. is.  It's what you wanted and more, it's in your price range and it's even your favorite color!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Be prepared to be there for &lt;em&gt;hours&lt;/em&gt;.  Bring a bottle of water.  Crayons for the kids.  Some aspirin.  A flask.  Whatever you need.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Go early.  Once the dealership starts getting busy, everything gets backed up from the finance desk to the detailer.&lt;br /&gt;3.  Eat.  It's hard to stay focused on the task at hand on an empty stomach.&lt;br /&gt;4.  Find a salesperson you like.  If you're a young couple and the old man makes you feel inferior at "hello", then tell him you're just looking and wait for the next guy.  Better yet, walk right into the dealership to the big desk in the front and ask for the sales manager.  Explain to them that you're here to buy a car and can they match you up with the right person?  &lt;br /&gt;5.  Drive the vehicle.  I know it sounds silly, but before you get wrapped up in details, make sure you like it.  It may look great on paper, but the minute you sit down, your knees start to hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FINANCE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a lot of people who hate this part of buying a car.  But, if you are prepared, it can be fun.  By this point, you've done your research, you know what you can afford, you know what you would be happy paying, you know what the vehicle is worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, its very common that negations skip over the salesperson and go right to the finance person.  They will ALWAYS present you with a full price scenario even though no one in their right mind is paying full price.  Take that opportunity to look at what fees they are charging and ask them what fees are negotiable.  For example, title fees.  Most dealerships finance it in.  Now, why would you finance $100 for 5 years when you could pay it out of pocket today or better yet, in 30 days when your tag comes in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;STRONG&gt;NOTE:  IF THE FINANCE PERSON WILL NOT SHOW YOU WHAT THE FEES ARE AND GIVE YOU A CLEAR EXPLANATION OF EXACTLY WHAT YOU ARE PAYING INCLUDING THE INTEREST RATE, THE VALUE OF YOUR TRADE, WHAT YOU ARE PAYING FOR THE NEW VEHICLE, ETC - DO NOT BUY THE VEHICLE.&lt;/STRONG&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you have a clear picture of what this vehicle is going to cost you.  It's time to start thinking about negotiations.  Save everyone some time and don't play games.  Take a few minutes to talk it over with your partner or to think it out without the salesperson/finance person staring your down.  Take your old car around the block if you have to just to get some space.  Figure out what you would be happy paying.  Not necessarily just in monthly payments, but overall.  Once you have that magic number - tell them.  Don't wiggle.  If they can do it, they will.  If they can't they won't and then you can decide if their best offer is good enough.  Here is a sample.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asking Price:  11,900&lt;br /&gt;Trade Value:   (1,500) *negative equity - this is not good, but it happens&lt;br /&gt;Dealer Fee:       600&lt;br /&gt;Taxes:            700&lt;br /&gt;Title Fee:        140&lt;br /&gt;TOTAL AMOUNT:   14,700 plus $1200 cash down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After your private moment, you decide that since Christmas is just days away, you would really like to save your cash, and you really hadn't intended on the value of your trade to be so far below what you owe.  So, you counteroffer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Price:        11,000&lt;br /&gt;Trade Value:  (1,500)&lt;br /&gt;Dealer Fee:      600&lt;br /&gt;Taxes:           700&lt;br /&gt;TOTAL AMOUNT:  13,800 plus title COD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice - this is a difference of $2100, or approximately a 15% reduction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As mentioned above, if the dealer can do it, he will, if not, he won't.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of the story is to know what you want to spend, and don't be afraid to voice your expectations and possibly even leave without the new car.  Wouldn't you rather be unhappy for a day then the next 5 years?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116604480957585029?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116604480957585029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116604480957585029&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116604480957585029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116604480957585029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/12/tips-on-buying-car.html' title='Tips on Buying a Car'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116586125855193532</id><published>2006-12-11T10:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T10:20:58.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've done it now</title><content type='html'>I've finally joined the ranks of suburban moms across the country.  Finally, I'll blend in with all of the other soccer moms and I won't ever be able to find my car at the mall again.  I am now the proud owner of a white SUV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I don't want anyone to think that I'm made of money, so I will disclose that its a 2002 Jeep Liberty with plenty of good miles left on it.  We are happy with the price paid and we don't have to make too many adjustments to our lifestyle, which is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are heading back to the land of the snow (NorthEast Ohio) in a few short days, so maybe Jeremy will get a chance to use that 4x4 afterall!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116586125855193532?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116586125855193532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116586125855193532&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116586125855193532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116586125855193532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/12/ive-done-it-now.html' title='I&apos;ve done it now'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116542770463056358</id><published>2006-12-06T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T12:28:48.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.testriffic.com/friendtest/877569"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.testriffic.com/friend/877569/2.gif" alt="Leaderboard" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.testriffic.com"&gt;&lt;br &gt;Create your own friendquiz here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116542770463056358?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116542770463056358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116542770463056358&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116542770463056358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116542770463056358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/12/my-life.html' title='My Life'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116533487414563652</id><published>2006-12-05T07:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T12:29:26.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Post #100</title><content type='html'>I've been debating what to write about on this all important Post #100, and I can't say that I've come up with anything good.  It's been almost a year since I started this blog, and honestly, I can't believe I've kept it up AND managed to post an average of twice a week.  I think I do it because I've always liked talking and I write just like I talk.  I spend most of my time browsing others blogs, and feel that I should keep mine sort of current, so that when I post comments on other people's blogs, they have something new to read.  Isn't that why we all do it?  All of us bloggers want to share our lives and be a part of others lives all at the same time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I still haven't figured out how to edit my sidebar, here are some of the blogs that I browse on a regular basis that keep me coming back to here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kristenbloeser.blogspot.com"&gt;Kristen&lt;/a&gt; - Can be counted on to post on a variety of topics, sometimes sparking comment debates that are better than anything else I've ever read, funny or serious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm nosy so I read a lot of Kristen's friends blogs and hope that they don't mind!  They include &lt;a href="http://www.audientfiles.blogspot.com"&gt;Audient&lt;/a&gt;, who does a Tuesday talkback that continously reminds me of how stupid people can be - and not just in Cleveland.  And through him, I've remembered how much I enjoy Wendy's chili.  I also browse &lt;a href="http://www.ginaschon.blogspot.com"&gt;Gina&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.sampsonplanb.blogspot.com"&gt;Brian&lt;/a&gt; who I gather are "writers".  I could spend hours in their archives reading their short stories, etc.  I always wanted to be a writer, but never followed through with it.  And, then there's &lt;a href="http://www.tambritianmatt.blogspot.com"&gt;Tam&lt;/a&gt;.  I like her blog because like myself, she is the mother of a young child too.  Plus, she is sarcastic as hell, and I love that!  I stalk the others too, including Melissa, Anne and Hiliary, but maybe not as prominently since I don't remember their addresses off the top of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside of my stalking group, I like to read about &lt;a href="http://www.service-rep.blogspot.com"&gt;Leroy's Adventures in Customer Service&lt;/a&gt;.  He is a customer service rep and always tell funny customer stories.  And, on the other side is a &lt;a href="http://www.customerdisservice.blogspot.com"&gt;customer who always seems to get bad service&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my reality TV fix, I visit &lt;a href="http://www.jackiestvblog.blogspot.com"&gt;Jackie&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have faith that my JITH friend &lt;a href="http://www.poycer.blogspot.com"&gt;Poycer&lt;/a&gt; will get her blog rolling and continue to entertain me with stories about her job as a college professor.&lt;a href="http://www.poycer.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's about it for Post #100.  Any bets on whether or not there will be a #200?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116533487414563652?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116533487414563652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116533487414563652&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116533487414563652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116533487414563652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/12/post-100.html' title='Post #100'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116489910987171864</id><published>2006-11-30T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-30T07:16:00.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's Science Lesson</title><content type='html'>As readers of my blog (Hi Mom) know, I'm a fan of science.  Living in South Florida has exposed me to all kinds of new critters over the last year.  See example &lt;a href="http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/08/its-baaaaaaacccckkkkk.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I found this on my front porch...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/1600/154043/untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6930/1998/400/982807/untitled.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's lesson is about Millipedes.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Millipedes (Class Diplopoda, previously also known as Chilognatha) are very elongated arthropods with cylindrical bodies that have two pairs of legs for each one of their 20 to 100 or more body segments (except for the first segment behind the head which does not have any appendages at all, and the next few which only have one pair of legs). Each segment that has two pairs of legs is a result of two single segments fused together as one. This class contains around 10,000 species. These animals are detritivores, slow and nonvenomous; unlike the somewhat similar and closely related centipedes (Class Chilopoda), which can be easily distinguished by their single pair of legs for each body segment. Most millipedes eat decaying leaves and other dead plant matter, moisturizing the food with secretions and then scraping it in with the jaws. However they can also be a minor garden pest, especially in greenhouses where they can cause severe damage to emergent seedlings. Signs of millipede damage include the stripping of the outer layers of a young plant stem and irregular damage to leaves and plant apices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This class of arthropods is thought to be among the first animals to colonize land during the Silurian geologic period. These early forms probably ate mosses and primitive vascular plants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, the very oldest known land animal, Pneumodesmus newmani, was a centimeter-long millipede.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116489910987171864?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116489910987171864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116489910987171864&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116489910987171864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116489910987171864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/11/todays-science-lesson.html' title='Today&apos;s Science Lesson'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116377436120424445</id><published>2006-11-17T06:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T06:39:23.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wild Weekend</title><content type='html'>How can anyone work or sleep?  Tomorrow is the BIG GAME.  #1 Ohio State versus #2 Michigan.  In addition, tomorrow, I am playing in the One Stop Poker Tour Regional Finals for $2500.  The tournament starts at 12 noon, the BIG GAME starts at 3:30 p.m.  I hope to still be in the middle of the poker tournament during the entire game, seeing how last season, it ended around 8 p.m.  It's all part of my strategy, to appear to be totally interested in the football game, but really paying attention to my cards.  I love OSU football, but I love $$$ even more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, Sunday, my mom and I are taking Emily to the Vero Beach festival of trees.  I've never been, but I hear it's very nice, and the weather is supposed to be awesome!  Then, we are cooking a Thanksgiving dinner since my parents are going to be out of town for the holiday.  Yummy, turkey : )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116377436120424445?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116377436120424445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116377436120424445&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116377436120424445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116377436120424445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/11/wild-weekend.html' title='Wild Weekend'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116370887116406081</id><published>2006-11-16T12:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T12:30:48.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Joke</title><content type='html'>A co-worker got a pen stuck inside our printer. He started to try and remove the pen, but I told him we don't have time for that now, just put a note on the printer telling folks not to use it and then report it to the Help Desk. So, he grabbed a piece of paper and scrawled on it. I left before he finished the note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 20 minutes later, one of my techs comes in laughing and says he was just in the lobby, saw a piece of paper on a printer and went to investigate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attached is what he found. Sometimes things don't always come out the way you want them to........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CLICK BELOW&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/untitled.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/untitled.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&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/20108906-116370887116406081?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116370887116406081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116370887116406081&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116370887116406081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116370887116406081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/11/little-joke.html' title='A Little Joke'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116364807988429634</id><published>2006-11-15T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:34:39.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bathtime Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/September%20175.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/September%20175.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/September%20161.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/September%20161.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/September%20164.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/September%20164.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was too busy at work to blog about the things I wanted to, but I did manage to relax a little and grab a few shots of Emily having fun with bubbles!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116364807988429634?