<?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-3484887625291448678</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:57:48.733-06:00</updated><category term='back to school'/><category term='weed eating'/><category term='yard'/><title type='text'>The Garden of a Flower Girl</title><subtitle type='html'>...while I'm wistfully blowing around in the wind, I'll occasionally drop in and leave my two-sense. Feel free to enlighten me with yours...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-4918765258662341123</id><published>2008-11-15T16:12:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T21:01:09.942-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Boy do I have some catching up to do!</title><content type='html'>Well, hello there! I know I've been gone for ages. I almost forgot my password. If it didn't pertain to something &lt;em&gt;extremely super-secret&lt;/em&gt;, I probably would have forgotten it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I can't wait to go back on everybody's deal and see Halloween pics!! I'll put some of mine up soon. Hell, I guess it's almost time for Thanksgiving pics... I'm a retard I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, I suck at balancing things. Majorly suck. I'm going to have to go back and figure out how to do all those cool little things. Ummmmmm.... I guess what kicked off my absence was school starting to snowball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, not really. I had a doctor's appointment and it rattled me. Apparently, my heart isn't functioning right in yet another way (basically as a result of the previous procedure), but I've got the pacemaker to keep me going. Yea, go heart block. But, I was starting to "feel" it pace my heart and turns out there was a lot of extra power going on there and it was making me feel wiggy. I'm prone to a bit of depression in the affairs of the heart; I've been fairly withdrawn in my own little world. I did, however, sign up for Facebook, as I've said before. I felt like I've been cheating on my blog, but mostly, I just play Mob Wars so I can buy weapons and plague others with death and destruction - it's a great way to take your fears and aggression out on others in a passive kinda way. Sometimes I don't even "fight" people. I just go and punch them in the face - ha! I've taken a lot of quizzes. Ask Lipstick about that. Apparently, Johnny Depp would definitely date me and I'm almost just like Tyler Durden (Fight Club, if you're not familiar with this genius mind) I'm over it now. I still feel the "power beats" every now and then; but apparently, I've just got to get used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hospital has been amazing. I have learned so much my brain hurts. They're treating me like family now, so I'll be sad to leave them in a few weeks. I've seen lots of cool things and I've seen several people "crash". No one's crossed into the light yet which is good. I still think my best day was a 26 year old patient who came in for some of the same I've been through. It was cool because as a student I just took the opportunity to just sit there and hold his hand under the drapes. Telling someone to "be still" while you're sticking 4 needles in his femoral vein is ridiculous. He was just scared and I totally knew what he was thinking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough about all this serious stuff... The boys are out of control, as usual. Mystery Man should be renamed Garbage Disposal. He eats from the time he gets home from school until he goes to bed. Quite frankly, it's getting on my nerves. I get tired of serving him all the time - ha! Born Cool has an eye appointment this Tuesday. He came home a couple of times and said that his teacher told him he needed to have his eyes checked. Then, she moved him closer to the board. Sooooo glad she sent a note home on that - WTF? (She didn't obviously). Needless to say, B.C. is scared to death he'll have to get glasses and he'll lose his cool. Old Soul decided to take a break from turning stuff in at school. I'm sure Rain will un-ground him by the time he learns to drive. Rain is as demanding as ever - ha! He came home from work yesterday and told me to activate his new debit card and then put his work clothes in the wash. Ha. Yeah, right... (But, I did because I'm a wuss - but I didn't activate the debit card)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, concerning this whole Facebook thing. There are those who may be checking in and know who I am. So sayeth comments on Facebook. So, if you know me from long, long ago, like TRA, plesae don't tell my mom about this - ha! She would stroke out on some of the stuff I've said...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, keeping true to form, here's the guy of the day... Yes, it's Tyler Durden...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SR9QeAlk6bI/AAAAAAAAAHY/evNe7AKlCEI/s1600-h/tyler.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269018565530675634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 319px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SR9QeAlk6bI/AAAAAAAAAHY/evNe7AKlCEI/s320/tyler.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Not sure how I feel about the actor anymore, but I'd jump Tyler Durden faster than a starved snake trying to catch jackrabbit who's trying to get away from the pissed off carrot farmer...) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'll start my catching up with you guys tomorrow. If I didn't have to feed these ratty kids, I'd start tonight... hehe... You know I'm kidding, right? I haven't been away for so long that you don't remember how sarcastic I am, right? Damn kids. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Peace out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-4918765258662341123?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4918765258662341123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=4918765258662341123' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4918765258662341123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4918765258662341123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/boy-do-i-have-some-catching-up-to-do.html' title='Boy do I have some catching up to do!'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SR9QeAlk6bI/AAAAAAAAAHY/evNe7AKlCEI/s72-c/tyler.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-8956989635915486617</id><published>2008-09-21T18:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T18:47:52.651-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Monthly Miracle</title><content type='html'>So, real quick... I ran across this ad from a company called C'elle... Their ad is tagged with "Your Monthly Miracle"... Well, I couldn't help not click on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, you can harvest stem cells during your monthly miracle. Because, you might want to live forever and stuff. Stem cells apparently, can help with this. You can buy the kit, harvest the cells and pay a yearly storage fee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the deal. This has got to be a company full of nothing but men. Oh, yeah, it's a monthly miracle. It's a monthly miracle I don't freakin kill somebody during that "special time"... I know, I know... It really is cool to think that you could make a baby, but damn, otherwise, it's a royal pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, you can purchase the kit for a mere $699. I believe the yearly storage fee is around $100. Once again people, here's the deal. If you think I'm going to buy this expensive ass kit and "harvest" stem cells which, by the way, can not be a pleasant experience, you are crazy... I'm all for stem cell research provided it's not from abortions. They're in bones and umbilical cords, etc so just get them there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, how about this. I will contribute to stem cell research and I'll do this. However, you are going to pay me gobs and gobs of money. I think I've just found a way to get rich... I mean, all the money that's spent on this type of research... Shhhheah. Maybe I've just talked myself into it... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I went to Wally World today. And, I got a really LOUD cart... which didn't bother me so much today. I had my ipod in and people needed to be able to hear me coming because, Lord knows, I couldn't hear them. Turned out to be a really fantastic tactic. I'm going to put that one in my back pocket... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the week... Are you buckled in?? BTW... Can I put my costume on already?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-8956989635915486617?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8956989635915486617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=8956989635915486617' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8956989635915486617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8956989635915486617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/your-monthly-miracle.html' title='Your Monthly Miracle'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-9222873121710553154</id><published>2008-09-20T09:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T09:49:36.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Popular Mechanics...</title><content type='html'>Now, I read stuff like Cosmo or Glamour because I'm always trying to figure out a new way to make my hair more sexy or figure out how to make my eye's really "pop"... And, the sex tips... Although they are very repetitive, what a plethora of information... With three boys running around, I learned real quick that I can't leave them lying around or I've got an 8 year old walking around going, "Hey mom, did you read about how long men really want sex to last?". Fantastic. So, I hide these magazines. Like they're Playboys or something... I hide them in our bathroom with the hunting magazines and such... Here's a new magazine that's popped up in our bathroom...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SNUMKmmZpUI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/KhGcqei4IXM/s1600-h/0918082158%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SNUMKmmZpUI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/KhGcqei4IXM/s320/0918082158%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248114317070017858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if Rain has put this here, hinting that I don't know how to do enough stuff. Like, how to escape a sinking car or how to shoot straight or how to make shelter in the Amazon. We've checked the list. He can accompolish about 5. I've got him beat with 93... No, I'm kidding. I just like giving him a hard time... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, we're stocked up on our halloween costumes. I started apocolypse when I brought home my costume the other day without anything for them. So, we visited this super cool halloween store yesterday, and now, we're all really scary. Well, I'm more vampy than scary, but you know. It's what Cosmo has taught me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else totally ready to put on their costume &lt;i&gt;right now&lt;/i&gt;?? Geeze.... I know I am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-9222873121710553154?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9222873121710553154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=9222873121710553154' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/9222873121710553154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/9222873121710553154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/popular-mechanics.html' title='Popular Mechanics...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SNUMKmmZpUI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/KhGcqei4IXM/s72-c/0918082158%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-275565700042422156</id><published>2008-09-18T19:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T20:07:36.611-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The oldest man...</title><content type='html'>So, the oldest man turns 113 today. That's amazing. I'm not so sure I want to be here that long honestly. I had a great-great grandmother that died at 104. I just remember how fraile and fragile she was. She couldn't do a whole lot. I remember at six, or however old I was, that I felt sorry for her. So, I haven't decided if I want to die in my sleep or in some firey explosion. I guess we'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, didn't mean to get off on the whole death tangent. You know, good luck to you 113 year old man and all. Hope you have another happy birthday "and many more"... K?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched a 5 year old soccer game tonight. Actually, I had to help with the bench. I find it liberating to get on to other people's kids for an hour or so. Because I like kinda being bi-polar with them. It's mostly the boys. Like, one minute, be all.... "Sit down or you're going to fall." They're like, "No I won't"... Then, I'm like "Yeah, you will if I push you off the back of the bench, huh?"... I like snatching things away from them telling them that they're going to get really bad germs if they don't stop touching things. And, then, I like being all... "Wow, you did so good in the game. You're just a great little soccer player, aren't you?".... "You're so sweet" And smiling and picking at them and so forth... I know it's a little twisted, but some of these kids, damn. I like to go up against one that thinks they're not going to listen to me. Right. Like you're going to win. This one kid was all dancing on the field when he was supposed to be on the bench. I kept telling him to get back on the bench.... Snapping my fingers and pointing to the bench with the REALLY wide eyes and all. It would take a few tries, but he'd come over. I hope his mom was watching... What's she going to do? Tell me not to discipline her ill-behaved kid? Now, Mystery Man got his share of discipline as well. I really try to spread my discontentment evenly.... A little unbalanced, I know. Maybe I should up my med dose. But, that is just the kind of mood I was in tonight. Be really nice to the parents and then stick my tongue out at their kids when they turn around. Ha Ha! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that was my entertainment for the night. Don't tell me you don't have some off the wall twisted pleasure of your own. And, I'm not talking about the ones behind closed doors either.... Wow, don't get me started on that... (hehe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace out until I find more kids to screw with...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-275565700042422156?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/275565700042422156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=275565700042422156' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/275565700042422156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/275565700042422156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/oldest-man.html' title='The oldest man...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-3572507355166514524</id><published>2008-09-13T10:20:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T19:17:23.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I suck, I know...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;What's up people???? I'm making several posts to catch up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. I'm pathetic... I just got so used to being at home and having measly classes; then along came this semester, and POOF.... I'm more of a crazy mad woman than I usually am... I have NO time anymore. None. It's absolutely gone. And, I. am. going. mad. Just to defend myself, I'm in clinicals MWF now. And, it is CRAZY COOL!!!! I have seen the coolest as shit cases this week. I would love to sit here an bore you with all the details, but I'm way too scared of HIPA. However, I've gotten in with all the electrophysiology people due to my "story"... which is exactly where I want to be. However, I'm studing my ass off to make sure they don't try to move me from the EP labs because it's "too complicated"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are crazy as ever here... Today, Born Cool asks me... "If God only just created Adam or just Eve, who do you think would have invented electricity?" The questions are still coming...