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116364807988429634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116364807988429634&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116364807988429634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116364807988429634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/11/bathtime-fun.html' title='Bathtime Fun'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116316418429569765</id><published>2006-11-10T05:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T05:09:44.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Go Buckeyes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/September%20148.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/September%20148.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/September%20152_edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/September%20152_edited.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/September%20155_edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/September%20155_edited.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116316418429569765?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116316418429569765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116316418429569765&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116316418429569765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116316418429569765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/11/go-buckeyes.html' title='Go Buckeyes!'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116316396996702073</id><published>2006-11-10T05:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T05:06:10.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Pic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/September%20109_edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/September%20109_edited.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116316396996702073?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116316396996702073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116316396996702073&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116316396996702073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116316396996702073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/11/halloween-pic.html' title='Halloween Pic'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116310405135493484</id><published>2006-11-09T12:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T12:27:31.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Headache from Hell</title><content type='html'>I have the headache from hell today.  It started last night with a slight annoyance in my right neck muscles.  This morning, I had a little bit of sinus issues, and chalked it up to a few draft beers and a smokey bar last night.  Then, just before lunch, it got bad.  So bad that I thought I might die.  All centered on the right side.  Then, as quick as it came, it was gone.  Now, 4 hours later, its back, but on the left side.  Is this a migraine?  Or is my head really going to explode?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116310405135493484?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116310405135493484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116310405135493484&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116310405135493484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116310405135493484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/11/headache-from-hell.html' title='Headache from Hell'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116300016550782626</id><published>2006-11-08T07:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T07:50:04.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hump Day Happenings</title><content type='html'>Congrats to the Democrats on winning the House and to the new Ohio Govenor, may you change that state for the better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voting was definitely a challenge for us last night.  Our polling location was at an elementary school, making it impossible to go during the day.  By the time we got there at 6:15 last night, it was pitch black, there were no lights and no signs directing us where to go.  We ended up parking 1/2 mile away and hiking.  Good thing it's Florida and it was still 70 degrees out.  Once near the building, we stood in line outside for about 30 minutes which wasn't entirely fun with a starving toddler, but we managed and she entertained the crowd.  Inside, the real problems began.  Here's the thing.  When we moved to Florida and got our new drivers license, they asked us if we wanted to register to vote at the same time.  We did - of course.  Well, apparently, when we moved and in turn switched counties, our voter reg did not follow us.  I found this out by accident last week, and after speaking to the board of elections, was assured that I needed to go to my current polling location and make sure I bring my ID and proof of residency, they would be able to switch my locations and sign me up.  I wish it was that simple.  It truly is amazing how lazy some people can be.  The "elected official" kept trying to tell me that I couldn't vote, or that I could vote on a provisional ballot but it wouldn't count?  So, I asked him if I needed to go to the old location and vote there, but he said that I wouldn't be able to do that either because my new address required I vote where I was standing.  Hmmm...  He tried the deadline/shmeadline line on me, I gently reminded him of my constitutional right to vote, and amazingly enough, a phone call later, I was voting.  I mean seriously, am I the only person in the country who has moved in the past year and was negligent (by default) in switching my voter reg card?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, after that was over, we ate dinner at the newly redone Chinese Buffett.  It was $1 per person more expensive, but they had a REAL sushi bar and hot, fresh crablegs.  YUMMY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and Emily woke up in the middle of the night requesting her mommy and wanting to lay in my bed.  I let her for a few minutes because frankly, I was tired and not looking forward to laying down on her tile floor.  It was so nice, she spent 15 minutes touching my face and my hair and whispering sweet nothings into my ear and then asked me if she could go back to her bed and go night, night.  Yes, Emily, you can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116300016550782626?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116300016550782626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116300016550782626&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116300016550782626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116300016550782626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/11/hump-day-happenings.html' title='Hump Day Happenings'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116284293956293460</id><published>2006-11-06T11:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T11:55:39.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Election Day</title><content type='html'>Don't forget - election day is tomorrow!  You can't complain if you don't vote, and complaining is my favorite thing to do so you know I'll be there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of elections, the latest buzz is how Crist - the Republican running to replace Baby Bush snubbed/skipped (depending on if you are reading Yahoo/FoxNews) the last GW's appearance in Florida.  Ha ha!  His name was printed all over the announcements and he was supposed to introduce Bush to the 10,000 plus crowd.  Good going Crist.  Ha ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L-O-S-E-R&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116284293956293460?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116284293956293460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116284293956293460&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116284293956293460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116284293956293460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/11/election-day.html' title='Election Day'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116247918218534604</id><published>2006-11-02T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T06:53:02.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Toddler v Twin v Double</title><content type='html'>It's time for a "real" bed for Emily.  We have looked around, but as is our style, waited until the last possible minute.  That minute came this morning.  I heard her on the monitor with her baby talk and then she got quiet.  Real quiet.  I jumped up and went into her bedroom.  I caught her with one leg over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Emily - what are you doing?&lt;br /&gt;"I'm climbing"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh really?  Why?"&lt;br /&gt;"Look!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And over she went.  Luckily, I was there to help break her fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wanted to wait until she was pottytrained so a new room could be her prize.  Or at least Christmas, but it doesn't seem like it's going to work that way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to make a decision.  Do I buy her a toddler bed?  Yes, it's cute and comes with railings and I can get one for as cheap as $50 and I can use her current mattress.  Or, do I buy her a twin plus railings for a little bit more money, but it will last a lot longer, at least until she is in elementary school right?  Or, do I go straight for the double.  Sure, it's more money, but a quality bed and mattress could last her for years and years and years?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116247918218534604?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116247918218534604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116247918218534604&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116247918218534604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116247918218534604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/11/toddler-v-twin-v-double.html' title='Toddler v Twin v Double'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116187668774344358</id><published>2006-10-26T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T08:32:09.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>R-E-S-P-E-C-T</title><content type='html'>When asked to list qualities I look for in a mate, my list was:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.)  attactive &lt;br /&gt;2.)  funny  &lt;br /&gt;3.)  smart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years later after a few bad breakups my list became:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.)  funny&lt;br /&gt;2.)  honest&lt;br /&gt;3.)  attractive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I'd have to say my list is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.)  funny&lt;br /&gt;2.)  honest&lt;br /&gt;3.)  respectful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?  Funny is number one because it's obvious.  I like to have fun, I like to laugh, I'm not a serious person.  Honesty is number two because it's important.  I'm not just talking about not cheating on your significant other.  I'm talking about having a relationship with someone that you know what is on the other persons mind and how they feel about a situation because they are upfront and truthful with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings us to R-E-S-P-E-C-T.  This one word means a million things to a million people.  Maybe you want someone who respects your poker game.  I know I do : )  Maybe you want someone who respects your personal space.  Or your mood.  Or when  you say No.  Or when you say Yes.  Or Red (if you're into that kind of stuff I guesS).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe you just want someone to have enough respect for you to clean up after themselves and not make you feel like their maid.  Maybe that's it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116187668774344358?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116187668774344358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116187668774344358&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116187668774344358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116187668774344358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/10/r-e-s-p-e-c-t.html' title='R-E-S-P-E-C-T'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116102949489493654</id><published>2006-10-16T13:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T13:11:34.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures at My New Job</title><content type='html'>My mom just called and asked what I was doing.  I told her that I was "trying to see my computer screen".  She was confused and suggested something as basic as moving it.  However, this is my life and things are never that simple:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HeMy computer screen gets direct sunlight in the afternoon but I'm not allowed to move the way that it sits.  I have a table not a desk and I have to be able to see down the approaching hallway because no one else can.  Plus, both of my bosses can make eye contact with me this way.  It sucks, but it's only for about an hour a day that my screen becomes invisible and during that time I pull the curtains closed with a binder clip, lean at an akward angle, hold a folder level with the top of the monitor and balance it on top of my head and squint really really hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, at least I don't have to clean up after my male bosses when the miss the toilet at this job...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116102949489493654?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116102949489493654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116102949489493654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116102949489493654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116102949489493654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/10/adventures-at-my-new-job.html' title='Adventures at My New Job'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116057368398109138</id><published>2006-10-11T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T06:34:44.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud Mama</title><content type='html'>I am so proud of Emily today.  There is a little girl at her preschool that needed some shoes and for whatever personal reasons, the mother was not bringing her any and the baby was not allowed to go outside and play.  So, Emily and I went through her shoes that she has outgrown night and picked out some in the little girls size.  At first Emily wasn't happy about the thought of giving her Elmo tennis shoes away, but once we tried to cram her foot in them and she realized that they didn't fit, she agreed to put them in the bag for "Chelsea".  This morning when we got to preschool, she marched proudly up to Chelsea with the bag of shoes and said "Here.  These fit you.  I get new ones".  Maybe I'm doing o.k. as a mother after all...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116057368398109138?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116057368398109138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116057368398109138&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116057368398109138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116057368398109138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/10/proud-mama.html' title='Proud Mama'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-116040866341020018</id><published>2006-10-09T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-09T08:44:23.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Man</title><content type='html'>CBS' 'Smith' First New Show to Bite Dust&lt;br /&gt;Friday October 6 1:53 PM ET&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something Ray Liotta and Virginia Madsen won't be putting on their resumes: stars of the first new TV show to bite the dust this fall. "Smith," the Tuesday night CBS drama with Liotta leading a band of high-stakes thieves, is off the schedule, the network said Friday. It will be replaced temporarily by reruns of "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation" and "Criminal Minds." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Networks don't like to use the word "cancel" it sounds so messy but the show's producers have been given no promise that it will return. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its last episode had only 8.4 million viewers on Tuesday, according to Nielsen Media Research. It faced tough competition in the time slot from NBC's "Law &amp; Order: SVU" and ABC's "Boston Legal." &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, NBC announced the sort-of cancellation of its Wednesday night serial comedy "Kidnapped," which stars Jeremy Sisto. NBC gambled by putting the show in the time slot held for a long time by "Law &amp; Order," and it failed miserably. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kidnapped" will be moved to the television purgatory of Saturday nights, starting Oct. 21. Its producers have been told to wrap up the serialized drama's story lines by the end of the show's 13-episode order, NBC said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Networks have been wrestling with how to satisfy fans who've gotten involved in serialized dramas when the ratings are poor enough for the show to be canceled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fox has put its new comedy "Happy Hour" on hiatus, but insists it will return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is bad news.  I actually liked Smith - a lot.  And Kidnapped was growing on me.  They just both had bad time slots, and I'm not a Nielsen family like &lt;a href="http://www.audientfiles.blogspot.com"&gt;Audient&lt;/a&gt;, so I guess what I like doesn't count!