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MWP, I have a good quote for you. My brother spit this out for whatever reason the other day. I can't remember. I had a Bud Light Lime in my hand... Anyway, this is for you... "Wine a little bit. It'll make you feel better..." He said that and I almost spit out in front of Rain, "Hey, I gotta tell MWP about that"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to let you know, I've been thinking about all of you guys, and everybody's kids, etc. It's funny how you make friends from Lord knows where and you hold them near and dear. That's as mushy as I get. Unless you've already read the facebook posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the guys to guys to the zoo party again... I'll put up a few pics... Old Soul is "too old" for these kind of shinanigans... So, here's BC and MM...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SM2hqRmlbwI/AAAAAAAAAGo/k_H9IcS0WGg/s1600-h/372584-R1-024-10A_008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246026888608313090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SM2hqRmlbwI/AAAAAAAAAGo/k_H9IcS0WGg/s320/372584-R1-024-10A_008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went with Super Chick and Bear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SM2hxNxNtiI/AAAAAAAAAGw/JrThW9TOVMM/s1600-h/372584-R1-052-24A_022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246027007838238242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SM2hxNxNtiI/AAAAAAAAAGw/JrThW9TOVMM/s320/372584-R1-052-24A_022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to have a beer. I walked up to the Bud truck and who was standing there?? My cousin!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SM2iYlcUzBI/AAAAAAAAAG4/guSoucnIEFE/s1600-h/372584-R1-018-7A_005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246027684207971346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SM2iYlcUzBI/AAAAAAAAAG4/guSoucnIEFE/s320/372584-R1-018-7A_005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, yep, I was one of the very few out there with my kids AND a beer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SM2iiQ3tRnI/AAAAAAAAAHA/3LcMB-OeJo0/s1600-h/372584-R1-016-6A_004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246027850484369010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SM2iiQ3tRnI/AAAAAAAAAHA/3LcMB-OeJo0/s320/372584-R1-016-6A_004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's all I got for this one... I've got to hurry up and catch up with you guys...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-3572507355166514524?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3572507355166514524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=3572507355166514524' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/3572507355166514524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/3572507355166514524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-suck-i-know.html' title='I suck, I know...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SM2hqRmlbwI/AAAAAAAAAGo/k_H9IcS0WGg/s72-c/372584-R1-024-10A_008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-3189755050448788686</id><published>2008-09-04T21:53:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T19:16:29.372-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Testosterone overload</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I'll tell about a conversation I had with Born Cool tonight. Now, it's no secret I'm boy crazy. I love me some testosterone. However, I get tired of dealing with the testosterone that floods this house on a daily basis. I'm the only girl; and well, my only solace is doing something in the yard or something... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: BC, you want chili?&lt;br /&gt;BC: Sure&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok, here ya go. You want crackers and cheese and sour cream?&lt;br /&gt;BC: Yeah. Can you bring it in here?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok (WTF - am I your maid)... Oh wait, we're out of sour cream. Do you just want cheese and crackers in it.&lt;br /&gt;BC: &lt;i&gt;silence&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hey, did you hear me? What do you want? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I go into living room where he is sulking on the couch with his chili in front of him on a TV tray&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did you hear me? What do you want?&lt;br /&gt;BC: Nothing. Why did you eat all the sour cream?&lt;br /&gt;Me: We all did the other night we ate chili. It's just gone.&lt;br /&gt;BC: Well, go check the refrigerator again.&lt;br /&gt;Me: I did, SON. I guess you don't want anything else...&lt;br /&gt;BC: Well, I GUESS not.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (completely fed up at this point) You know, you don't have to be an ass to me because all the sour cream is gone. I gave you everything else you wanted. &lt;br /&gt;BC: (sits up and OPENS eyes) What? Why did you just call me that? Did you just call me an A-double S? &lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, you just should stop acting like one. How do you expect me to be a good mother if all you do is gripe and complain?? &lt;br /&gt;BC: It'll be fine without the sour cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Huffy mom walks away&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you see how things are going around here?? I'm losing my mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-3189755050448788686?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3189755050448788686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=3189755050448788686' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/3189755050448788686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/3189755050448788686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/testosterone-overload.html' title='Testosterone overload'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-6474232368977688642</id><published>2008-09-04T14:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T14:52:29.093-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm bAAAAAcccckkkk...</title><content type='html'>So, my computer has been down. It's up and runnin' now, so I've got so much catching up to do it ain't even FUNNY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This soccer thing is really starting up and I'm knee deep in plaid-printed capri-panted moms. I'm kinda scared. Not that I have anything against capri pants. They are really cute on some people. So, don't hate me if you wear them. They just don't look right on me. And, while you may be normal, I haven't really met anyone normal that's wearing them. I admire mom's that are on the PTO and PTA and stuff. And, buy the pizza on the fund-raising nights and sell lots of magazines to raise money for the cause. I do collect Box Tops... I collect a whole hell of a lot of them. That would probably really benefit one of my kid's class if I didn't take them and sell them on ebay... hehe...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is gearing up for me as well. I started clinicals Wednesday. They actually let me perform half of an open heart surgery. Not really. No, during one of the cases, I yelled "CLEAR" really loud just because I thought it would be funny. Not really. But, that would be FUNNY AS HELL... But, I'd probably get walked out. No, for real, it was pretty cool. I'm looking forward to going back tomorrow. I hear they're going to let me place a couple of stents. Not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even remember when I posted last. So much has happened since then. The guys are constant with they're jargon... Born Cool said at the dinner table the other night, "I'm as hungry as a cat that hasn't even eaten. And, I'm 86." Ok, see how well my kids are cared for... Mystery Man explained how he was taking clay and setting it on some type of battery thing with red and green wires in class the other day. I don't know. Sounds like a bomb to me. And, of course, Old Soul is all about talking about "chickin biscuits for breaskfastes at 11 o'clock in the mornin..." ? I don't know what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to one of Rain's friend's farm for Labor Day. I don't know how everybody else's Labor Day was, but I witnessed the massacare of probably thousands of doves. Kinda sad. I think Rain killed like two or something. (hehe) All I know is that I caught more fish than he killed birds. I, however, set my fish free to swim away to their families. I imagine there was nothing left of anyone's family in the dove world. I tried to take a couple more kittens home from the farm. I didn't work. But, I think if I press the issue, Rain may divorce me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the kids to another zoo party. Members only. Damn, we are &lt;i&gt;special&lt;/i&gt;. It was another good time to be had by all. I decided this time I was going to get myself a beer while my kids swam in bacteria infested waters. So, I went up to the huge Bud Light truck and who was standing there?? My cousin. Yep. Could have been all the free bud light I could have wanted. However, with no driver and the kids, I digresssed and was responsible. I only had like 10 or 12 beers or something... hehe... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I don't really have anything interesting to report. I probably almost had some regulars until I flaked out. Well, until my computer flaked out. So, I'm back. I'll probably spend all day tomorrow catching up on you guys... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace out...   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-6474232368977688642?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6474232368977688642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=6474232368977688642' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/6474232368977688642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/6474232368977688642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-baaaaacccckkkk.html' title='I&apos;m bAAAAAcccckkkk...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-4692149884144024438</id><published>2008-08-28T09:03:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T17:21:40.007-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Making yourself obsolete...</title><content type='html'>So, I decided to make a list for all husbands, and otherwise, to take note of. I was lounging in the living room with Rain yesterday while the kids were at school and he was teaching me something new... (ha! put your mind in the gutter, didn't I??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No. It wasn't anything like that. He was teaching me to re-load shotgun shells. Hence forth, here's a list, guys, of things your wife or girlfriend probably has no interest in learning unless she asks. Besides, once she does learn a lot of stuff like this... Well, you're making yourself obsolete... Oh, you say, we'd still &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; you in the bedroom... While there is nothing like the real thing, there are some pretty kick ass "toys" out there... They would do a fine job of holding someone over until the "real thing" came along... ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless she shows a genuine interest, your wife/girlfriend does not need to know how to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;General&lt;/u&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Re-load shotgun shells. (Obviously, this is first b/c I just learned how)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Replace the "compresser start relay" in the air condition box outside so her kids don't suffocate in July&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fix a damaged dryer vent&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do anything with a pilot light on the water heater or how to light the pilot on the other wierd unit in the attic that makes a lot of noise so you can have heat in the dead of winter&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take care of any "assembling" of anything in the house, ie - futons, desks, soda tables, etc&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;u&gt;Concerning cars&lt;/u&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;She should never have to go to an auto parts store and argue with the guy about how he's trying to sell her something that's not a real "idler belt pulley" or some other part. God forbid, she take her digital camera in the store with a picture she's taken just to prove the guy wrong.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;She does not need to know what a "serpentine" belt is or what exactly happens to the car when that belt breaks&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;She does not need to know how to do a brake job&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;She does not need to know "in theory" how to replace a radiator. It's so freakin' easy... Why the hell do they charge so much?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;If her cigarette lighter stops working, she should not know it's the fuse; or how to replace it&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;She does not need to know what an engine mount looks like, much less, help install one&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;She does not need to know how to take the radiator cap off and put water in the radiator when the car is still running&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm just sayin... I'm not bitchin or anything. Honestly, I think it's quite funny... I mean, you force her to learn how to do this stuff.... You better still be able to make her laugh like hell or something... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;However, Joaquin, if you're reading this and need a brake job &lt;del&gt;blow job&lt;/del&gt;, I'll be right over - haha. Sorry, I couldn't resist... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Off the subject, if you haven't checked this &lt;a href="http://crotchety-old-man-yells-at-cars.blogspot.com/"&gt;guy&lt;/a&gt; out yet, you should. He had a funny piece about squirrels the other day. In honor of that post and I told him I'd find this picture, here's the meanest ass squirrel you could ever come across... He lives in my parent's yard... My mom wanted to know why he was so mean... A squirrel with NO cover... However, I would love to have caught him and tamed him to be my pet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLcbpyjN2eI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/iObf5gqgW3s/s1600-h/DSCN1014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239687096226929122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLcbpyjN2eI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/iObf5gqgW3s/s400/DSCN1014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of pets, I've found my next pet... Check this OUT!! This web site on &lt;a href="http://www.savannahcatbreed.com/index.shtml"&gt;Savannah Cats&lt;/a&gt; is awesome and I'm in love... Apparently, they breed Serval wild cats into domestic cats... Check this picture out of somebody's cat in CA... You put these guys on leashes and walk them around and teach them how to fetch. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239691308569558162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLcfe-v9fJI/AAAAAAAAAGg/_bCmK9fc1Rc/s320/wyatt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after I get a job, I'm going to get a big ass cat and drive around in a bad ass convertible... This little town will never be the same... Ha..ha..ha..ha.. (evil laugh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-4692149884144024438?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4692149884144024438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=4692149884144024438' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4692149884144024438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4692149884144024438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/making-yourself-obsolete_28.html' title='Making yourself obsolete...