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-116040866341020018?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/116040866341020018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=116040866341020018&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116040866341020018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/116040866341020018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/10/oh-man.html' title='Oh Man'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115945005541200508</id><published>2006-09-28T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T06:27:35.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/September%20015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/200/September%20015.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/September%20020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/200/September%20020.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/September%20011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/200/September%20011.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115945005541200508?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115945005541200508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115945005541200508&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115945005541200508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115945005541200508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/09/new-pics.html' title='New Pics'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115877563076760974</id><published>2006-09-20T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T11:07:10.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emily's Night Night Antics</title><content type='html'>Emily did not want to go to sleep last night.  Being the good baby that she is, she went to bed without crying.  About 20 minutes later, I hear her in the crib making car noises.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Beep, Beep"&lt;br /&gt;"Honk, Honk"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I giggle, and turn my attention back to Law and Order.  A few minutes later, I hear:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy!"&lt;br /&gt;(pause)&lt;br /&gt;"Daddy!"&lt;br /&gt;(pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and finally...."Annie!" - who by the way is the dog!  I guess she thought that if Mommy and Daddy wouldn't come rescue her, maybe the dog would?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a few minutes later, we hear (by this point Jeremy had come to join me in listening at her door):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happy Birthday to my Emily, Emily"&lt;br /&gt;"Happy Birthday to Emily"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are laughing hysterically and calling family so they can join in the funniness.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, then the crying started and the "My leg stuck" so I investigated, and sure enough, her leg was stuck.  So, I got her out of bed, gave her some water, changed her diaper and let her stay up for a few minutes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She won the battle - but we'll win the war!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115877563076760974?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115877563076760974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115877563076760974&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115877563076760974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115877563076760974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/09/emilys-night-night-antics.html' title='Emily&apos;s Night Night Antics'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115834738221630052</id><published>2006-09-15T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T12:25:47.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It is a Fact</title><content type='html'>People who consume alcohol earn significantly more at their jobs than non-drinkers, according to a US study that highlighted "social capital" gained from drinking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The study published in the Journal of Labor Research Thursday concluded that drinkers earn 10 to 14 percent more than teetotalers, and that men who drink socially bring home an additional seven percent in pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Social drinking builds social capital," said Edward Stringham, an economics professor at San Jose State University and co-author of the study with fellow researcher Bethany Peters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Social drinkers are out networking, building relationships, and adding contacts to their BlackBerries that result in bigger paychecks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The authors acknowledged their study, funded by the Reason Foundation, a libertarian think tank, contradicted research released in 2000 by the Harvard School of Public Health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We created our hypothesis through casual observation and examination of scholarly accounts," the authors said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Drinkers typically tend to be more social than abstainers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The researchers said their empirical survey backed up the theory, and said the most likely explanation is that drinkers have a wider range of social contacts that help provide better job and business opportunities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Drinkers may be able to socialize more with clients and co-workers, giving drinkers an advantage in important relationships," the researchers said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Drinking may also provide individuals with opportunities to learn people, business, and social skills."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also said these conclusions provide arguments against policies aimed at curbing alcohol use on university campuses and public venues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not only do anti-alcohol policies reduce drinkers' fun, but they may also decrease earnings," the study said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One of the unintended consequences of alcohol restrictions is that they push drinking into private settings. This occurred during the Alcohol Prohibition of 1920-1933 and is happening on college campuses today. By preventing people from drinking in public, anti-alcohol policies eliminate one of the most important aspects of drinking: increased social capital."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The researchers found some differences in the economic effects of drinking among men and women. They concluded that men who drink earn 10 percent more than abstainers and women drinkers earn 14 percent more than non-drinkers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, unlike men, who get a seven percent income boost from drinking in bars, women who frequent bars at least once per month do not show higher earnings than women drinkers who do not visit bars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Perhaps women increase social capital apart from drinking in bars," the researchers said in an effort to explain the gender gap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115834738221630052?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115834738221630052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115834738221630052&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115834738221630052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115834738221630052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/09/it-is-fact.html' title='It is a Fact'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115832698315610810</id><published>2006-09-15T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T06:31:04.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Karma is a Bizzle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/320/untitled.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, Sekou it is, isn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115832698315610810?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115832698315610810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115832698315610810&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115832698315610810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115832698315610810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/09/karma-is-bizzle.html' title='Karma is a Bizzle'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115763773055808700</id><published>2006-09-07T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T07:02:10.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paris Hilton is an Idiot</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20060907/people_nm/hilton_dc_2"&gt;PROOF&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115763773055808700?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115763773055808700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115763773055808700&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115763773055808700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115763773055808700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/09/paris-hilton-is-idiot.html' title='Paris Hilton is an Idiot'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115759883102947922</id><published>2006-09-06T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T20:21:11.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Really?</title><content type='html'>I log on to Yahoo tonight to check my email, and I see this tagline:  &lt;a href="http://personals.yahoo.com/us/static/relationships_right-for-you"&gt;"27 ways to know if you've found the right relationship for you"&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just see about that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the right time and place, she suggests people exchange answers to the following questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Kids or no kids?  &lt;strong&gt;Um, do we talk about that when the birth control fails &lt;br /&gt;three months into our relationship?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Smoking or no smoking? &lt;strong&gt; That one seems like something that would be covered on the first date or two...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Drinking or no drinking? (Same for drugs)  &lt;strong&gt;see above&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Religious beliefs: Match? Blend? Clash?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Who works? Who stays home (especially when the kids come along)?  &lt;strong&gt;Is this 1950, I thought we both had to work?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Who wants to live where? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Who controls the checkbook?  &lt;strong&gt;Me, always ME&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What is his/her personal relationship with his/her family? Too distant? Too close?  &lt;strong&gt;If I would have started talking about my family too soon, Jeremy would have definitely bolted&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;9. How are holidays spent? At home? With family? Alone? Vacationing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Windows opened or closed? Heat/AC on or off?  &lt;strong&gt;Seriously?  Is this a make or break a relationship question?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. What side of the bed must you (he/she) sleep on?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Where to spend vacations? Leisure time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Sick: Left alone or babied?  &lt;strong&gt;If you need to be "babied" when sick, maybe you should still be living at Mom's&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Appropriate gift giving: birthdays? Yuletide holidays? Special occasions?  &lt;strong&gt;We need to discuss when to give PRESENTS???  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Who does what around the house?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What is acceptable hygiene?  &lt;strong&gt;Um, if it's not acceptable, why'd you accept the first date?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. What are his/her hobbies, pastimes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Preferences: Music? Movie? Book favorites?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Favorite foods?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Pets or no pets? What kind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Decisions about the children: School, church, discipline, allowance,&lt;br /&gt;    extra curricular activities, friends, and curfew? &lt;strong&gt;Now I know that if I started asking a potential suitor about our future childrens curfews, he would NEVER call me again&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Mealtimes: Early or late?  &lt;strong&gt;Looking for an Early Bird special? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Furniture: Vintage or Contemporary?  &lt;strong&gt;Seriously?  I'm sorry honey, I can't date you because you like the purple leather couch and I'm partial to brown&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Sleeping habits: Four hours or eight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three more compatibility factors&lt;br /&gt;If this list is not enough to help you determine whether or not your new love is right for you, try these as additional ways to size up the compatibility factor: How does your new love handle a crisis? Behave in public places? Treat your friends and family?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think you can tell a great deal about your new mate by the way he treats his mother and how she treats her father. Observing how a person regards that parent is key in establishing how he or she will treat you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are in love -- if you've finally met Mr. or Ms. Right -- step back from all that awe and wonderment for a moment and get answers to all of the above. You will find out whether or not this new relationship (the one you've been looking for all this time) is one that will or will not last. As they say, love can be blind, but if it is going to last, love also has to be practical!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115759883102947922?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115759883102947922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115759883102947922&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115759883102947922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115759883102947922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/09/oh-really.html' title='Oh Really?'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115751328585736370</id><published>2006-09-05T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T10:01:46.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Pics to Make You Smile</title><content type='html'>Or gag depending on how sick you are of seeing my child!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/June%20060.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/June%20060.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily and her Daddy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/June%20048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/June%20048.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that is a diaper on her head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/June%20054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/June%20054.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only acceptable pic of me out of the 1000's we take, and I don't like it that much, but it's acceptable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/June%20064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/June%20064.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The adorable winter coat I bought her when we lived in Ohio.  She is almost outgrown it, so we let her wear it one day when it dipped below 90.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115751328585736370?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115751328585736370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115751328585736370&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115751328585736370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115751328585736370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/09/some-pics-to-make-you-smile.html' title='Some Pics to Make You Smile'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115746711002920668</id><published>2006-09-05T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T07:38:30.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A True Story</title><content type='html'>I've often called our new town "the biggest small town".  Here is a story to back that up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday morning around 6:30 a.m. my Dad and Uncle Greg went down to the marina where my dad keeps my his boat.  They immediately noticed a little girl about 2 years old wandering around.  They assumed that her parents were nearby and went about the business of preparing the boat.  A little while later when they put the boat in the water, they noticed that same little girl and took a closer look.  She had no shoes on, and was crying.  My dad went over to her and picked her up.  They had no cell phone, so they knocked on the door of the police officer who happens to own the marina, but he didn't answer.  A few minutes later, my mom showed up, and they used her cell phone to call 9-1-1.  The police came and took the little girl into custody, and my parents went about their day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All weekend our family pondered who that girl was, how she got out by the river, where her parents where, was she ok, and what happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, as I was dropping Emily off at daycare, I saw that one of my favorite parents Lindsey was there at the same time.  I like Lindsey because she is my age, she is a single mother, she is beautiful, nice, easy to talk to, and I need my nails done, and that's what she does for a living, so by running into her, I saved myself a phone call.  Her daughter Malia, is almost the same age as Emily, so they play together well and we've often pondered a playdate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can anyone guess where this story is going?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked in and overheard Lindsey telling MiMi to make sure that she locks the doors, because Malia knows how to unlock them now.  I asked her if she had heard the story about the little girl that they found this weekend by the water, and she said "Yes, that was Malia!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, Malia had spent the night at her grandparents house and someone had not locked the door properly.  Malia had woken up early and wandered out.  She opened the bedroom door, the back door, and the gate to get outside.  She walked several blocks along a canal, railroad tracks, a busy road and the river until she was found by my Dad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a lucky little girl and what a small world!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115746711002920668?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115746711002920668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115746711002920668&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115746711002920668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115746711002920668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/09/true-story.html' title='A True Story'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115573375565417294</id><published>2006-08-16T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T06:21:44.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's BAAAAAAACCCCKKKKK</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.timart.be/Npaginas/foto/wolf_spider.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.timart.be/Npaginas/foto/wolf_spider.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this time, I got a good look at it.  It's still huge!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spotted it on the bottom of my front door when I was taking the dog out.  I stared it down for a few minutes, and came to realize that I wasn't going to be able to get back in the front door without removing it.  I was barefoot and had no weapons.  The only thing I could find on the front porch was an empty 1 L water bottle.  It was bigger then the bottom of the bottle!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally went across the street and recruited the old neighbor guy.  He sprayed it down with some stuff that he promised would kill it.  It didn't.  He sprayed it some more.  It bared its fangs at us and tried to attack.  After using half the can, it finally was paralyzed enough that we could nail it with the broom.  Well, he could nail it with the broom.  I was standing back 20 feet or so.  Ah, mission accomplished.  One more dead spider!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115573375565417294?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115573375565417294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115573375565417294&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115573375565417294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115573375565417294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/08/its-baaaaaaacccckkkkk.html' title='It&apos;s BAAAAAAACCCCKKKKK'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115557386194581478</id><published>2006-08-14T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T09:52:27.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Other Half of the Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/June-004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/June-004.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was spent taking adorable pictures of the posing Emily&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115557386194581478?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115557386194581478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115557386194581478&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115557386194581478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115557386194581478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/08/other-half-of-weekend.html' title='The Other Half of the Weekend'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115556458232268854</id><published>2006-08-14T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T07:09:42.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I would do with $5,000</title><content type='html'>Jeremy and I played in the "Regional Finals" on Saturday for our texas hold 'em poker league.  There were 70 players, and it was the biggest live tournement that I've ever played in. When I saw my table, I was disappointed to realize that 6 of the players I play with on a regular basis - dashing my chances of portraying the role of "dumb girl".  But, I did have my favorite dealer of all time, $ Dave, so that made up for it!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the first hour, things looked good for me, my stack was up about 25%.  At a different table, Jeremy was not faring so well.  He was just below even, but he ended up with our bad luck dealer, so we knew it was going to be a struggle for him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the second hour, I was surprised to realize that 1.)  We had been playing for 2 hours!  2.)  Most of my fellow Vero players were already out  3.)  My stack had taken a major hit and I was down to half of what I started with.  Oops.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after the break, Jeremy fell victim, and it was on me to bring home the money.  Here are the two hands that put me out:  I was in the big blind for $800 and was dealt Ace Jack of Hearts.  Beautiful big blind hand.  Now, if only I could limp in, hit my ace or even better a sraight or a  flush and I could pick up some major chips.  Not going to happen.  A WPB kid raised to $2000, so I put in the extra $1200 so I could see the flop.  It came out crap, crap, more crap.  WPB raised again.  I knew that he was sitting on high pockets, and with all the crap on the board, he had me beat.  I folded.  There went almost 40% of my stack.  Now, I was definitely the small stack.  Time for another break, Wow! I've been playing for 3 hours and I made it to the almost half way point, we are down to 37-40 players.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We come back from break with a lot of encouragement, both from friends and Kamikaze shots, and I adjust my game plan.  It's time to sit back and wait for the hand.  I just got out of the blinds, my table is full again since we merged before the break, I've got 8 hands to just watch and wait.  Two hands later, I'm dead.  I get dealt JJ.  No one raises ahead of me, so I push in my remaining $3500 in chips.  This should be enough to scare off any of the mediocre hands since the blinds are at $500 and a $1000, should be enough to make the blinds think twice before calling.  The small blind (WPB kid AGAIN), calls my all in, along with the chip leader.  The flop comes out 9 4 4.  WPB raises and I realize that I'm screwed, I'm out of the tournament.  Chip leader folds, and we flip.  WPB kid has flopped a full house with his pocket 9's.  Dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did end up having fun.  I played in a single table tournament later that day, and took 3rd (still not sure how because some guy at the table was buying me a LOT of drinks).  Our buddy Steve came in 10th overall, and I was in bed before 11!  Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115556458232268854?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115556458232268854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115556458232268854&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115556458232268854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115556458232268854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/08/what-i-would-do-with-5000.html' title='What I would do with $5,000'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115522173387528718</id><published>2006-08-10T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T08:10:27.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Fun With Numbers</title><content type='html'>On Saturday, Jeremy and I will be driving to Gypsy's Irish Pub for the Regional Finals for our Texas Hold Em Poker league.  The directions on the &lt;a href="http://www.onestoppokertour.com/"&gt;league website&lt;/a&gt; indicate we should take 95, however, &lt;a href="http://www.mapquest.com/"&gt;MapQuest&lt;/a&gt; is telling me to take the Turnpike.  What do I choose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Our House to Gypsy's via the Turnpike:&lt;br /&gt;74.72 miles times &lt;a href="http://www.fueleconomy.gov/feg/noframes/15949.shtml"&gt;gas mileage&lt;/a&gt; = 3.25 gallons of gas&lt;br /&gt;3.25 gallons of gas times &lt;a href="http://www.floridastategasprices.com/Vero_Beach/index.aspx"&gt;Average&lt;/a&gt; = $9.78&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.floridasturnpike.com/TRI/index.htm"&gt;Turnpike Tolls&lt;/a&gt; = $4.20&lt;br /&gt;ROUNDTRIP = $23.76&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Our House to Gypsy's via 95:&lt;br /&gt;85.96 miles times gas mileage = 3.74 gallons of gas&lt;br /&gt;3.74 gallons of gas times Average = $11.26&lt;br /&gt;ROUNDTRIP = $22.52&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're taking 95!  It's going to save us $1.24!  Which everyone knows by now equals .41 gallons of gas and 9.48 miles farther we can drive!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115522173387528718?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115522173387528718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115522173387528718&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115522173387528718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115522173387528718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/08/more-fun-with-numbers.html' title='More Fun With Numbers'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115495965088985233</id><published>2006-08-07T07:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T07:09:07.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Poker Weekend</title><content type='html'>Last week the "location" finals were  held for our &lt;a href="http://www.onestoppokertour.com"&gt;Poker League&lt;/a&gt;.  Every night, Jeremy was at the Vero Bowl either dealing or playing and I got the chance to play on Monday, Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday.  Monday I sucked.  Wednesday I sucked not as bad.  Saturday I didn't even want to play, so I sucked.  Yesterday, I did well, but not good enough, so needless to say, I came away empty handed.  Jeremy ended up with 2 wins (Wednesday and Sunday), we are in the Regional Finals this weekend!!!  66 players and the winner gets $5000 to use towards any poker tournament, satellite tournament or poker school.  I like our odds...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have to work out the logistics.  We have to be in Wellington around 11 a.m., which means we need to leave our house by about 930 or 1000 and we won't be home until 8ish.  That is a lot of babysitting money!  Plus, lunch and dinner, etc.  Argh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115495965088985233?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115495965088985233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115495965088985233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115495965088985233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115495965088985233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/08/another-poker-weekend.html' title='Another Poker Weekend'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115470014967736779</id><published>2006-08-04T06:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-04T11:48:19.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That's Horrendous</title><content type='html'>Thanks to Jeff, aka Hollywood for the above quote...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm referring to is the price of gas!  I filled up today and it was $43.50!    It was $3.09 per gallon!!!  If my tank would have been on E, it would have cost me $55.62!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing what I can.  I don't drive a gas guzzler.  I drive a Grand Prix.  I don't speed, I don't drive if I can walk or at the least take Jer's purple Thunder.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's do some math:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home to Daycare = 6.05 miles&lt;br /&gt;Daycare to Work = 10.22 miles&lt;br /&gt;ROUNDTRIP = 32.54 miles&lt;br /&gt;Current &lt;a href="http://www.fueleconomy.gov/feg/noframes/15949.shtml"&gt;gas mileage&lt;/a&gt; x 32.54 = $4.37&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Car Payment per day = $8.27&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daycare per day = $25.00&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not including clothes and food, it is costing me $37.64 every day to come to work.  That is 43% of my income, just to get here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tune in tomorrow when I figure taxes into the occasion and soon learn that its costing me money to come to work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115470014967736779?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115470014967736779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115470014967736779&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115470014967736779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115470014967736779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/08/thats-horrendous.html' title='That&apos;s Horrendous'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115375754723961289</id><published>2006-07-24T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-24T09:12:27.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Weekend Presented as an American Express Commercial</title><content type='html'>Dinner at La Salsa:  $18&lt;br /&gt;Drinks before the show:  $36&lt;br /&gt;Tickets to &lt;a href="http://www.joerogan.net/"&gt;Joe Rogan&lt;/a&gt;:  $60&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still falling asleep at midnight on a Saturday night:  Priceless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy and I went to see Joe Rogan on Saturday night at the West Palm Beach Improv located in CityPlace.  CityPlace reminds me a lot of Easton in Columbus, or any other indoor/outdoor shopping, eating, entertainment venue I've ever been to, but it was nice to get out of Vero for the night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe Rogan was hilarious, as was his opener, &lt;a href="http://www.joeydiaz.com/"&gt;Joey Diaz&lt;/a&gt;. Joey Diaz has been seen in the The Longest Yard, and he was also the guy who defended Spidey on the train in Spiderman 2.  Why I remember him from there, I don't know, but I do.  Joe Rogan is the host of Fear Factor as well as the Man Show, and unless you live under a rock, I'm sure you've heard of him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I highly recommend seeing either of them if you get the chance.  We had a great time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115375754723961289?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115375754723961289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115375754723961289&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115375754723961289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115375754723961289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-weekend-presented-as-american.html' title='My Weekend Presented as an American Express Commercial'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115334065553426412</id><published>2006-07-19T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-19T13:34:36.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Poker League?</title><content type='html'>Since the &lt;a href="http://www.tcpalm.com/tcp/local_news/article/0,2545,TCP_16736_4845872,00.html"&gt;downfall&lt;/a&gt; of our Poker League last Thursday, Jeremy and I have spent a lot of time staring at the boring beige walls of our house.  So, last night, we decided to give another &lt;a href="http://www.younggunsactionpoker.com/"&gt;local league&lt;/a&gt; a try.  This time around, it was hosted in downtown Ft Pierce, which is only a hop skip and a jump from Vero Beach, and it happened to be at the restaurant next door to where I work (Governors Grill).  Although the group was small, we brought the party including Dustin (whose claim to fame is the "praying" picture in the newspaper from March) and John aka Big Sexy.  I got bad cards, and ended the night early after a good play.  I held a Jack 9 suited and the flop came out 8 9 J.  Someone raised ahead of me, so I went all in with my top two pair, flush draw, straight draw, etc.  I was trying to force out the people on a draw, but unfortunately, the raiser had flopped his straight, so he called.  Obviously.  Oh well, it was a good move on my part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, if you are local, and missing the Poker games, check out the &lt;a href="http://www.younggunsactionpoker.com/"&gt;Young Guns Action Poker Tour &lt;/a&gt;.  Tell them that Jamie sent you, so I can get my extra free chips dammit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115334065553426412?