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLcbpyjN2eI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/iObf5gqgW3s/s72-c/DSCN1014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-4239174526898504745</id><published>2008-08-25T13:03:00.017-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T17:16:33.417-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Worn slap out...</title><content type='html'>Ok... Considering how long my posts usually are... Consider this your break. I had a fantastic weekend with my three guys. I'm going to let pictures show how outstanding our weekend was... however, I started out today tired. And the backyard has not been cut in a couple of weeks. The kids started school, I started school and I've been trying to get myself back together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about 2.5 hours in the back yard, 8 lawn bags full of grass (because bagging is easier than raking), and one trip to get MORE gas for the lawn mower, I'm pretty much one very tired and very pissed off b!tch. Rain is out playing "get the dove field ready" at his buddy's farm today. Yea for you... Cause, yeah, come on, we gotta shoot them there birds outta the sky next Monday. Whatever. Enough ranting... It's probably the birth control pills they're trying to get me situation on... It's wreaking complete havoc with me... Anyway... Here's how fabulous my weekend was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, we met Ronald McDonald... He gave us crazy straws and crayons...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMp3aMBiXI/AAAAAAAAAFY/HO42_cJ7PoE/s1600-h/kids+and+ronald.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238576823461316978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMp3aMBiXI/AAAAAAAAAFY/HO42_cJ7PoE/s320/kids+and+ronald.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMp8jlI_VI/AAAAAAAAAFg/byruGKSX5xM/s1600-h/me+%26+ronald.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238576911881928018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMp8jlI_VI/AAAAAAAAAFg/byruGKSX5xM/s320/me+%26+ronald.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a quick conversation btw. Born Cool and Ronald...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;BC: (leans in and whispers) That's not really your hair right? It's a clown wig or something... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;RM: Actually, you're right. It is a clown wig. And see this make-up? It's clown make-up. I think you should look up clowns on the internet. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;BC: Ok. I'll do that. But, if I do, will you give me that iPod you're giving away? I don't have one yet. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;RM: I'll see what I can do. I think you're mom wants to take a picture now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To keep in step with the time order, we then drove to soccer practice. On the way, we saw something spectacular. The nearest college's mascot is a tiger. Well, we passed him. Him and his 6 police car/sherriff car brigade. It's the coolest thing. They cart this tiger around in this mobile cage. He just sits in his cage, all majestic and stuff. It is a cool site to see. Next time, I'll pull a u-turn and follow him home. I'll probably get arrested, but that's ok. I'll know where he lives. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;Super Chick and Bear came over that afternoon... Here's Bear. He's the cutest thing &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt;... We went to Old Navy and S.C. bought the kids fries... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMsIlPP3fI/AAAAAAAAAFw/YrEv1HxUKgg/s1600-h/bear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238579317508660722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMsIlPP3fI/AAAAAAAAAFw/YrEv1HxUKgg/s320/bear.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que Sunday... We went to church with my parents. Then we went to Ihop... Born Cool talked about pie the whole time... and how rich peanut butter is... What the? Anyway, Animal Planet shows up in the "big city" (like 30 min away)... I was really excited when I heard about it; but unfortunately, it turned out to be kinda second rate. However, I got some good pictures...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMr8rhGUdI/AAAAAAAAAFo/l85leBnMItk/s1600-h/742196-R1-018-7A_005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238579113035715026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMr8rhGUdI/AAAAAAAAAFo/l85leBnMItk/s320/742196-R1-018-7A_005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMsfDY2hqI/AAAAAAAAAGI/cpchpXYs3xk/s1600-h/boys+and+bison.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238579703559128738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMsfDY2hqI/AAAAAAAAAGI/cpchpXYs3xk/s320/boys+and+bison.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMsSsUf8XI/AAAAAAAAAF4/EiA5rVdxUvE/s1600-h/meerkat+kids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238579491208425842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMsSsUf8XI/AAAAAAAAAF4/EiA5rVdxUvE/s320/meerkat+kids.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMsZNKq4UI/AAAAAAAAAGA/BQMQLVv6dXE/s1600-h/snake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238579603104784706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMsZNKq4UI/AAAAAAAAAGA/BQMQLVv6dXE/s320/snake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See that snake? I tried to steal her, but she wouldn't fit in my purse... Damn. I would have loved to put her in my tub... It would have scared the piss out of Rain and I would have laughed and laughed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, so... I ran my mouth... At least I had a lot of pictures...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&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/3484887625291448678-4239174526898504745?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4239174526898504745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=4239174526898504745' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4239174526898504745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4239174526898504745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/worn-slap-out.html' title='Worn slap out...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SLMp3aMBiXI/AAAAAAAAAFY/HO42_cJ7PoE/s72-c/kids+and+ronald.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-8574800422822263608</id><published>2008-08-22T12:12:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T22:10:40.885-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My (Un)Spectacular World...</title><content type='html'>Well, I was tagged with this whole, "what's unspectacular about you" thing... Which, on the posts I've read so far, it's chocked full of highly intersting information... &lt;a href="http://georgienba.blogspot.com/"&gt;Georgie&lt;/a&gt; saw fit to tag me and I learned some awesome stuff about her- like how she can "will" songs on the radio because of her "sixth sense"... I read &lt;a href="http://lipstickatthemailbox.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lipstick's&lt;/a&gt; six things and learned that she has ACTUALLY skydived... Amazing girls, people... I'm glad Lipstick did the whole "I don't know what a 'meme' thing is"... I totally would have asked that... Anyway, here goes, from the bottom up. You know I love to talk and love to type. Some of them tie in together. If I lose you, that's okay. You can come back. What's totally (un)spectacular about the FlowerGirl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I was very prissy as a little girl. However, I moved to the country; and when certain kids would come over (one of which was a &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;blonde headed boy), we would play "Dukes of Hazard". I was, of course, Daisy Duke. But, I learned to become bothered by the fact that I wasn't near as tan as she was. Any rate, I made a fine, but plausible mud mixture and would cover my legs from my ankles to my upper thighs. It would dry, BAM... Daisy, you would have been proud. My mom sure was when I'd walk through the house...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I have an almost sick facination for vampires. Two of my things involve them. I've always been a vampire for Halloween. And. a damn good one at that. I figured out in the past ten years why. My pediatric dentist decided my mouth was too small for "all those teeth"... Quick, go to a mirror. Look at your front two teeth, then those pretty even edged teeth on either side, then your canines (otherwise know as incisors). Got it? He pulled the pretty even edged teeth. The permanent ones. So, my teeth go, two front teeth then incisors. Man, put some vampire caps on those babies and watch out. I'm out for blood. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. On that note, I had an awesome friend in college. We pulled all kinds of stupid stuff together. He would do this awesome impression of the first night he met me. I loved him. He was like a brother. Anyway, he loved that I loved vampires. So, one night in February, we went out to eat at a very popular burger joint. I dressed as an "undercover" vampire. Paled face, dark eye makeup, the caps on the teeth, whole nine yards. Needless to say, we'd cleared the restaurant by 9 p.m. Scared the crap out of everyone in that dining area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I survived the most spectacular car accident anyone could be in. My first car was a convertible - a red one with a black top. Driving back to my dorm from my parent's house one night, my heart quit and I blacked out. The car first hit head on a cluster of trees that deployed the air bag and threw me in the back seat (no seatbelt, which saved my life, crazy huh?) Anyhow, the car then rolled down, oh, probably at least a 30 foot ravine - with me in the backseat flopping around. Then, it decided to land upside down. I woke up, and obviously, all the windows were gone. I crawled out, tried to find my purse in the pitch black. Managed to find the awesome black leather biker jacket I had just gotten out of laway and &lt;strong&gt;ran&lt;/strong&gt; down the highway almost 2 miles to the nearest house. Did. Not. Break. A. Nail. When the firemen and paramedics arrived at the scene, I hear the car was already on fire. Two words. Damn. It. Tell me my guardian angel doesn't work overtime...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Speaking of convertibles, I've learned that you like them, you don't like them, you think they're kinda cool, or you're born to drive them. I am born to drive them. My second car was a convertible. Rain decided we should sell it after we got married. I'm getting another one after I get out of school; and I will eat in it, sleep in it and have sex in it. I will be one with my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Last but not least, I don't dig needles for myself. I don't mind giving someone a shot, but I don't really care for them. Beginning of that story, I gave blood when I was 16. Pulled the needle out, held the arm up, BAM, I had a 3rd degree seizure. I woke up with wet towels all over me. LifeBlood has black balled me. End of the story, even though childbirth hurts like hell, I've always been way too scared of that needle that goes in your back for that epidural. I've never had one. I'm kinda proud of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. As a bonus (and it's short, besides two people tagged me. Be glad I'm not doing 12), I love, love, love snakes. My first snake "disappeared" from my dorm room in college. Rat bastards probably flushed the little guy. Rain made me give my second snake away because he kept biting me. He name was Ra-Hee and he was beautiful. If he had only stopped biting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's it. I've got to tag 6 other people. Here are the rules and who I'm tagging...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Link the person who tagged you&lt;br /&gt;2. Mention the rules on your blog&lt;br /&gt;3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours&lt;br /&gt;4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them &amp;amp; leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they have been tagged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last part of the tag game is to send it to six people you want to know 6 insignificant or unspectacular quirks about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tagging...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. &amp;amp; 2.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.mommiemayhem.com/"&gt;MommieMayhem&lt;/a&gt;... I love their blog. They are so cool and always have me in stiches... I want to hear from both of you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://mamaneena.blogspot.com/"&gt;MamaNeena&lt;/a&gt;... I just found her blog. She looks so cute and her kids are so cute I could die. Quick, go see the pic of her little girl teething...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://twinziemom.blogspot.com/"&gt;TwinzieMom&lt;/a&gt;... I go to school with her... She's very cool. I gotta get her talkin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://mowineplease.blogspot.com/"&gt;MoreWinePlease&lt;/a&gt;... I love, love reading about her girls... and, her's are georgeous and so is she, and funny stuff happens over there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://thennobodyshappy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Shan&lt;/a&gt;... I just found her blog as well... We fellow smart asses have to stick together...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it folks... If you're still with me, you are a HELL OF A TROOPER...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-8574800422822263608?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8574800422822263608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=8574800422822263608' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8574800422822263608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8574800422822263608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-unspectacular-world.html' title='My (Un)Spectacular World...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-3339822638108612998</id><published>2008-08-21T14:49:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T15:03:22.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh no you didn't...</title><content type='html'>Here's a couple of good ones for ya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I made brownies for desert. Ok, fellow OSBers... turn away for a sec... &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;This is my weakness&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. So, I baked the brownies and everybody was happy. I &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;never really feel like &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;a brownie after I make them. Rain had bought the box of brownies, you know, deluxe, family size, 13 x 9 inch pan. I got the guys one each and they were happy as clams in sand. Rain cut himself one out, took a good look at it and said, "You know, I thought these would have baked up thicker than that since it was family size...". Yeah, it should have. I don't know why they didn't. The batter was only missing about 8 tablespoons (yes, I said tablespoons, NOT teaspoons) of batter. Shhheeezzzz. I know. Some of you may find it gross. Batter, of any kind, is my weakness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know I started back to school for fall. I was walking to my car and stumbled upon this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SK3IOrRpEpI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Fvr7B5oOr6s/s1600-h/0819081201%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237062096162198162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SK3IOrRpEpI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Fvr7B5oOr6s/s320/0819081201%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have no words. Duct tape can really be used for everything. I think this MAY be illegal... I can't say for sure, but I imagine their vision can't be that good with this ingenious idea... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Until something interesting falls in front of me, peace out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-3339822638108612998?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3339822638108612998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=3339822638108612998' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/3339822638108612998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/3339822638108612998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-no-you-didnt.html' title='Oh no you didn&apos;t...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SK3IOrRpEpI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Fvr7B5oOr6s/s72-c/0819081201%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-4926751724829545057</id><published>2008-08-19T08:52:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T09:15:19.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What the?</title><content type='html'>I never thought I'd have to answer questions like this... Born Cool keeps throwing them at me left and right. This morning before school they were watching cartoons. He wanted to know if the cartoons I watched before school when I was a "little girl" had SOUND. Well, I've told him over and over that my favorite cartoon is the Pink Panther. Come to think of it, there wasn't much sound in that cartoon if I remember correctly. Hmmm.... Maybe he's not as crazy as I thought he was... Wait a minute, it's NOT LIKE THAT. It was in color and the other cartoons had sound. Last week, he wanted to know if we had hairdryers back in the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still think he's on some mission to try to make me feel old. He's going to fail miserably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School officially starts today. I'm excited. I get to get out of the house and get away from these little punks who are trying to ruin my mentality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... So, there's a movie coming out and I'm so excited about it, I can't see straight. I actually hit the mailbox this morning while trying to pull out of the driveway and think about this movie at the same time... Not really, but it could totally happen... Here's the link...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.righteouskill-themovie.com/"&gt;Righteous Kill&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, I like a good chick flick. But give me a good cop/bad cop who thinks he's really doing good and I'm stuck... Not movin'... So, in light of this, here's my man of the day... I've loved him since I could walk... He can "hoo-wah" me anytime he want to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKrTBNEqXCI/AAAAAAAAAFI/yTVv-dEyJTo/s1600-h/al-pacino.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236229534414167074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKrTBNEqXCI/AAAAAAAAAFI/yTVv-dEyJTo/s320/al-pacino.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh, and I've got a post on &lt;a href="http://operationskinnybitch.blogspot.com/"&gt;Operation Skinny Bitch&lt;/a&gt;... It's just my take on things... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-4926751724829545057?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4926751724829545057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=4926751724829545057' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4926751724829545057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4926751724829545057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/what.html' title='What the?'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKrTBNEqXCI/AAAAAAAAAFI/yTVv-dEyJTo/s72-c/al-pacino.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-3037571177895190682</id><published>2008-08-17T18:02:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T08:38:03.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Village Idiot</title><content type='html'>So, here's my 'village idiot' story of the week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago, the cigarette lighter in my car broke. I couldn't listen to my iPod in the car or charge my phone. HUGE inconviences... I decided fairly promtly that the fuse must have blown and it needed to be replaced. I gave Rain his chance to 'fix' my car. I told him, the fuse is blown in the cig lighter. Do you want to replace it? After asking three times (becasue that's my max), I decided to do it myself. It's really no big deal. Pulled out the manual and found said fuse. Changed it out and felt pretty good about the whole thing. I dug around and found the actual cig lighter and put it in the hole to see if it would pop out and be all hot and orangy and stuff. After a few seconds, I thought, hell, I'll just plug the phone charger in to see if it's fixed. Pulled out the cig lighter and looked at it in all of it's dull, grayishness and thought... hell, it's not orange. SO... I touched it. Yep, it was fixed and that sucker was HOT. Burnt the FIRE out of my fingertip. Smart, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a damaged finger print, I should have gone and robbed the nearest bank. I would have totally not gotten caught. Damn...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smartness of fixing the thing was totally cancelled out. Then, later that night, I burnt my other hand pulling something out of the oven. Nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me 'Grace'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here's the man of the moment... I've mentioned before that I'm actually more into the 'older set', so here ya go. Put that hat on this man and give him that whip... Mmmmmm... Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKiwQdJNbKI/AAAAAAAAAFA/lEO7FG0Mabo/s1600-h/indiana-jones-and-the-kingdom-of-the-crystal-skull-ford.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235628363565853858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKiwQdJNbKI/AAAAAAAAAFA/lEO7FG0Mabo/s320/indiana-jones-and-the-kingdom-of-the-crystal-skull-ford.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off... I've got to go practice my 'damsel in distress' sigh... Here's hoping Indy shows up... whip and all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-3037571177895190682?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3037571177895190682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=3037571177895190682' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/3037571177895190682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/3037571177895190682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/village-idiot.html' title='The Village Idiot'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKiwQdJNbKI/AAAAAAAAAFA/lEO7FG0Mabo/s72-c/indiana-jones-and-the-kingdom-of-the-crystal-skull-ford.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-145592824736956566</id><published>2008-08-17T13:51:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T16:21:03.665-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Soccer, Super Chick and Lipstick...</title><content type='html'>Ok. So, soccer got cancelled Friday b/c of the "torrential" rain (notice I didn't capitalize "rain", so it there really was wet stuff falling from the sky..) Whew... However, we had it Saturday. It was hot and I kinda got sunburned on my legs. I hate that; you know, when you have shorts on... Anyway, it was a small victory. I actually interacted with one of the parents. I totally agreed with him that our team's name should be the "Wild Kudzu". Our color is green. If you don't know what "kudzu" is, it's a vine that grows EVERYWHERE in the South and is totally destructive. Anyway, they went with the "Dragons"... So cliche, but whatever. I suppose things that breath fire are cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super Chick and Bear (her little one) came over this weekend. She decided by the time they left that he would need a 'big rig'... aka - Optimus Prime... Then we tried to make dinner. Since I have nothing to eat, we had grilled cheese. But, she's so cool. She goes everywhere with this arsenal of fruit and 'crunchies' for the little guy. Yes, she has a boy as well. There is NO pink in my life. Even though Big Rig was eating his grilled cheese, Bear would have no part of it. It's so funny to watch her little one and remember what it was like when mine wouldn't eat anything but, oh, I don't know, cardboard for example. After grilled cheese, blueberries, strawberries, a tangelo, Bear finally decided on 'crunchies' for dinner. It's just funny...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Lipstick, this one is for you... On the way home from soccer, here was the conversation with Born Cool...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BC: Did you ever get Lipstick's email?&lt;br /&gt;Me: What?&lt;br /&gt;BC: Did you ever get Lipstick's email?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah... Why?&lt;br /&gt;BC: I was just wondering, you know, since you went to high school with her and all.&lt;br /&gt;Me: You like Lipstick, huh?&lt;br /&gt;BC: Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Me: She's pretty, isn't she?&lt;br /&gt;BC: Yeah, but I think she'd be a good babysitter.&lt;br /&gt;Me: What?? You know she's a mom too, right?&lt;br /&gt;BC: Yeah, but I think she would be fun to play games with.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh yeah, what kind of games...&lt;br /&gt;BC: I don't know; like maybe Wii games or something. Mario Cart maybe?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Maybe you're right...&lt;br /&gt;BC: I mean, I can already beat you on all those games. I'm just sayin'...&lt;br /&gt;Me: So, you're saying I'm no good...&lt;br /&gt;BC: I didn't say that. I'm just sayin'... Can we go get me a Gatorade?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's only met you once; but apparently, you left an impression. He even totally remembered your name correctly and all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to church with my dad today, so I'm just getting off to Wally World. I don't know who likes Oreo's here, but I tried the "Banana Split" Oreos. If you like the taste of banana laffy taffy, then you would like these. Super Chick says the peanut butter ones are good. I think I'll try those... I'll let you know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back with a hot guy later. I'm meditating on who deserves their picture on my blog... If I see a hot guy at Wally World, I'll just take his pic... Later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-145592824736956566?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/145592824736956566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=145592824736956566' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/145592824736956566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/145592824736956566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/soccer-super-chick-and-lipstick.html' title='Soccer, Super Chick and Lipstick...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-7619871986180642658</id><published>2008-08-14T19:30:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T16:13:11.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gibberish speak...</title><content type='html'>I had my eyes checked less than a month ago. But, I'm just convinced that Google is trying to prepare us for some weird-type of language that'll be coming down the pipes... maybe after an alien invasion... Those stupid codes always have me squinting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... My neighbor was carjacked last night. She was in the nearby major city. Now, I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. He put a gun to her head, etc. So, through the course of the conversation, I find out he really stole a loaner because her car is at the dealer having work done. So, I guess if that was me, I'd be happy I was alive and that I have my own car. I think it's kinda funny he got the loaner. **disclaimer - I don't think this type of situation is funny and I know it's serious. However, I believe there's humor to be had in any type of situation because if not, you would be in a REAL bad way**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got Born Cool's soccer practice tonight. Fantastic. Outstanding. I am so excited. Call me 'soccer mom' and I'm likely to come through the screen... I have never cried because my son's team lost a game. I have never slapped my child because he missed a goal. I just sit back and watch because I think that it's those parent's who's child kicks ass... ha! I secretly like to see him kick ass. I mean, who doesn't, really? I want him to get in there and be rough and trip people. And yell in their face when he does good and they do bad. I want him to bury some kids in the grass. And, I'm soooo serious about that... &lt;del&gt;kidding&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mystery Man refuses to talk about kindergarten still. I'm convinced they're running some kind of covert operation out of that classroom and the kids have all been threatened. Maybe the kids are all in it. Maybe they're making some 'special' kind of glue or maybe that's not glitter in the tubes. Maybe I need to sniff the next project that comes home real good. Or taste it. I don't know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Born Cool's teacher threatened several times this week that her 'nice' was going away. I'm still not real sure what that means. I'm thinking she may be in need of therapy. Or maybe she needs to borrow my bottle of crazy pills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Soul has had a rough start. Rain seems to think that it's my fault because of my organizational skills. He has laid out a plan and went through it step by step with me. He forgets that I'm the other parent and that I am, indeed, smarter than a 5th grader. Oh, how I do get tired of the Rain sometimes. *rolls eyes* I dropped O.S. off in the a.m.; and in the line stands his band leader (who's a cutie) and the new assistant principle (also a cutie). Anyway, I was jamming out to Shake It (Metro Station) this morning and told him I was going to wink and blow kisses that the guys. I thought he was going to start crying before I dropped him off. He knows I'd do it. Just not this morning....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm thinking what you're about to see will dazzle and amaze you... Check it out. It's glittery and it meows... Acorn King, if you're there, I'm so not getting a bedazzler... This cat's the bomb...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKXN4hmXSVI/AAAAAAAAAEg/LGDnUWzy47Y/s1600-h/glitter+cat.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234816512863717714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKXN4hmXSVI/AAAAAAAAAEg/LGDnUWzy47Y/s320/glitter+cat.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you that need a little more... Here's a hot guy... And, this is a REAL picture. If you're not familiar with tennis, this is Andy Roddick. I think he's flipping hot and he serves that ball at like 150 miles an hour. Super powerful and that's a HUGE turn on for me. He comes to my town for a tennis tournament. We were walking down the 'tournament hall' to his next match. I decided it would be a good photo op. I don't know why our escort (the old guy) looked at me like that. Geeeesh... We had drinks the night he lost. It's unfortunate that he's found some super model (whatever) and how they're getting married. I'm sure he'll never forget our 'special' time in ******* together...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKXO4pcOmVI/AAAAAAAAAEw/mrdV2QzkpNU/s1600-h/andy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234817614480316754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKXO4pcOmVI/AAAAAAAAAEw/mrdV2QzkpNU/s320/andy.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'll be away contemplating whether or not to wear my Wally World trailer-trash-lace-trimmed-tight-fitting tank top to soccer practice or my designer skort set from Dillards. I just wish I could be a normal mom sometimes... ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/3484887625291448678-7619871986180642658?