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115334065553426412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115334065553426412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115334065553426412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115334065553426412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/07/new-poker-league.html' title='A New Poker League?'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115324368444542591</id><published>2006-07-18T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T10:28:04.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Bad Wolf Spider</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.timart.be/Npaginas/foto/wolf_spider.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.timart.be/Npaginas/foto/wolf_spider.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night when I picked up Emily from daycare, this is what I found under the car door handle.  EW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115324368444542591?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115324368444542591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115324368444542591&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115324368444542591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115324368444542591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/07/big-bad-wolf-spider.html' title='Big Bad Wolf Spider'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115322918674895364</id><published>2006-07-18T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T06:30:53.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fine Then Be That Way</title><content type='html'>If &lt;a href="http://kristenbloeser.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kristen&lt;/a&gt; can't be bothered and &lt;a href="http://audientfiles.blogspot.com/"&gt;Audient &lt;/a&gt; isn't in the mood, than neither am I!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey!  I figured out how to "name" my links!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115322918674895364?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115322918674895364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115322918674895364&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115322918674895364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115322918674895364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/07/fine-then-be-that-way.html' title='Fine Then Be That Way'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115316831228618690</id><published>2006-07-17T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T13:31:52.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Weekend with no Poker</title><content type='html'>Since the Poker bust on Thursday night, Jeremy and I were a little confused about how our weekend would go.  We were affected in three ways.  Jeremy didn't have to work Saturday night, which meant no extra spending money and we usually flip a coin over who plays the early/late game on Sunday...and, well...there was none.  So, instead we spent a nice, boring weekend as a family.  A little grocery shopping, a little nail painting, some Home Depot stuff, a dinner out, and that was about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the beach on Sunday morning, but since we live so close to one now, it's not really that big of a deal.  Do the people that grew up here (or near another beach) realize how lucky they are?  Some people plan for months or even years to take their families on a beach vacation, and we get to decide after breakfast to toss on some suimsuits, grab the bucket of toys and a towel and head out.  Fifteen minutes later, our toes are in the Atlantic Ocean...  We took Annie Doo Doo this time, and it was her first visit to the actual "ocean".  She's been to the river side of the Cove many times, and she has a blast with the big waves and chasing her ball up and down the beach.  It was pretty deserted so we let her be off the leash for over an hour.  She did well until it was time to walk back to the car and she took off after some fisherman.  Luckily, they saw her coming and were careful.  Dumb dog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some new pics of Emily's birthday party to post.  Maybe I'll get to them tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115316831228618690?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115316831228618690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115316831228618690&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115316831228618690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115316831228618690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/07/weekend-with-no-poker.html' title='A Weekend with no Poker'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115290190774588094</id><published>2006-07-14T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T11:31:47.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Glad I Didn't Get Involved...</title><content type='html'>Here is an article in today's paper about a "big" gambling bust.  It involved several of the people that Jeremy and I play with on a regular basis - but unlike us, they weren't smart enough to realize that 1.)  gambling is illegal  2.)  drugs are illegal  3.)  inviting the cops to your illegal games isn't bright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy and I only play in the "free" games, this occurred later at night during a "cash" game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INDIAN RIVER COUNTY — A gamble to play poker for money instead of points didn't pay out for several card sharks Thursday night when investigators raided a local bar, officials allege.  Nearly a dozen players sitting near the back of Hillbilly Hideaway in Vero Beach had to fold early when four undercover investigators surrounded their table about 11:30 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a target="_top" href="http://adsremote.scripps.com/event.ng/Type=click&amp;FlightID=2008326&amp;amp;AdID=2011270&amp;TargetID=2003385&amp;amp;Segments=351,2000635,2001081,2001256,2001565,2001784,2001916,2002592,2003087,2003137,2003524,2003526,2004128,2006162,2006188,2006526,2006587,2007012,2007369,2007773,2008092,2008093,2008094,2008290,2008711,2008740,2008787,2009431,2010386,2010753,2010754,2010755,2010756,2010869,2010967,2011117,2011596,2012259,2012309,2012697,2012909,2012944,2014164,2014228,2014234,2014384,2014844,2014846,2014847,2015213,2015530,2015820,2015833,2015839,2016012,2016055,2016056&amp;Targets=2001659,2019986,2009239,2020882,2011089,2012354,2005227,2003385,2008761,2013281&amp;amp;Values=20,31,43,48,50,60,77,85,91,100,110,150,152,313,593,748,761,1238,1275,1410,1570,2000122,2000134,2000705,2000708,2000729,2001107,2001160,2001542,2001881,2001882,2002025,2002057,2002676,2002931,2003032,2003710,2003807,2003823,2004215,2004296,2004338,2004339,2004415,2004417,2004425,2004426,2004427,2004428,2004438,2004460,2004462,2004463,2004476,2004778,2005244,2005246,2005249,2006027,2006303,2006408,2006724,2006900,2007728,2007783,2008314,2008436,2008496,2008580,2008589,2008618,2008678,2008679,2009449,2009587&amp;RawValues=&amp;amp;Redirect=http:%2F%2F"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Everybody, get your hands up where I can see them," yelled one officer as others in plain clothes stormed the bar at 122 U.S. 1.  Following a verbal announcement of the gambling investigation, deputies surrounded the bar, locked the doors and monitored everyone inside. Even those not playing poker — including the staff — were checked before being allowed to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Detectives from the county's Multi-Agency Criminal Enforcement unit arrested nine people and charged them with misdemeanor gambling. Two of them also were charged with felonies including running a gambling operation and possessing cocaine.  Their names were not released Thursday night, and all declined to comment.  The One Stop Poker Tour, hired by the bar as entertainment, offers a free poker tournament every Thursday night at Hillbilly Hideaway. The company also hosts games on other nights in various venues from Melbourne to Palm Beach and is in its second season, according to its Web site, &lt;a href="http://www.onestoppokertour.com"&gt;www.onestoppokertour.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Web site claimed the games were legal because no money was exchanged and no prizes were awarded. The poker games are free, and winners have a chance to win a seat at a World Poker Tour in Las Vegas, the Web site stated.  Detective Sgt. Darin Jones agreed the free poker games were legal. But it only took a few people to ruin the fun for everyone after the free games were finished, he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We try to investigate every complaint of illegal gambling we get," Jones said, adding he got invited to play in the cash game during the initial stages of the undercover investigation. "If we get a complaint that turns out to be legit, we will enforce the law. We want everyone to know this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acting on tips from other companies that run legitimate poker tournaments, MACE detectives launched their investigation about four months ago into Hillbilly Hideaway.&lt;br /&gt;Undercover investigators played in the free games for several months, and some were later asked to play in the "invite only" games for money, according to Jones. They even got tips from state gaming officials about how to play poker and what cheats to look for from dealers.&lt;br /&gt;The cash games were played in the same area as the free ones. However, the chips were different to signify money instead of points, Jones said. The average cost to buy into a game was about $40 with the top winners receiving up to several hundreds of dollars.&lt;br /&gt;"We found the chips for the free games stored in the back. The chips they used for the money definitely were different," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house kept 10 percent, so if the buy-in was $100 each player would receive $90 to gamble during the games, Jones alleged. Detectives were busy throughout Thursday night and early Friday morning sorting through the cash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The state Department of Business and Professional Regulation also was in on the investigation. Officers from the Division of Alcoholic Beverages and Tobacco assessed the business during the raid and were determining if the bar was up to code.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of Friday morning, officers continued their investigation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115290190774588094?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115290190774588094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115290190774588094&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115290190774588094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115290190774588094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/07/im-glad-i-didnt-get-involved.html' title='I&apos;m Glad I Didn&apos;t Get Involved...'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115280106617771952</id><published>2006-07-13T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T07:31:06.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I needed a good laugh</title><content type='html'>And I found it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first entry is funny, but please don't miss the one about the head and the gastric bypass! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://service-rep.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://service-rep.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115280106617771952?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115280106617771952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115280106617771952&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115280106617771952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115280106617771952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-needed-good-laugh.html' title='I needed a good laugh'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115228390320309846</id><published>2006-07-07T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-07T08:22:21.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Day in History</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/900928582_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/320/900928582_l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is July 7th, otherwise known as Emily's birthday! My baby girl is two years old. Happy Birthday Emily!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115228390320309846?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115228390320309846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115228390320309846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115228390320309846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115228390320309846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/07/this-day-in-history.html' title='This Day in History'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-115040085512360104</id><published>2006-06-15T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T12:47:35.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Good one from Grandma</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/flag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/flag.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-115040085512360104?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/115040085512360104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=115040085512360104&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115040085512360104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/115040085512360104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/06/another-good-one-from-grandma.html' title='Another Good one from Grandma'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114987745158972308</id><published>2006-06-09T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T11:24:11.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Babies on the Brain</title><content type='html'>Disclaimer:  This post does not mean that I am pregnant, or that I am considering becoming pregnant.  It simply means that I miss my child because she is out of town, and so therefore, I've been thinking about her a lot lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was pregnant, I befriended a neighbor who had a newborn daughter.  She in turn befriended someone who had an infant son.  So, I got to hear about what to expect from someone with 6 months more experience than me and someone with 12 months more experience than me.  I then told what I learned/experienced to my friends Raquel and Aimee who were just a few months behind me in the process.  What a great system!  5 woman all sharing this information about this alien thing that has invaded our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first couple of weeks after Emily was born, I was so frazzled.  I didn't know what I was doing!  The only "rule" that I followed was that Emily was nursed every 2 1/2 to 3 hours and my entire day revolved around that and napping when I could and learning to eat with one hand.  My neighbor saw my frustrations and let me borrow a book and told me to take out of it what I wanted.  Sorry folks, I don't remember the name of the book, but I do remember reading it and this huge LIGHT coming on in my head.  Basically, it suggested following a simple routine.  Eat, Play, Sleep.  Then it gave suggestions on how often the cycle should be repeated.  Here is how it went (I think, I am doing this from memory and that is the great thing about being a mom, most of the bad memories get erased).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;0-3 months - 3 hour cycle - 1 1/2 to 2 hours of feeding followed by playing followed by 1 hour of napping.  Repeat 8 times a day (except for the 12 hours of night, eliminate the playing portion).  So a typical day for me went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 AM - Feed, Play, Sleep&lt;br /&gt;11 AM - Feed, Play, Sleep&lt;br /&gt;2 PM - Feed, Play, Sleep&lt;br /&gt;5 PM - Feed, Play, Sleep&lt;br /&gt;8 PM - Feed, Play, Sleep&lt;br /&gt;11 PM - Feed, Sleep&lt;br /&gt;2 AM - Feed, Sleep&lt;br /&gt;5 AM - Feed, Sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, don't give up, it gets better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3-6 months - 4 Hour Cycle - 2 1/2 to 3 hours of feeding followed by playing followed by 1 hour of napping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now I'm feeding her at 8 AM, 12 NOON, 4 PM and 8 PM, putting her down for naps around 1030 AM, 130 PM and and 5 PM (we always tried to get that last nap in earlier than later for night times sleeping sake).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is where it got tough.  Around 4 months I got tired of having a baby right next to my bed.  Sure, it made nursing easier, but it didn't help me sleep and it sure wasn't helping my relationship if you know what I mean....  So, I moved her into her bedroom.  Gone were the days of her napping wherever she fell down.  I even took the big step and started to put her down for a nap when the clock/cycle/her baby signals told me so instead of rocking her or nursing her to sleep.  YIKES!!!  We handled the nap times ok because it was daylight out and I was learning to keep my own eyes open for most of the day, but the night time was bad, very bad for a few weeks.  The books that talk about this "Ferber" method tells you it will be days.  They lie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is how we survived:  Routine, routine, routine.  We told the world that we no longer ran our lives, our mega baby ('cause she was a 10 pounder at birth) was now in charge.  That meant that we had to be home by 7 PM every night no ifs and or buts.  The television was turned off.  A nice leisurely bath was given followed by some playtime between Emily and Daddy (Jer was working 3rd shift at the time, and unfortunately, since one of her naps was during his awake time, he really only got to see her for about 3 hours a day), then the last feeding of the day was at 8 PM followed by almost immediate bedtime. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After listening to her scream, you really start to learn that all cries DO mean different things.  The first couple of nights were so hard that I would sit on the couch with headphones on and read a book with the clock turned around.  We had to work our way up.  The first night we let her scream for 5 minutes then I rescued her.  Then 10 minutes, then 20, then all of the sudden, she hit her maximum and would fall asleep.  We quickly learned that it takes our Emily approximately 25 minutes to fall asleep once she is put in bed.  That is still true to this day.  The screaming lasted for several weeks, then it was over.  Our baby had a bedtime, we had a life again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so proud of me, of us, of Emily.  We had our doubts and our doubters.  I remember many people thinking I was crazy to let my baby scream and we had to talk to our neighbors and let them know what we were doing so they didn't call the cops on us, but today I have an almost 2 year daughter who goes to bed around 8:30 every night and sleeps until at least 7 AM, plus takes a 2-3 hour nap every afternoon.  It is recommended that all children under 5 get a minimum of 11 hours a sleep, but the more the better.  Their little brains are developing in overdrive and they need their rest!  I cringe when I see small babies out in public after 9 p.m. or I overhear someone say that their little one "missed" their nap today because they were at the mall or something else not important.  So what if I've missed out on a few things because it was time for me to get her home for nap or bedtime, she is my legacy and the most important thing in my life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  The rest of the schedule follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6-12 months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feed every 4 hours, attempt to eliminate 3rd nap of the day by lengthing the other two naps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 AM Feed&lt;br /&gt;10 AM Nap&lt;br /&gt;12 Noon Feed&lt;br /&gt;2 PM Nap&lt;br /&gt;4 PM Feed&lt;br /&gt;8 PM Feed, Bedtime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime in the first to second year, the morning nap will get dropped, along with the mid afternoon feeding.  It didn't happen for us until around 18 months, and then our schedule looked something like this (and still is today)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 AM Feed&lt;br /&gt;12 Noon Feed, Nap&lt;br /&gt;6 PM Feed&lt;br /&gt;8 PM Bedtime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever someone compliments me on how happy and well behaved my daughter is, I feel justified in taking the credit for putting her on a schedule.  It doesn't have to be a strict schedule, just have some consistency in your daily activities on MOST days and everyone will be happier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114987745158972308?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114987745158972308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114987745158972308&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114987745158972308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114987745158972308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/06/babies-on-brain.html' title='Babies on the Brain'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114970102836246274</id><published>2006-06-07T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-07T10:23:48.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Balls</title><content type='html'>So, I am getting fired Friday (in two days).  Everyone (including me) knows it, but my boss has NO BALLS and won't tell me.  I think I know why (and yes, some of it is my fault, but not all of it).  Maybe I'll get into it later....not now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114970102836246274?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114970102836246274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114970102836246274&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114970102836246274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114970102836246274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/06/no-balls.html' title='No Balls'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114930202368315287</id><published>2006-06-02T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-04T17:58:42.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Omaha</title><content type='html'>Since most of you know that I'm new to Poker as of Dec 2005, you'll be proud to learn that I'm expanding my horizons outside of No Limit Texas Hold Em. Lately, I've found myself bored with the game - or maybe just the players in the local league &lt;a href="http://www.onestoppokertour.com"&gt;http://www.onestoppokertour.com&lt;/a&gt; Seriously, I play twice a week if I'm lucky, and I'm not trying to brag, but why am I still in top 20 of points? These folks play every night of the week and twice on Sunday! I don't win everytime I play, but it's usually because I get bored too quickly or everyone plays retard cards so I bust out.  And those of you that I play with who happen to read my blog, it's them, not you I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anway, back to the Topic: Omaha. The other night after Jeremy did some dealing (aka, made some $$$), it was such a slow night that the cash game was only running with two players. We decided to take his measly $40 in tips and sit down and see what we could do. The dealer was our buddy little Rob, and one of the other cash players was our good friend Matt. So, we decided to experiment with some of the other games, playing with the cards face up since nobody really wanted to take each others money. We tried a few games, but it seemed that every time we played Omaha (and none of that hi/lo crap), I was winning! So tonight to pass the time, I'm playing some free Omaha on Full Tilt and taking everyone's chips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's beginners luck. That's why I hid the credit cards....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114930202368315287?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114930202368315287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114930202368315287&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114930202368315287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114930202368315287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/06/omaha.html' title='Omaha'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114862609379775769</id><published>2006-05-25T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T23:48:13.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/ebay%20018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/200/ebay%20018.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114862609379775769?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114862609379775769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114862609379775769&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114862609379775769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114862609379775769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/blog-post_114862609379775769.html' title=''/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114862283199220746</id><published>2006-05-25T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T22:53:51.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/DSCF1691.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/320/DSCF1691.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114862283199220746?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114862283199220746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114862283199220746&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114862283199220746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114862283199220746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/blog-post_114862283199220746.html' title=''/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114862263514305029</id><published>2006-05-25T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T22:50:35.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/Emily%20Sue%20098.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/320/Emily%20Sue%20098.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114862263514305029?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114862263514305029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114862263514305029&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114862263514305029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114862263514305029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/blog-post_25.html' title=''/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114841403010368863</id><published>2006-05-23T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T12:53:50.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now Look What I've Done!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="height:140px;width:520px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pokerstars.com/blog_tournament/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pokerstars.com/blog_tournament/images/blogger-tournament-2006-2.gif" alt="Texas Holdem Poker" width="250" height="90" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have registered to play in the &lt;a href="http://www.pokerstars.com/blog_tournament/"&gt;PokerStars World Blogger Championship of Online Poker&lt;/a&gt;! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This Online Poker Tournament is a No Limit &lt;a href="http://www.pokerstars.com/"&gt;Texas Holdem&lt;/a&gt; event exclusive to Bloggers.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Registration code: 7330476&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114841403010368863?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114841403010368863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114841403010368863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114841403010368863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114841403010368863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/now-look-what-ive-done.html' title='Now Look What I&apos;ve Done!'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114798186372201933</id><published>2006-05-18T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T12:51:03.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All is NOT fair in Love and Poker</title><content type='html'>So, last night Jeremy and I both head out to play in our local "free game".  We usually don't play on the same nights due to responsibilities at home, but hey, my Dad offered up free babysitting and I quickly jumped in the car and drove away before he could change his mind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty excited, Wednesday night is one of my favorite nights (because they have karoke along with the Poker), and everything looked good.  We were having a few drinks, catching some decent cards, laughing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get dealt a Ace and a Jack of Hearts.  Now, this would typically be a strong hand I guess, but the dealer had been throwing low cards all night and I figured this would be no exception, so I just threw in what it took to call.  The flop comes out J, Q, low card and the Q was a heart.  The guy sitting just after me makes a big raise.  Jeremy calls him.  Shit.  I HATE playing the same hands as him, but I felt I had to call with the middle pair, and a possible straight and flush draw.  Next card:  something low and black - useless.  The original raiser checks.  Sweet.  Jeremy looks over at me, holds his chips out over the "imaginary line" and says, "Here you go baby, have my chips".  I just kind of give him a strange look and say, ok, and call his all in.  Last card is useless to me too, but luckily the big raiser follows the "dry pot" rule and lets me check.  He wins the main pot on a pair of Q's with a kicker.  Here is the war starts though.  Jeremy wins the side pot with a pair of Q's and a stupid low card!  Then proceeds to rub it in that I called him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WAIT A SECOND HERE BUDDY!  Profanity starts flying out of my mouth, the 2 people sitting in between us just back their chairs up and stare.  The other table stops playing to listen.  Jeremy is a part time player and a part time dealer.  He gets to the tables about twice a month, once a week if he's lucky.  I play 3-4 times a week with the same 40 people, and also spend at least an hour a day online, sometimes more.  At the point of this call, I was the only one at the table who had a chance in hell at making a comeback and taking the chip leader on head to head.  I'm not saying that I'm the best player, but I'm definitely better than Jeremy (by pure experience alone, he just doesn't see the cards like I do - he missed a Nut flush from the tightest player on the circuit who went all in when the 3rd club hit - obvious to everyone except Jeremy what he had).  I'm not mad at him for playing a "better" poker game, I'm pissed off because he looked me in the eyes and flat out told me that he was donating the rest of his chips to the "cause".  Needless to say, the rest of my chips didn't last long, I was forced to raise preflop on a mediocre hand because I was big blind, and although I hit two pair, someone else hit the straight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, how did Jeremy fare after he stole my chips?  He was out less than 5 hands later.  Big surprise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114798186372201933?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114798186372201933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114798186372201933&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114798186372201933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114798186372201933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/all-is-not-fair-in-love-and-poker.html' title='All is NOT fair in Love and Poker'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114795932680577595</id><published>2006-05-18T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T06:35:26.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a CoverGirl, Mommy, I'm a CoverGirl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/danielle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/danielle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And, that is a scary thought.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tyra has been looking for a project, and she found it with last nights ANTM winner, Danielle....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114795932680577595?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114795932680577595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114795932680577595&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114795932680577595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114795932680577595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/im-covergirl-mommy-im-covergirl.html' title='I&apos;m a CoverGirl, Mommy, I&apos;m a CoverGirl'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114789393095283814</id><published>2006-05-17T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T12:28:18.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fat and Cranky</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;I guess I was tired of the "fat" part of the fat and happy combo, so I started doing Weight Watchers with a co-worker. Now, I'm just a little less fat and a little more cranky all due to a lack of onion rings. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Diets suck, then you still die fat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few weeks of this diet, I'm half tempted to consider another pregnancy just so I can eat what I want and not have to justify it (I'm pregnant, bring me the triple cheeseburger and garbage fries please). Ok, maybe not. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/Jamie%20047.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 291px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px" height="171" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/320/Jamie%20047.0.jpg" width="164" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/Jamie%20047.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what happens when Mommy turns her back for just one minute to attempt a home cooked meal?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114789393095283814?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114789393095283814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114789393095283814&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114789393095283814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114789393095283814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/fat-and-cranky.html' title='Fat and Cranky'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114770597924843295</id><published>2006-05-15T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T08:12:59.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Fun Weekend</title><content type='html'>Spoiler Alert:  This is going to be a post about my weekend.  If you don't want to hear the details, don't read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night we went to dinner with my Mom and Dad to Pineapple Joes.  I had the chicken quesadillas, of course.  The only interesting thing that happened is that somehow Jeremy is now calling of work on Saturday and going fishing - again - without me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday rolls around, he goes fishing, I go shopping!  