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7619871986180642658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=7619871986180642658' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/7619871986180642658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/7619871986180642658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/gibberish-speak.html' title='Gibberish speak...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKXN4hmXSVI/AAAAAAAAAEg/LGDnUWzy47Y/s72-c/glitter+cat.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-8463046170115824395</id><published>2008-08-11T17:53:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T19:11:17.215-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And the winners are.....</title><content type='html'>I've been away. Again. Blame it on the Rain... (remember that stupid song by Milli Vinilli??) Anyway, I'll get straight to the point of tonight's post...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello. And Welcome. I'm glad you all could make it... This is a very special day. My super cool blog friend, Georgie, as you all know, bestowed on me this award...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="MammaDawg" href="http://www.mammadawg.com/2008/08/kick-ass-blogger-award.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Kick Ass Blogger Award" src="http://i334.photobucket.com/albums/m407/mammadawg/Award_150px.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you believe it?? Being the novice I am, I'm not sure this is COMPLETELY in order... However, I'm takin' it and runnin'... One of the stipulations is that I pass this prestigious award on to five other bloggers... So, here they are... Some of them have a lot of awards already, some not so much... ANY RATE, I've picked them because they've engaged me and/or made me laugh. Here ya go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://lipstickatthemailbox.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lipstick At The Mailbox&lt;/a&gt;... Lipstick, thank you for opening up this whole new blog world to me... I can vent and say whatever the hell I need to and it doesn't matter because here, I can be who I really am... and, that's fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://mowineplease.blogspot.com/"&gt;More Wine Please&lt;/a&gt;... You're one of the first blogs I started reading that made me giggle. I love hearing stories about your girls and I love a good cab sav. BTW... what's your fav? Mine currently is a Chilean wine whose bottle comes wrapped in a burlap sac. It's also cheap. If you haven't tried it, give it a shot and let me know what you think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.mommiemayhem.com/"&gt;Mommie Mayhem&lt;/a&gt;... This is one I have very recently discovered... You gals make me laugh... This is a funny blog... I'm actually kinda sad to discover that Daddy Longs Legs aren't the most poisonous spider around. Oh well, I guess I can still chase the kids around with them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://crotchety-old-man-yells-at-cars.blogspot.com/"&gt;Crotchety Old Man Yells At Cars&lt;/a&gt;... Ok, Ok, I know you just got a bunch of awards... But, you got my attention with that 'kitchen gaget' thing... I still don't know what it is tonight; and if I don't find out soon, I may never sleep again. This guy's a funny read as well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://momjeansblogger.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Soccer Mom Files&lt;/a&gt;... You may not even know who I am but I've been reading your blog and you are hysterical. I love the whole "mom jeans bit". Reverend Doctor Kristen Valentine, you really are a comic genius...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what you gotta do to get this little precious...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Choose 5 other bloggers that you feel are “Kick Ass Bloggers”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Let them know that they have received an award&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Link back to both the person who awarded you and also &lt;a href="http://georgienba.blogspot.com/"&gt;Georgie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Visit the Kick Ass Blogger Club HQ , to get codes click &lt;a href="http://www.mammadawg.com/2008/08/kick-ass-blogger-award.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and it will take you to KABC HQ, sign Mr. Linky then pass it on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's it... Again, I'd like to thank my rockin' friend, &lt;a href="http://georgienba.blogspot.com/"&gt;Georgie&lt;/a&gt;... If you haven't checked out her blog yet, well, you have a rock for a brain... She's hilarious and has taught me some kick ass blog moves &lt;del&gt;See how cool I am now&lt;/del&gt;... I'll need to pay tribute to the blogger that passed it on to her... &lt;a href="http://www.mammadawg.com/"&gt;MammaDawg&lt;/a&gt;... Also, a funny one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lipstickatthemailbox.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://lipstickatthemailbox.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-8463046170115824395?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8463046170115824395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=8463046170115824395' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8463046170115824395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8463046170115824395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-winners-are.html' title='And the winners are.....'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-8777680222486173591</id><published>2008-08-11T16:13:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T16:34:30.999-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey cool... no.. hey, wait a minute...</title><content type='html'>So, we had a Walgreens open up down the street. Super cool. Now I can really run just up the road a bit to get small stupid stuff. And, I was super psyched to get this is in the mail...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCsJ1VGnRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/lTDXYN-b9Us/s1600-h/0811081509%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233372051938909458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCsJ1VGnRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/lTDXYN-b9Us/s320/0811081509%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fantastic! A cool $25 for just transferring a prescription. I ran down today and handed over my bottle of "crazy pills" for transfer. Awesome. I'll be back to get that... I was inspecting the check and read the 'fine print'....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCsihv4AhI/AAAAAAAAAD8/CoXWQWCqHTg/s1600-h/0811081509a%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233372476179218962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCsihv4AhI/AAAAAAAAAD8/CoXWQWCqHTg/s320/0811081509a%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dang! You mean I can't get liquored up after I get those crazy pills filled?? Man, I needed some milk for da baby. Why you gotta hate on dairy, liquor and cigs?? Dang... where's the love... &lt;/p&gt;Anyway, I'll be back later to pass out that award. Gotta look CLOSELY at the directions so I don't mess it up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;AND, Predator says you get people's attention with glittery things and pics of cats. Well, I have no glittery things, but check out my cats... They're SUPER cool... Don't you love me more?? Introducing Snow and Minnie... Can you figure out which is which??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCtsX2E52I/AAAAAAAAAEE/EToHQXdODho/s1600-h/0412082338%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233373744831194978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCtsX2E52I/AAAAAAAAAEE/EToHQXdODho/s320/0412082338%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCt_XLJezI/AAAAAAAAAEM/nD3bVzkyZlw/s1600-h/0722081602%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233374071068654386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCt_XLJezI/AAAAAAAAAEM/nD3bVzkyZlw/s320/0722081602%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, when I get a picture of a glittery cat, I'll be the bomb!! Hot guys seem to get attention... Here's #1 on my list... (Colin, you're hot, but here's my main man...) Joaquin, I will love you forever...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCv4yPbzsI/AAAAAAAAAEY/e_y4HJrQB0w/s1600-h/joaquin-phoenix-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233376157098561218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCv4yPbzsI/AAAAAAAAAEY/e_y4HJrQB0w/s320/joaquin-phoenix-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/3484887625291448678-8777680222486173591?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8777680222486173591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=8777680222486173591' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8777680222486173591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8777680222486173591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/hey-cool-no-hey-wait-minute.html' title='Hey cool... no.. hey, wait a minute...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SKCsJ1VGnRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/lTDXYN-b9Us/s72-c/0811081509%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-8732942416673748167</id><published>2008-08-10T18:00:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T18:33:42.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All over the place...</title><content type='html'>So, I'm all over the place tonight... First let me say, I'm pretty pathetic. It's "fend for yourself" night. I feel hard pressed to get something out before Rain gets home. Strange, isn't it... Mystery Man just ate a PB&amp;amp;J for dinner accompanied by those pastel, flavored marshmellows. Yeah, kid, whatever you want. Now, tell me I'm not pathetic! Mother of the year, I am not tonight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my super-cool-music-blog girl, Georgie, has sent me an award!! She rocks so hard; and as soon as I figure out who I'm sending it to and all that jazz, I'll have an awesome kick ass award! I know I've got people reading. It's a small group, but it's growing... You need to be commenting, so I'll know you're out there! Apparently, Colin (from previous post) got a lot of attention according to the stat people. Nobody really decided to say anything about him, except for the few that aren't scared. Maybe I was out of line on that post... Sorry about that... &lt;del&gt;I don't care.&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, she's also teaching me to do cool stuff like the wistful signature at the bottom. And, I'm sure before it's all done, I will have done a 'strike through'. She also posted about a market research group. Anyway, I signed up and Born Cool qualified for the survey she posted about. He's going to get a FREE, say it again, FREE video game that he gets to KEEP. Hopefully, I think it's for the Wii. I'm so super psyched about anything free that I can't see straight. If you haven't turned yourself on the to free section of the Wally World web site and you love free stuff, please so do. It's under the last tab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discovered something else cool... These cool little blog surveys... Interestingly enough, it's pretty correct. Except for the expensive taste. I've conditioned myself out of that since I got married - ha... &lt;del&gt;not really&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You are the Sense of Touch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/whichofthefivesensesareyouquiz/touch.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You are a highly sensitive and easily moved person.&lt;br /&gt;You love to get as close to other people as possible.&lt;br /&gt;Human connection is very important to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are also likely to be an animal lover who loves animals as much as humans.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, you like almost anything soft!&lt;br /&gt;You have expensive taste in clothes and furniture. It's all about the fabric.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca"&gt;Which of the Five Senses Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another subject I need for you to weigh in on... My house is hot as hell and we're handwashing dishes. I'm trying to "save energy". More importantly, I'm trying to get our out of control energy bill down. Thermostat set to 78, I think that's making everybody cranky, we're pretty much living in the dark and handwashing dishes. If you've got any other ideas, let me know. I don't know how much more primitive we can get. I used a box fan while I was putting makeup today. I had to convince Born Cool that, yes, in 1987 we did have hairdryers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm a spaz today. Can't help it... Don't know what's wrong other than the fact that I'm hot... and 'strike-through' kicks ass. Thanks Georgie!! I'm off to watch my cats play with the flavored marshmellows... I love to watch them so delicately swat them around the floor, then pick them up like they're dead or something... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/256/F78A7AC3CF414635ACD6AEA53ED460C4.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-8732942416673748167?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8732942416673748167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=8732942416673748167' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8732942416673748167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8732942416673748167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/all-over-place.html' title='All over the place...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-402525385335411436</id><published>2008-08-08T19:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T19:51:50.391-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We're on our way...</title><content type='html'>MWP... We're on our way... Wait, he's got to finish his pre-party beer... BTW... See that arm with that red bracelet on? Yeah, that's my arm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJzmvdHYfKI/AAAAAAAAADk/UggUZC-82tE/s1600-h/colin+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232310570041506978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJzmvdHYfKI/AAAAAAAAADk/UggUZC-82tE/s320/colin+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as;lvkando;aerionioenrbonqopqaerhbqarnb;ioerytnbrweqioyaetphjnbweroiyjtobhjqweryjohibo35roierjqohw5ypqbhb3pjq3opiopeihj.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whhhheeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwww.... *panting heavy* Sorry, we got distracted. Keyboard got in the way... He's in the bathroom cleaning up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJzm9QXytHI/AAAAAAAAADs/FhbeoHUZ_ms/s1600-h/colin+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232310807138841714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJzm9QXytHI/AAAAAAAAADs/FhbeoHUZ_ms/s320/colin+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be there in a sec... ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-402525385335411436?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/402525385335411436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=402525385335411436' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/402525385335411436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/402525385335411436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/were-on-our-way.html' title='We&apos;re on our way...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJzmvdHYfKI/AAAAAAAAADk/UggUZC-82tE/s72-c/colin+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-8528452630386343531</id><published>2008-08-08T16:24:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T18:45:22.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday night, woo-hoo...