It was pretty unsucessful, although I did manage to get my contacts ordered and buy new shampoo, toothbrushes and dog flea medicine.  If he gets to go have fun, I'm spending all his money.  Ha!  He comes home from fishing early enough that we are able to get some family time in and went out to dinner and I found a new jean skort.  YAY!  The button broke off the old one a few months back and now the zipper is pulled out and it truly is unwearable (and if you know me, I'll literally wear clothes until they become indecent).  Saturday night I played poker, placed 3rd both games, and drank $15 of bottled water.  Hmmmm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning we went out to breakfast (aw, aren't we such the cutest family?).  Then, we headed to the beach, and even brought Annie along.  She is becoming quite the swimmer, and is super protective of Emily.  Another dog was on the beach and started to approach Emily and Annie literally ripped the leash out of my hand and ran over and placed her little 30 pound 5 month old body in between the big dog and Emily.  Good girl!  Fun was had by all until Emily dumped a bucket of sandy water over her head and Annie pooped.  It was time to go home.  While both kids took a nice long nap, Jeremy and I busted our buns cleaning the house.  Floors, baseboards, cabinets, countertops, we did it all.  Tonight I'm going to tackle the bathrooms and go to bed just one night with everything in its place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's it from Surburban-ville for now.  My coworker just heated up some Mac N Cheese, and now I'm starving...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114770597924843295?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114770597924843295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114770597924843295&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114770597924843295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114770597924843295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/super-fun-weekend.html' title='Super Fun Weekend'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114737115573808497</id><published>2006-05-11T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T11:12:35.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Office Experiment</title><content type='html'>I was hired as the "Office Manager" for a small real estate company almost 3 months ago.  Since its a small company, my job duties contain just about everything.  Except toilet scrubbing.  That I refuse to do.  I do all the Office Manager stuff, I do all the Receptionist stuff, I do all the Personal Assistant stuff, hell, I even do a little light housekeeping like taking out the garbage and vaccuuming.  However, I do not and will not scrub the Men's toilet.  I will wipe down the top of it, I will toss a bleach tablet in it, but I will not scrub the part where the pee cakes on or the part that is turning different colors from the ass of my boss.  You cannot pay me enough.  Well, ok, maybe you could but that is a different discussion.  I'm currently not being paid enough to scrub the Men's toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the experiment.  I'm almost at my 90 day review, at which point, he can no longer fire me without just cause.  The toilet after just over 2 months of non-scrubbing is starting to look pretty gross.  So, which will come first:  The 90 day review or the boss specifically telling me to scrub the toilet - at which point I'll be required by my personal ethics to tell him no, requiring him to most likely fire me?  Hmmmm....  If he fires me after my 90 day review is up for not scrubbing the toilet, I think I may have a good lawsuit as well as a summer on fun-ployment!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114737115573808497?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114737115573808497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114737115573808497&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114737115573808497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114737115573808497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-office-experiment.html' title='My Office Experiment'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114711730181691353</id><published>2006-05-08T12:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T12:41:41.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Technology Challenged</title><content type='html'>I consider myself decent at technology.  I can type, I can manuver my way around almost any computer program, etc.  I'm learning more every day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent the last hour explaining to a co-worker that a document that I emailed him, that he downloaded on his office computer and edited and saved, needed to be emailed to himself so that he could save it on his home computer and laptop.  Sounds simple, right?  Ah, I wish....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, he is a nice guy and pays me on the side to help him out, so I can't complain.  My payment today was an Italian sub and onion rings for lunch.  Yummy!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114711730181691353?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114711730181691353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114711730181691353&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114711730181691353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114711730181691353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/technology-challenged.html' title='Technology Challenged'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114710358693175399</id><published>2006-05-08T08:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T08:53:06.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm either extremely adorable, or extremely geeky...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/050806%20013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/050806%20013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114710358693175399?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114710358693175399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114710358693175399&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114710358693175399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114710358693175399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/im-either-extremely-adorable-or.html' title='I&apos;m either extremely adorable, or extremely geeky...'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114684954563769454</id><published>2006-05-05T10:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T10:19:05.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/avt_jamiescrawford_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/320/avt_jamiescrawford_large.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114684954563769454?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114684954563769454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114684954563769454&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114684954563769454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114684954563769454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114657830183462924</id><published>2006-05-02T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T06:58:21.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scary Bird!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/Emily_Zoo_042906_002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/400/Emily_Zoo_042906_002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114657830183462924?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114657830183462924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114657830183462924&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114657830183462924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114657830183462924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/scary-bird.html' title='Scary Bird!'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114651467950408388</id><published>2006-05-01T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T13:19:56.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it 5 yet?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.colorquiz.com/"&gt;http://www.colorquiz.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jamie's Existing Situation&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopes to obtain an improved position and greater prestige, so that she can procure for herself more of the things she has had to do without.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jamie's Stress Sources&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has an unsatisfied need to ally herself with others whose standards are as high as her own, and to stand out from the herd. This desire for preeminence isolates her and inhibits her readiness to give herself freely. While she wants to surrender and let herself go, she regards this as a weakness which must be resisted. This self-restraint, she feels, will lift her above the rank and file and ensure recognition as a unique and distinctive personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jamie's Restrained Characteristics&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relationships rarely measure up to her high emotional expectations and her need to be made the center of things, leading to disappointment . Always has mental reservations and tends to remain emotionally isolated and unattached.&lt;br /&gt;Feels that things stand in her way, that circumstances are forcing her to compromise and forgo some pleasures for the time being. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jamie's Desired Objective&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preoccupied with things of an intensely exciting nature, whether erotically stimulating or otherwise. Wants to be regarded as an exciting and interesting personality with an altogether charming and impressive influence on others. Uses tactics skillfully so as to avoid endangering her chances of success or undermining others' confidence in herself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jamie's Actual Problem&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Takes a delight in action and wants to be respected and esteemed for her personal accomplishments.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114651467950408388?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114651467950408388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114651467950408388&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114651467950408388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114651467950408388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/is-it-5-yet.html' title='Is it 5 yet?'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114650439316711218</id><published>2006-05-01T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T10:26:33.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you are a Republican</title><content type='html'>Then you probably shouldn't go to &lt;a href="http://www.google.com"&gt;www.google.com&lt;/a&gt; and type in "asshole" (no quotation marks) and then hit:  "I'm feeling lucky".  And you definitely shouldn't watch the filmstrip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114650439316711218?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114650439316711218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114650439316711218&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114650439316711218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114650439316711218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/if-you-are-republican.html' title='If you are a Republican'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114650345174234769</id><published>2006-05-01T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T06:56:09.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Happenings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/Emily_Zoo_042906_013[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/320/Emily_Zoo_042906_013%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off I'd like to mention that my back really hurts today. I don't know why, but it is aching! But moving on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was gorgeous this weekend! Low 80's, sunny, breezy. We went to the zoo on Saturday morning. Emily loved the monkeys and she even got to feed the giraffe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday we got up bright and early to go grocery shopping before the crowds. Yeah, right. We did o.k. though, I'm proud of our total cost and what we got. We've been trying to eat in most nights, and trying to make healthy stuff. Tonight we are having steaks on the grill with a pasta side and green beans. Yum! Then, when Emily goes to bed, we will be watching Sopranos and Big Love since we missed it last night... 'cause we were playing Poker. And guess who got her 4th win of the season? Yep, it's me. Just call me "shark" from now on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is going to be pretty dead this week...maybe I'll get to post a lot. Won't that be exciting?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114650345174234769?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114650345174234769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114650345174234769&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114650345174234769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114650345174234769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/05/random-happenings.html' title='Random Happenings'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114623661221118412</id><published>2006-04-28T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T10:26:46.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Worlds Longest Survey</title><content type='html'>"Borrowed" From: &lt;a href="http://www.3gallonsofcoffee.blogspot.com"&gt;www.3gallonsofcoffee.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Name: Jamie Sue Crawford&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Single or Taken: Taken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Sex: Yes, please&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Siblings: 1 younger brother - Craig&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Eye color: brown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Shoe size: 8.5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Height: 5'8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Innie or Outie: Innie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What are you wearing right now? black pants, red sweater&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.Where do you live? Vero Beach, FL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did 11 go??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Can you make a dollar in change right now: doubtful, I use plastic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Do you have a BF or GF: Yes, his name is Jeremy, aka Tito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Did you send this to your crush? Nope, and he never checks his email, much less my blog, so feel free to talk bad about him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Best place to go for a date? : We liked the Ocean Grille&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorites&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Kind of pants: black ones with no buttons, snaps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Number: 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Boys Name: Jeremy, Michael, Scott, David&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Girls Name: Emily, Katie, Rachel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Animal: dog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Drinks: Diet Coke, Miller Lite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Month: March&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Juice: Apple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Breakfast: anything that combines eggs, cheese, green peppers, onions and pototoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Cartoon character(s): Sagawa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have You Ever..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Given anyone a bath?: Yep, almost every night I give one to Emily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Smoked? on occasion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Bungee Jumped? absolutely not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Made yourself throw-up?: I tried once or twice when I was "fat". HA HA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Gone skinny dipping: yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Put your tongue on a frozen pole: No, but practiced on popsicles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Loved someone so much it made you cry?: yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Broken a bone: nope, only twisted ankles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Played truth or dare: yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Been in a police car: yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Been on a plane: lots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Came close to dying: Maybe, I've put myself in bad situations before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Been in a sauna: yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Been in a hot tub: yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Swam in the ocean: ew, yes, take me to the pool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was there a 16 at some point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Ran away?: Sure. I ran away from Pickerington to Dublin. I ran from Dublin to Lewis Center. From Lewis Center to Cleveland. From Cleveland to Florida. I'm starting to figure out that the problems follow me no matter what I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Broken someone's heart: Maybe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Cried when someone died: Of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Cried in school: I tried really hard not to, but it probably happened&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Fell off your chair: Oh, several times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Sat by the phone all night waiting for someone to call: Nope, but have fallen asleep many nights clutching my cell phone just in case&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Saved any IM convos: Not sure that I've ever had one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Saved emails: for work maybe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Made out with/kissed just a friend?: yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Used someone: sure thing, to get free drinks, to get free food, to get tickets to a good game/concert, etc, and if you say that you haven't, you're lying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Your good luck charm?: don't really have one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. One Best song you ever heard: Rascal Flatts My Worst Fear, it was the timing of it more than the actual song I'm sure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What's your room like: a mess, my sheets need washed, I need to put away laundry and my bathroom is filthy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What is beside you?: the floor book for work and some other junk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The last thing you ate?: broccoli rabe pizza with garlic - it was sooooooo good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What kind of shampoo do you use? Pantene Pro V&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever Had...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Chicken pox: Yes, twice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Sore Throat: of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Stitches: Only in my tongue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Broken nose: no, ouch!&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do You...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Believe in love at first sight: not really&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Like picnics: as long as someone else is making the food, lugging it in and cleaning it up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Liked school: pretty well&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What schools have you gone to: elementary, middle, high, Ohio State University, Franklin University&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Who was the last person you called: my mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Who was the last person you slow danced with: Emily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Who did you last dirty dance with: Jeremy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who?::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Did you last yell at: Annie for chasing and nipping at Emily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Broke your heart: Jeremy tried to, but I wouldn't let him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Told you they loved you: Emily (wuv you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. loudest friend? that would be probably Robbie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do you like filling these out: obviously&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Do you wear contact lenses or glasses: bof'um&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Do you like yourself: obviously&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Do you get along with your family: mostly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What are you listening to right now?: Kathy talking on the phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What did you do yesterday?: work, eat, sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Gotten any awards: a few back in the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What car do you wish to have?: a yellow corvette convertible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Where do you want to get married?: anywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Good driver?: oh yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Good singer?: nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. How many remote controls are in your house: 4 or 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. What do you dream about?: sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. When you last showered: this morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Scary or Funny Movies: funny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Chocolate or Vanilla: chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Root beer or Dr. Pepper: Dr Pepper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Skiing or SnowBoarding: skiing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Summer or winter?: summer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Silver or Gold?: silver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Sprite or 7up: Sprite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Coffee or tea: coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Phone or in person: in person&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Are you oldest, middle, youngest: oldest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Indoor or outdoor: outdoor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Diamond or pearl: diamond&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today did you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Talk to someone you like: of course, Jeremy called me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. bought something? ha ha no!  Someone else bought lunch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Get sick: I have a headache&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Sang: I don't think so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Talked to an ex: no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Miss someone: oh yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Work out: not today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last person who....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Was in your bed: me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Saw you cry: Jeremy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Made you cry: Jeremy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Went to the movies with: Jeremy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.Went to the mall: Emily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Said "I Love You" and meant it: Emily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. You Hugged: Emily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Kissed you: Emily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Ever been in a fight with your pet: Nah, she's getting better&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Been to California: yes, twice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Been to Mexico: No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Been to Canada: Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Been to Europe: No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do you have a crush on someone: nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What book are you reading now? I've been trying to finish one for a while, but it's really boring, so I keep falling asleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Best feeling in the world: being full (of food, love, life, etc)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Future KIDS names: David Jeremy Park for a boy and Molly Mary Park for a girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Whats under your bed: who the hell knows&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Favorite sports to watch: college football&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Piercing/Tattoos: ears and ankle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Who do you really hate?: no one besides maybe George Bush&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Have you ever liked someone you didn't have a chance with: Nah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Have you ever cried: no never&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Are you lonely right now? nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Song that's stuck in your head right now: I am Rosemary's granddaughter, a spitting image of my father&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Have you ever played strip poker: yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Have you ever gotten beat up: just once&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Have you ever been on radio/TV: yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Last person you talked to on the phone?: some Realtor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Your Favorite Food?: pizza and chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Popcorn flavor? salted and buttered or kettle corn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Cats or Dogs: Big Dogs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. How many pillows do you sleep with: 1 or 2 if I can steal Jeremy's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Who are you missing right now? my baby girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Who do you think is handsome?: Jeremy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Who do you think is beautiful?: Emily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. What is the most important Character trait? honesty&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114623661221118412?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114623661221118412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114623661221118412&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114623661221118412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114623661221118412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/04/worlds-longest-survey.html' title='The Worlds Longest Survey'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114597883594318997</id><published>2006-04-25T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T08:27:15.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And when you think the world is $hitting on YOU</title><content type='html'>Check out this lady's blog! &lt;a href="http://customerdisservice.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://customerdisservice.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she runs another website too! &lt;a href="http://www.peeonastick.com/"&gt;http://www.peeonastick.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasted at least an hour between the two, now you can too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114597883594318997?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114597883594318997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114597883594318997&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114597883594318997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114597883594318997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/04/and-when-you-think-world-is-hitting-on.html' title='And when you think the world is $hitting on YOU'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114597748254436368</id><published>2006-04-25T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T08:04:42.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Rice Krispies Go Snap, Crackle, Pop!</title><content type='html'>I saw this on Yahoo today and couldn't resist posting.  Edited to remove some boring content and stupid people quotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “It’s not rocket science.”  However, over the years Labuza and other cereal scientists have come up with some pretty good suggestions to explain where the noises come from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shattered glass&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Rice Krispie behaves like a piece of glass. If you hit it hard, it’ll break into a puzzle of a million pieces that, if you had the patience, you could put back together again.  The high temperature at which the cereal’s cooked creates extremely strong bonds that hold the rice’s starch molecules together. The strong bonds make the rice act like glass.  During the cooking process, each piece of rice expands and a network of air-filled caves and tunnels form inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Under pressure&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you pour milk into your breakfast bowl, the cereal absorbs the milk. As milk flows into the crispy kernel, the liquid puts pressure on the air inside and pushes it around.  The air shoves against each pocket’s walls until they shatter, forcing out a snap, or a crackle, or, as you, know, sometimes a pop.  You can also see tiny air bubbles escaping to the surface.  The race is now on. Because once the rice is wet enough, all the air pockets have burst, the sounds stop, and you're left in peace and quiet to eat soggy cereal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114597748254436368?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114597748254436368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114597748254436368&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114597748254436368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114597748254436368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/04/why-rice-krispies-go-snap-crackle-pop.html' title='Why Rice Krispies Go Snap, Crackle, Pop!'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114591208696304325</id><published>2006-04-24T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T13:54:46.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People and the Horses They Ride On....</title><content type='html'>Today is definitely Monday.  The day started at 1:22 a.m.  when Emily decided that she was no longer going to sleep in her bed, and only my bed would do and only after she punched and kicked the pillows, the blanket and my lower back for 45 minutes.  Then, I get to work to find out that the other assistant quit.  Really though, no big deal, I was kind of bored anyways and am actually looking forward to the potential extra duties.  But, again, all off topic.  The reason for my post:  Why do some people feel that what they have to say is so much more important than what I have to say.  For example, I work with a woman who is single and 40 and all she talks about all day long is her stupid dogs.  Do I listen?  Yes.  Do I get bored of listening?  Yes.  Would I ever say anything mean about her dogs or her.  No.  It's her life, and although annoying, its not harmful to listen to a few words about her Pride and Joy.  I love poker.  I barely talk to anyone at work, but I mentioned to Dog Lady that I had some people over to play Poker on Saturday night, blah blah blah.  Two minute story tops.  Then, later she was at my desk and asked me a question about Poker, so I answered.  She then made a nasty comment about "God Love You, but all you do is talk about Poker".  I'm sorry, I'll run out tonight and get a 6 pound lesbian poodle and then we'll have more in common tomorrow.  Have a good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114591208696304325?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114591208696304325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114591208696304325&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114591208696304325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114591208696304325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/04/people-and-horses-they-ride-on.html' title='People and the Horses They Ride On....'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20108906.post-114565178085259833</id><published>2006-04-21T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T13:36:20.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Grandma knows how to Email</title><content type='html'>And she forwarded me this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Theodore Roosevelt's ideas on Immigrants and being an AMERICAN in 1907.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In the first place, we should insist that if the immigrant who comes here in good faith becomes an American and assimilates himself to us, he shall be treated on an exact equality with everyone else, for it is an outrage to discriminate against any such man because of creed, or birthplace, or origin.   But this is predicated upon the person's becoming in every facet an American, and nothing but an American...There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also, isn't an American at all. We have room for but one flag, the American flag... We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language... and we have room for but one sole loyalty and that is a loyalty to the American people." Theodore Roosevelt 1907&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20108906-114565178085259833?l=mrstito.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/feeds/114565178085259833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20108906&amp;postID=114565178085259833&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114565178085259833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20108906/posts/default/114565178085259833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrstito.blogspot.com/2006/04/my-grandma-knows-how-to-email.html' title='My Grandma knows how to Email'/><author><name>MrsTito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15784235874624488950</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='19' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6930/1998/1600/giraffehead.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