</title><content type='html'>So, tonight is pizza night. If you've got a Sam's Club near you, run, don't walk. They have awesome, huge pizzas that are really good and really CHEAP. I mean, I can get a cheese pizza and it feeds me and all three of my guys! It cost less than $9. It used to be less that $8, but I guess with gas to high and all, it's costing more to get them to the club. Whatever. I'm so sick of hearing that. (old man's bogus bullshit voice) "Well, you know gas has gone up; and well, we've got to increase our prices..." WHAT? You mean gas has gone up? No way. Anyway, I live for pizza night... Besides, it's the only place I can go and get a fountain CFDC (caffeine-free diet coke).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second day of school... Better. Mystery Man actually PLAYED with three kids. Born Cool has nothing exciting to report - good; no "shut up"s today. Old Soul's actually starting to complain about the locker situation... Hmmmm... maybe I should take my lockers up there and he could have, not one, but six.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of gas prices, our Kroger is rocking with gas at $3.50. With the card - $3.47. If you've got the points, $3.40!! So, I'm in line because there's probably at least 2 cars waiting at each pump. I'm behind this monstrous truck that actually had TWO (count 'em), TWO gas tanks. Big Ass Truck. The woman driving it needed a step ladder to get in it. Anyway, I was behind her. She pulls off and BAM, this guy in a car that was in front of her totally muscles me out and takes my spot. Thanks pal. Happy *bleeping* friday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I had to break from the blog to get the pizza. Old Soul was dying to get out of the house to see his buddy. I make him watch the other minions while I run that errand. Look at what Sam's has got out already!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJzaN3fPhhI/AAAAAAAAADc/okFYgA-iPPg/s1600-h/0808081658%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232296798865819154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJzaN3fPhhI/AAAAAAAAADc/okFYgA-iPPg/s320/0808081658%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Halloween, really, is my favorite holiday. Simply because, you get to dress up and and be somebody or something else. Maybe I have issues, but that's okay. I LOVE to dress up as somebody else... Anyway, it got me all excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, what really got me all excited was my webcam fix today... Webcams are the best invention ever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy weekend y'all!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-8528452630386343531?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8528452630386343531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=8528452630386343531' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8528452630386343531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/8528452630386343531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/friday-night-woo-hoo.html' title='Friday night, woo-hoo...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJzaN3fPhhI/AAAAAAAAADc/okFYgA-iPPg/s72-c/0808081658%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-6853446106355594298</id><published>2008-08-07T18:07:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T21:08:13.260-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Chick...</title><content type='html'>So, yesterday, I had lunch with my girl, Super Chick. That'll be her assigned name... Because she is just that... We've been running around side by side since we were 8 years old. We have the same birthday, so we've been having our birthday parties together for as long as I can remember. I think the coolest one was the one at the skating ring in 5th grade. We had some kickin' super cool clothes... I think we've only missed like one, maybe two, birthdays or something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was able to break free from the house - a major deal around here. We met at our joint downtown and pigged out on some awesome burgers... She works downtown for the government. She's kickin' all kinds of ass in a testosterone dominated field. Seriously kickin' ass... I went on a business trip this past spring with her and got to watch her give a presentation about a project she's managing. I just thought it was cool that she's presenting all this stuff to this room full of mostly men that are a good 10-15 years older than us. I wanted to stand up and clap when she was done... She's my girl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I hope everybody has a girlfriend like that... Everybody needs one... We're more like sisters... I actually told a guy that yesterday and he believed me... &lt;p&gt;So, that's my friend gushing for the day... Like I said, everybody ought to have a girl like that... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-6853446106355594298?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6853446106355594298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=6853446106355594298' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/6853446106355594298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/6853446106355594298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/super-chick.html' title='Super Chick...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-4827985803424511217</id><published>2008-08-07T17:25:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T18:05:50.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The boys are BACK!</title><content type='html'>First off, let me say that my music soul sister, Georgie, and her blog, &lt;a href="http://georgienba.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://georgienba.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;, ROCKS... She had a contest and I'm so psyched that I was the lucky winner!! Yes, people, do you hear that?? I'm a WINNER!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I feel like I've been away for eternity. This blog is my little secret - not Rain's... Anyway, he's off Monday thru Wednesday and I've known that'll knock me off my little "project" every now and then... This week happened to be that 'now and then'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the boys started back to school today. Here's a pic before they left this morning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJt-iVtJl-I/AAAAAAAAACs/T_JP5UXnIJ8/s1600-h/first+day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231914520528132066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJt-iVtJl-I/AAAAAAAAACs/T_JP5UXnIJ8/s320/first+day.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were pretty excited, a little nervous, and a little foggy about a new school year. I picked them up today and here's the report...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Mystery Man! Tell me all about your first day of kindergarden!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MM: Nah, I don't feel like it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Plllllleeeeeaaaassssseeeeee! Just tell me a little bit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MM: Nah, my mouth is tired...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did you talk a lot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MM: Nah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did you talk to ANYBODY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MM: Nah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did you make any new friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MM: Nah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fantastic... He's just like his mother. He went in and sat back and just assessed the situation today. And, he's a little shy... I love his teacher so far, so I'm optomistic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Born Cool, how was your first day of 3rd grade?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BC: Oh, you know, it was okay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did you talk to anybody?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BC: Yeah, I know so and so, and so and so, and so and so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Did your teacher help you put up your supplies?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BC: She did. She didn't make us do to much work today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, that's good for a first day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BC: She accidently told the girl that sits beside me to "shut up"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: The TEACHER did?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BC: Yeah, but it was an accident...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: **disgruntled face**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, another vague report. Yeah, Born Cool's teacher was NOT the one I got the warm and fuzzy feeling from. It's going to be an interesting year? However, I'm reserving judgement. I've made plenty of mistakes. I know I've told my kids to 'shut up' before. I'd probably be pissed if that girl was mine... So, we'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Old Soul, how was the first day on top? (8th grade...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OS: Oh, it was fine. I've got someone I know in all my classes. My teachers all seem pretty nice and I dropped off all my supplies except science but that was because I couldn't get to my locker. We have scheduled locker times and I just didn't know. I'll get it to them tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Great! I'm glad you had a good first day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OS: Yeah, the school said they ordered new lockers. Some people are having to share lockers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: What??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OS: Yeah, I'm on of those people...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: WHAT??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OS: I'm sharing with a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;strong&gt;WHAT??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OS: It'll be okay mom. Don't get mad. They ordered them back in May. They just haven't gotten here yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, that's Old Soul. A full and completely detailed report... Not real happy with the whole locker situation, but I guess ranting and raving won't get them here any faster... I'm not worried about OS. I never worry abut him... He's like a 40 year old in a 13 year old's body...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, school's off to a decent start, I guess. If MM will talk to some other kids and make some friends, I'll feel better. If BC doesn't get cussed by his teacher at school tomorrow, I'll feel better. If OS falls in love with the girl he's sharing lockers, she better damn well be a good egg...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, off to another post on a different topic... I've got catching up to do...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-4827985803424511217?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4827985803424511217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=4827985803424511217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4827985803424511217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4827985803424511217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/boys-are-back.html' title='The boys are BACK!'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJt-iVtJl-I/AAAAAAAAACs/T_JP5UXnIJ8/s72-c/first+day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-35698524614050935</id><published>2008-08-05T08:22:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T08:51:22.159-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Uuuuuggggg....</title><content type='html'>Open House for everyone is tonight. It's time to take the school supply lists to Wally World today I think. I'm dreading it. I'll go by myself to fight the madness alone... Any other time of the year, I'm all for perusing the office/school supply isle. 23 isles of office/school supplies is too much for me to handle. It's like pencil overload...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Born Cool initiated some board game fun last night. We operated on Homer Simpson and followed that with a game of Trouble. He, Mystery Man and I played and no one cheated. Mystery Man and I followed up with a card game of War. Old Soul flipped out because the Guitar Hero disc wouldn't work. He was having a fit on Born Cool because he thought he damaged the disc. B.C. was calm an told his older brother several times he'd put the disc in wrong. Nope, Old Soul was not hearing any of this. He was certain B.C. has ruined it. Anyway, I looked up and told him to take the disc out. It was in backwards. Oh, how I love sibling rivalry. This was all after going to the pool. Again. They're probably not, but I'm completely water-logged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, ever have one of those moments when you just want to crawl under a rock and die? Sure, we all do. Yesterday, this guy from a local company comes by to give us a $20 gas card. All we have to do is sit through his demonstration. He comes in the house and hasn't had any air in his car, so he's hot and nervously worked up. I gave him a glass of water and he's trying to calm himself down. Through surface discussion, Rain finds out what he's selling. Well, a college buddy of Rain's sold these things; and he immediately decides he's not sitting through this demonstration. After a really awkward "talk", I had my tail tucked between my legs and ushered the man to our door. Rain basically kicked him out. I told him I was sorry. I was mortified. And, I didn't get my gas card. Ever thought you married someone SO opposite of you, it's literally painful? I thought sitting there for around 40 minutes would have totally been worth that little gas card. And, no, I would not have bought the product. Maybe this is just a man/woman issue? Regardless, it was my painful moment. Lesson learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, one of my buddies is doing a giveaway. I haven't run across one of these yet and think it's super fun! Check it out... &lt;a href="http://georgienba.blogspot.com/2008/08/giveaway15-amazon-gcgiveaway.html"&gt;http://georgienba.blogspot.com/2008/08/giveaway15-amazon-gcgiveaway.html&lt;/a&gt;. It ends tonight, so get moving!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-35698524614050935?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/35698524614050935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=35698524614050935' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/35698524614050935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/35698524614050935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/uuuuuggggg.html' title='Uuuuuggggg....'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-6983769971967204284</id><published>2008-08-04T08:17:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T08:39:42.901-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='back to school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yard'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weed eating'/><title type='text'>Escort Monday in with a smile?</title><content type='html'>So, the weekend's over. This is not a big deal to me today. However, in a week, it will be. The guys go back to school this Thursday. Rain works Thursday through Sunday; so this Thursday, the kids will be in school and Rain will go to work. Heck yeah! I'll get two glorious weeks before I go back to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a good, productive weekend. Couple of victorious moments, a 'crap, I knew that would happen' moment, and a near death experience (not really, but it was scary). Victories first - I fixed the fuel lines on the weed eater, wound the twine on the weed eating head correctly and weed eated. I do all the yard work (cut, edge, blow), except weed eating. I hate it. I always have something fly up and cut one of my legs. However, Rain had not seen fit to do it in like a month or something grotesque... The 'crap, I knew it would happen' moment - yep, a rock flew up and cut my leg while weed eating. The near death experience - I decided to sand and clean my lockers to get them ready to paint. Well, I drug them out of the garage and was happily cleaning away in the 110 degree heat index. Then, I decided to move them to a more level ground. Yeah, they fell over. Fantastic. Some guy moving grass at the house for sale across the street drove over and helped me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Rain about the whole weed eating experience. He said that even after all these years, he's still learning things about me. I told him that even after all these years, I'm still being forced to learn to do new things because he won't get off his ass. He thought that was funny. Yeah, me too. NOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I took the guys to the pool at the Y Sunday for a few hours after the morning trip to Wally-World. Here they are after a few hours of fun in the sun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJcET0g3RTI/AAAAAAAAACk/lQWjn0fEqZ8/s1600-h/0803081551%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230654230774629682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJcET0g3RTI/AAAAAAAAACk/lQWjn0fEqZ8/s320/0803081551%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; See how happy and tired they look? Awesome! Mission accomplished...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, welcome Monday. You're bringing a week I've been waiting for... Is it just me or is everybody ready for their kids to go back to school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-6983769971967204284?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6983769971967204284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=6983769971967204284' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/6983769971967204284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/6983769971967204284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/escort-monday-in-with-smile.html' title='Escort Monday in with a smile?'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJcET0g3RTI/AAAAAAAAACk/lQWjn0fEqZ8/s72-c/0803081551%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-5458025409775860956</id><published>2008-08-02T19:01:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T07:59:51.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kickin' it old school... kinda...</title><content type='html'>So, while in American Eagle the other day, I heard a song that sounded familiar. It reminded me of another time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in fourth grade, I had this bad ass tape player...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJT1qbt5EzI/AAAAAAAAACE/CsEPrOkdLyo/s1600-h/fisher+price+tape+player.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230075176627540786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJT1qbt5EzI/AAAAAAAAACE/CsEPrOkdLyo/s200/fisher+price+tape+player.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I brought it to school and would play this newly released, super cool tape... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJT9o4ED4EI/AAAAAAAAACc/cMdvhP05nlc/s1600-h/thriller+pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230083945969999938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJT9o4ED4EI/AAAAAAAAACc/cMdvhP05nlc/s200/thriller+pic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJT14Z6qJBI/AAAAAAAAACM/KPNIWFGsHEU/s1600-h/thriller+pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Man, I thought I was so super cool. I got in trouble for playing it at snack time. The grouchy teacher said I could only play it at recess. Where was the love?? And, we used to have that wax candy that had that juice inside it. We would chew them up and form the wax in to fake nails. Gross, huh? &lt;/p&gt;Back to shopping in A.E... (Yeah, for the record, I'm a clearance rack shopper only in that joint) Anyway, I was listening and I realized I was listening to a remake of "Beat It". You've probably heard it. If you haven't, check it out on that playlist to your right. It's by Fall Out Boy. I don't know how you feel about Pete Wenz, but he doesn't do too bad of a job. Personally, he wears a little too much eyeliner for me and he's a little young... I'm more a fan of the older set... Anyway, if you're from the "Thriller" era, weigh in on this for me, would ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as far as my playlist goes, I'm going to comment on a few of the songs... Buttons and Promiscuous Girl - if these don't make you want to dance around your house (possibly on your kitchen table) like the MILF you know you are, then I don't know what would... Shut Up and Apologize are some of my theme songs... Come Undone and Sadness - damn, just give me a black light in a room with a black poster board bed and a white comforter and a hot guy... Meet Virginia - pretty sure I'm her long lost sister (as well as the other 1,000 women who think that because, although Pat Monahan is short, he's hot)... Right now, I just can't get enough of the Jason Mraz song, I'm Yours... When me and the guys get in the car, they ask if I'm going to put in my 'happy song'... It's just so carefree and island-like and cool... "well, you done done me and you bet I felt it... I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted..." yeah, you know who you are...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I'm curious as to what you're into right now. So, let me know what moves you. I might end up finding something else that moves me... I'm always on the look-out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;BTW, for y'all from the "Thriller" era... My, how time changes things???? This is a current pic from his site, I think. He really does kinda look like a young Liz Taylor or something? Sorry if you're a fan. I won't judge; you don't either...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJT7bOqIojI/AAAAAAAAACU/ScGpm9g94M8/s1600-h/creepy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230081512493851186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJT7bOqIojI/AAAAAAAAACU/ScGpm9g94M8/s200/creepy.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/3484887625291448678-5458025409775860956?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5458025409775860956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=5458025409775860956' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/5458025409775860956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/5458025409775860956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/kickin-it-old-school-kinda.html' title='Kickin&apos; it old school... kinda...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJT1qbt5EzI/AAAAAAAAACE/CsEPrOkdLyo/s72-c/fisher+price+tape+player.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-7455831122557650280</id><published>2008-08-02T15:15:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T15:35:06.348-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Duh. Duh. Double Duh.</title><content type='html'>So, the sitemeter thing freaked me out. While searching for the answer, I learned that this whole "blogging" thing is a lot easier that it seems. Yeah, if you 'upgrade your template' which I have not done. I've been sitting here trying to "get" html. Regardless, I've upgraded now and things are MUCH easier - ha! I've just got to remember how things were now... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching the guys play a SpongeBob Life game last night. It was pretty much their first run on their own. I decided to stay out of it and see how it went. Old Soul decided to be the bank much to the dismay of Born Cool. So, they're playing... Mystery Man is paying attention to everything except the game - playing with whatever was on the carpet that should have already been vacuumed up, looking down his pants (making sure everything was still there, I guess) and everything else little boys do. Old Soul was watching every move Born Cool made because he is, by nature, a little sneaky. He was right on the verge of accusing B.C. of cheating until B.C. turned and looked at him and said, "I'm NOT cheating. I'm playing with my brothers, NOT my parents". Oh yeah, I'll have to watch for that next time I'm in the game. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess boys learn innately to look down their pants and squeeze themselves at an early age. I remember when Old Soul was, I don't know, 3 or so. He'd kill me for saying all this as he is a teenager now. He was standing there peeing and, in a panic, called for me. I rushed in and he had this look of pure scared confusion. So, I'm like "what's wrong baby?!" Well, he lifted up his "winky" and points to the "boys" and goes, "What are THESE?" I don't know. I guess it was the first time he'd ever really noticed them? I tried real hard not to laugh, but I probably didn't succeed. I used to be embarrassed at how boys are constantly feeling themselves up when they're small. I got over it pretty quick. I guess those of you with boys can relate. Always with the "Do you have to pee?"... "No..." "Then, why are you holding yourself like you do?" "I don't know..." Yeah, they're funny....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this with the phone the other day. Isn't she pretty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJTEh1XEQjI/AAAAAAAAAB8/SNBhHI9gbUs/s1600-h/0729081317%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJTEh1XEQjI/AAAAAAAAAB8/SNBhHI9gbUs/s320/0729081317%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230021152822542898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-7455831122557650280?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7455831122557650280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=7455831122557650280' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/7455831122557650280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/7455831122557650280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/duh-duh-double-duh.html' title='Duh. Duh. Double Duh.'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJTEh1XEQjI/AAAAAAAAAB8/SNBhHI9gbUs/s72-c/0729081317%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-5712931437492775858</id><published>2008-07-31T21:18:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T22:18:11.952-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Got a new crack in my heart...</title><content type='html'>I believe there are days that leave small cracks in your heart... Today was one of those days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJJyk3dV9iI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2zdLZWYpS_w/s1600-h/0731080800%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229368095018448418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJJyk3dV9iI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2zdLZWYpS_w/s320/0731080800%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In Loving Memory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bucky "Rooni" Atteberry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;August 1993 - July 31, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a sad day in our house. Bucky was 15 years old and Rain and I have known the inevitable was on it's way. Today happened to be that day. I take comfort in the fact that it no longer hurts him to lay down or get up. It's not awkward for him to walk in the grass and he's got no problems going up just one step anymore. He can see where he's going up there and hear everybody just fine. He'll never be too hot or too cold. Bucky was a very patient and tolerant dog. I don't think I'll come across another dog that has his temperment. He saw us through four moves, three kids, three other dogs and six cats - not including Zowie. Zowie decided to be Bucky's "mother" when he was a puppy and up until his very last days, he would lick his paws and try to clean his face like a cat! He will be greatly missed. Heaven was granted one precious soul today. Your memories will never fade. We love you Bucky!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Mystery Man is too young really to fully understand. The Old Soul did better than I thought he would today. I think he was trying to be strong because his mother was such an emotional wreck. Born Cool was by my side for most of the day with a constant tear in his eye. Rain and I have been pretty unkept for most of the day. Well, he's at my parent's house under one of the only dogwood trees that still blooms in the woods. That will be a good place as that tree is always so beautiful in the spring. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sorry to be a downer. I just had to get it out... Tomorrow will be a new day. Until then... Here's hoping some of you guys have posted something funny for me to find today!&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/3484887625291448678-5712931437492775858?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5712931437492775858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=5712931437492775858' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/5712931437492775858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/5712931437492775858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/got-new-crack-in-my-heart.html' title='Got a new crack in my heart...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJJyk3dV9iI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2zdLZWYpS_w/s72-c/0731080800%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-2817716835634788707</id><published>2008-07-30T08:45:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T09:39:29.209-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell me I'm NOT going to have problems...</title><content type='html'>First off, some very exciting news... After an entire summer of constant persuasion, Mystery Man is jumping off the pool and swimming to me!! He's soooo proud... And so am I! We've been working all summer long - in the kick ass Y pool no doubt, and it's finally paid off. Whew... Right here at the end. Right before they've got to go back to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School starts next week. I'm pretty excited about it. The kids aren't so much, but that's okay. Mystery Man starts kindergarden. He thinks it's cool that he'll be going to the same school as Born Cool who starts the 3rd grade. The Old Soul starts 8th which I still don't believe. I don't believe I'm old enough to have an 8th grader - or a 13 year old for that matter. The only one I'm a little concerned about is Born Cool. He is exactly that. Cool. At 8 years old. I don't understand nor can I relate. I don't know if I was ever "cool", but he's just that. It's a little scary to me. He's one of the funniest kids I know; and if you meet him, you love him. He's always saying off the wall stuff like last night at dinner - 'Oh yeah, this garlic stuff is good. Everybody that has electricity probably eats garlic stuff'. What? He met this kid at the pool and a few minutes later I heard the kid tell his mom, 'This kid is talking to me like he's known me all his life'. The little girls stare and giggle at him and he just smirks and rolls his eyes. He thinks bad words are hilarious and they induce a constant giggle from him. Here's something I found in his agenda &lt;em&gt;last &lt;/em&gt;year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJB7-EHzO_I/AAAAAAAAABs/p7b2diF9y0o/s1600-h/0913071539%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228815473565711346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJB7-EHzO_I/AAAAAAAAABs/p7b2diF9y0o/s320/0913071539%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's scary enough to me that he spelt it right, but used it right, in a real smart ass way... When I found that, it was all I could do to keep from busting out. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yep, I should have named him "Pay Back"... Tell me he's the one that's not going to give me the most grief! Third grade should be very interesting...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-2817716835634788707?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2817716835634788707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=2817716835634788707' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/2817716835634788707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/2817716835634788707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/tell-me-im-not-going-to-have-problems.html' title='Tell me I&apos;m NOT going to have problems...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SJB7-EHzO_I/AAAAAAAAABs/p7b2diF9y0o/s72-c/0913071539%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-6735841641429486950</id><published>2008-07-29T07:53:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T11:39:51.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch!! This hurts...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a full day. And I'm tired. I woke up, cut the back yard, took the Old Soul to the Y to work out and then met up with Rain and the other two to go swimming. First off I gotta say, if you've got a Y near you, I bet they've got a kick ass pool. Mine does. It's got that 'graduated entry' like you're at the beach (just no sand - ha), there's two water slides, a really tall water mushroom and a misty water thing and this other thing that squirts water up and in all different directions. I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Rain has been hounding the Old Soul to "start working out". He's 13, okay, but whatever. The Old Soul has been getting up every morning and running to the lake in our neighborhood and back. Then, Rain instructed him to do 100 push-ups and sit-ups every day. I'm sorry but I think that's crap. I think it would be different if Rain did something besides just think about doing a sit-up. I also don't believe in 'barking orders'. I'm more of a 'lead-by-example' kinda parent. Enough ranting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took him to the Y to work out. I quit working out when my heart started flipping out and have been kinda scared to go back. Any rate, he and I went and had a really good workout. He felt good and I felt good. It was good to go back and realize that it'll just be a-ok for me to work out again. I guess, once again, the Old Soul has shown his mother something. And, today, I'm feeling that lesson. Ouch... Yes, it does hurt. In a good sort of way though... I'm kinda excited about out little workout embarkment we're going on together. All I have to say is.... people, get your tickets early... the gun show is on it's way - ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm always so proud of my yard when I'm done with it. It's just one of those things you do; and then you're done, and you can go, damn, I did a fine job. Always like seeing something to the end. Cutting the yard is instant gratification for me. Here's a picture of it... I'm like a proud mamma...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SI9FCVOTbcI/AAAAAAAAABc/4eN9eVE9ed4/s1600-h/yard.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228473598759628226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SI9FCVOTbcI/AAAAAAAAABc/4eN9eVE9ed4/s320/yard.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, here's something I found while working in the back yard. Everyone has stupid fears. Mine is moths. You may think they're okay or they're pretty or that they're even interersting. I happen to think they are the spawns of Satan. They fly around all confused and manic. I hate them. And, I'm passionate about this hate. You may think this guy is cool. It took everything I had not to kill it. It is, after all, a living being. As a 'Creature of Light' (seen Ace Ventura?), I do have a hard time killing anything... Let me know what you think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SI9F6dWVApI/AAAAAAAAABk/fphCu8ZkisI/s1600-h/gross+moth.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228474563013444242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SI9F6dWVApI/AAAAAAAAABk/fphCu8ZkisI/s320/gross+moth.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/3484887625291448678-6735841641429486950?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6735841641429486950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=6735841641429486950' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/6735841641429486950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/6735841641429486950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/ouch-this-hurts.html' title='Ouch!! This hurts...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SI9FCVOTbcI/AAAAAAAAABc/4eN9eVE9ed4/s72-c/yard.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-4945562565732180277</id><published>2008-07-28T08:34:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T09:19:52.657-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whatcha gonna do?</title><content type='html'>So, my Wally-World trip ended up surprisingly well. Not too crowded, not too busy... as perfect as it can be I guess. I even walked out and found my car in probably less than 3 minutes. I don't know if anyone else struggles with that, but I can never find my car when I leave a store... be it Wally-World, Kroger, Target, etc. My little Nissan is a little older and she doesn't have any fancy beeping things or automatic trunk openers. So, I just have to hunt and hunt and hunt. In the land of really big cars and trucks, she just likes to hide. It's a little scary. It makes me think that I'm going to have to leave breadcrumbs when I go to the store by the time I'm 70...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I saw a girl there yesterday wearing a shirt advertising a court reporting school. Many moons ago, I was in a court reporting school. And it was fun. And I was really good. And I was pretty sure I was going to make piles of money. Alas, I has just had Old Soul and decided going to school with a kid was really hard (little did I know...) and I took a semester off. Needless to say, I ended up getting jury duty. And I ended up on a malpractice suit for 7 days. Actually, I was quite surprised that I got selected. I've got this pacemaker and am pretty dependant on doctors and with that involving a doctor and all... Well, you get it. Anyway, all I have to say is hat's off to all you court reporters. I watched her on and off for 7 days. She didn't move. She didn't smile. She didn't frown. She didn't sneeze. She didn't cough. She didn't look up or down or to the side or anywhere except her little machine. You go girl. I knew immediately I was not cut out for that. I'm way too fidgety, way too curious, and way too social. After the trial, I couldn't get to the attorneys and judge fast enough for some interesting conversation. Turns out, the judge went to high school with my mom. We ended up getting an invite to his birthday party that year in a rented out building in the city and it was "uber" fancy and important social scene. How about that! So, that left me with, 'well, whatcha gonna do now?' So, I laid low. I worked on and off, but have been fortunate to stay home for a while every time the pregnancy stick ended up positive. Back up to the pacemaker. Yeah, I got that little jewel January 1993. Always thought that was interesting. I also had a cardiac ablation this past March which was super cool. My doc used magnetically guided cath wires to navigate around in my heart with a joystick. You may not think that's very cool; but as far as I'm concerned, I'm well on my way to becoming the bionic woman. So, I decided to go to nursing school. Yeah, I could eventually get into cardiology. Fast forward and finish the first semester. Consequently, Rain got a job "back home" (near MY home - he had taken me away kicking and screaming) and I had to pull out of the program. Damn... Things happen for a reason I've always believed. So, move, get settled and start looking around at nursing schools. Hey, I stumbled across a cardiovascular tech program at a college that has a campus about 8 minutes from my house. Bam. Decision made. Applied, got accepted on the spot, moving forward. So, I've been in school this past year and I know that when I get out, to me, I'm going to have the coolest job I could ever have. It'll put me in a cath lab, where I wanted to begin with. And, yeah, I know I won't make as much money as a nurse does. I already know that. Yeah, I could have gone through nursing school and gotten in a cath lab eventually. But, I won't have to deal with everything else either. I'll get to be on the interventional side of it which is where I want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my question is this. Do you have the coolest job EVER? Are you so crazy psyched to get up and go to work in the morning? Be it whatever... teacher, ditch digger, biologist, pharmacist, appraiser, receptionist, whatever. I had a conversation with a friend a while back and he said you should be passionate about what you do. I totally believe it. Do you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and by the way, just LOOK at this picture. I took it with my phone. It doesn't do her justice. Do you see what I'm talking about? Look how perfect and simple and beautiful she is. She's in my garden. Isn't she cool?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SI3Sjn62YGI/AAAAAAAAABU/0bmOPtCTqFg/s1600-h/0727081309a%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228066251900084322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SI3Sjn62YGI/AAAAAAAAABU/0bmOPtCTqFg/s200/0727081309a%5B1%5D.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/3484887625291448678-4945562565732180277?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4945562565732180277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=4945562565732180277' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4945562565732180277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4945562565732180277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/whatcha-gonna-do.html' title='Whatcha gonna do?'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SI3Sjn62YGI/AAAAAAAAABU/0bmOPtCTqFg/s72-c/0727081309a%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-2220379262074307358</id><published>2008-07-27T08:53:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T15:21:22.442-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Addicted much?</title><content type='html'>I could see where this could get quite addicting. Just putting thoughts out there for whoever to look at... It's kinda voyeuristic, don't you think? I kinda like it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today will be one of just taking care of business... grocery shopping, laundry, etc... The weekly visit to Wally-World. I don't know anyone that likes going, but they just pull you in. Don't they? What's their motto? 'Live Better. Spend Less'? They should add 'Dodge stockers who don't feel the need to give you any room, try not to run into any other shoppers' carts because they're not paying attention because they're on the cell phone, remember to smile politely at the cashier regardless of how they're feeling today...' Whatever, ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yesterday I discovered the wonderful world of a webcam. I have a friend, CWS, in another town and we took a stab at hooking up. We got the cameras working, but not audio yet. I'm positive we'll get it worked out today. If you've never used one of these cameras, you've probably been blase about it, just like I've been. Well, I hooked this thing up and got everything rolling. Sitting there on my bed, I watched our little screens pop up; and &lt;strong&gt;BAM!! &lt;/strong&gt;There sitting in front of me was someone that lives miles and miles away. It was kind of like discovering something when you were a kid for the first time. I felt like I was 8 or something - like I have this new little secret that's all my own. I can plug my webcam up and see CWS whenever they acquiesce. I can open up my own little secret world. Very cool... I called all my out of town family that night and told them to go buy a webcam. That way, I won't get bugged about going to another state all the time, maybe... In the meantime, I'm going to walk around with my little fist tightly clenched holding my new little toy with my smug little smile. I'm not sharin'... ha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-2220379262074307358?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2220379262074307358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=2220379262074307358' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/2220379262074307358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/2220379262074307358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/addicted-much.html' title='Addicted much?'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3484887625291448678.post-4879561876821922778</id><published>2008-07-26T13:27:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T14:46:20.636-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Here goes...</title><content type='html'>Well, a recent trip down memory lane which included a run-in with a darling friend of a mere 29 years has prompted this attempt at 'blogging'... First off, how many people can say they've ran into a friend of 29 years?? How many people start kindergarden together? Needless to say, my conception of 'being old' started changing as soon as I walked out of high school. And it is high school that prompted this trip down memory lane... A couple of weeks ago, I went back to my old high school for a 'Farewell Tour'. The building is absolutely beautiful and has been standing proud for 90-something years. Egregiously, it's being demolished. I don't like to talk about it. As I've said before (not that you would know at this point), it feels like something's reaching and squeezing my heart when I think about the whole matter. Regardless, I walked out with a set of lockers. MY set of lockers. Locker #3 still has my name written in it - you know how you make letters with little dots on the ends of each letter? Yep, that's mine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flower Girl... A little cliche', don't you think? But, have you really looked hard at a flower or really thought about a flower? Have you ever wished you were a beautiful little flower there, sitting in the garden soaking up the dew at night only to bask in the sun all day and give some little bug some shade? I revel in their simplicity. Life is so comlicated. How cool would it be to just be simple, just like that little flower. I have a flower necklace. Here it is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItzAhUATeI/AAAAAAAAAAg/j4kJCdxTs9c/s1600-h/0726081342%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227398245273062882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 311px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" height="166" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItzAhUATeI/AAAAAAAAAAg/j4kJCdxTs9c/s320/0726081342%5B1%5D.jpg" width="165" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; take it off. It's simple and each petal has a value on it that I hold near and dear. And, I collect other flowers to wear. Like the one I bought at the French Market on a recent and quite suprising trip to New Orleans. And, yes, that flower gets to visit the other flower I wear when I put it on my chain. There are lot of other flowers that I wear. But, there's my mainstay always there to remind me what I value most in life. So, yeah, Flower Girl is a little cliche' on the surface, but, really is it? I think it all boils down on how you view yourself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I'm done with that tangent... Don't expect me to get that deep on a regular basis. Here goes, I guess. We'll see how this goes... Could be very interesting...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3484887625291448678-4879561876821922778?l=gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4879561876821922778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3484887625291448678&amp;postID=4879561876821922778' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4879561876821922778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3484887625291448678/posts/default/4879561876821922778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gardenoftheflowergirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/here-goes.html' title='Here goes...'/><author><name>FlowerGirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17153588501300991050</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItg8I-1UbI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aY4HGO0cOqw/S220/face+shot.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_qcYGPTldOcU/SItzAhUATeI/AAAAAAAAAAg/j4kJCdxTs9c/s72-c/0726081342%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
