<?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-36523695</id><updated>2012-02-16T06:01:32.548-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Got Weird</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>541</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-295352856033282861</id><published>2011-10-20T17:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T17:26:59.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Couch That Could</title><content type='html'>Between Patrick and I we owned 6 couches.  Of course we were going to keep my 3 couches and get rid of Patrick’s.  I’m no dummy.  I’m the original owner of all my couches.  I know their history.  Patrick’s couches were like a giant science project and I wanted nothing to do with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrick agreed to get rid of one before we got married, but he really “liked” the other two.  He knew they were ugly but did not care.  They were “comfortable.”  Now let me tell you a little something about these couches.  Sure they matched and were in fairly decent shape, but they were the ugliest print ever and he bought them off of craig’s list years ago so who knows what’s living in them.  I decided to take one for the team and agreed to keep them as long as I could reupholster them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there we are, driving down the freeway at top speeds, moving the couches into our new house when Patrick turns into a sailor and words start flying.  I’m completely puzzled as he’s pulling over to the right hand lane.  Apparently one of the couch cushions had flown out of the truck and went bouncing off cars down the freeway.  Patrick was ticked, but I saw it as an answer to prayer.  Now I was only stuck with one ugly couch because it was a seat cushion we lost.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so happy.  Nature did not even want these couches in my house and it was all going to be fine.  Later that day we looped back down the freeway and what do you know, that little cushion had made it to the bushes.  The cover was torn to shreds, but there it was.  I got a pretty good laugh watching Patrick run down the side of the freeway to fetch the dang thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sBkw22_T_Do/TqC7UnMBisI/AAAAAAAACes/oYuqcRsieYA/s1600/photo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sBkw22_T_Do/TqC7UnMBisI/AAAAAAAACes/oYuqcRsieYA/s400/photo.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665734294023277250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to 3 months later and you have one couch complete with one more to go. (I should mention the color in this images sucks.  I took it on my phone, but you get the idea) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ML4rQ4vlQgI/TqC7dJLE6CI/AAAAAAAACfE/89qEqspvUug/s1600/before.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ML4rQ4vlQgI/TqC7dJLE6CI/AAAAAAAACfE/89qEqspvUug/s400/before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665734440585062434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RKhm2brssDg/TqC7c9nCHHI/AAAAAAAACe4/bH-TyE2UcTQ/s1600/after.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RKhm2brssDg/TqC7c9nCHHI/AAAAAAAACe4/bH-TyE2UcTQ/s400/after.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665734437481094258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-295352856033282861?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/295352856033282861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=295352856033282861&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/295352856033282861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/295352856033282861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/10/little-couch-that-could.html' title='The Little Couch That Could'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sBkw22_T_Do/TqC7UnMBisI/AAAAAAAACes/oYuqcRsieYA/s72-c/photo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-6003476794157566030</id><published>2011-07-19T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T22:25:49.238-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It HAD to go</title><content type='html'>We bought the house and before I moved in I refinished the hard wood floors and Patrick remodeled the bathroom.  More on that later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night I was putting things away in the basement and I had had it.  The carpet downstairs HAD to go.  The picture does not do it justice.  It was red/orange/brown/yellow.  I honestly don't know what color the original carpet was.  It was no longer stretched, it was damp in places and I won't even go into the smell.  I wanted to be able to watch TV without feeling like I might catch a rash.  I wanted to walk downstairs without shoes on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FM65sAnLuN0/TiZl39Xt4GI/AAAAAAAACcE/uhQ6hagdbLQ/s1600/CarpetBefore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 341px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FM65sAnLuN0/TiZl39Xt4GI/AAAAAAAACcE/uhQ6hagdbLQ/s400/CarpetBefore.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631300396114632802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning I talked with Patrick and we decided the carpet was a must do ASAP project.  Sunday night we made an appointment for the carpet people to meet us at the house Monday evening.  Oh stop judging me.  No one had to work.  We made the appointment online so the Sabbath was still Holly in this house.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday the carpet people came and today WE GOT NEW CARPET.  It still smells, but it's new carpet smell and that WILL go away.  I can safely walk barefoot and in fact just did!  No more mystery science project growing in the basement.  Now if there are any stains I'll be able to tell you exactly what they are from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- oh that over there, I tipped over my Diet Coke as I was reaching for more yarn to crochet with.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;- that one, Patrick left food out and Max got to it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- and yes, you made that one &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qFsWq1-uvrQ/TiZl39DhvCI/AAAAAAAACcM/REy8a4XCuWQ/s1600/CarpetAfter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qFsWq1-uvrQ/TiZl39DhvCI/AAAAAAAACcM/REy8a4XCuWQ/s400/CarpetAfter.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631300396029951010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to deal with the worlds ugliest couches that came with Patrick. Again I have so much to catch you up on.  To give you a sneak preview, just know those couches involve a loose cushion and a freeway search and rescue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-6003476794157566030?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/6003476794157566030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=6003476794157566030&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6003476794157566030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6003476794157566030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/07/it-had-to-go.html' title='It HAD to go'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FM65sAnLuN0/TiZl39Xt4GI/AAAAAAAACcE/uhQ6hagdbLQ/s72-c/CarpetBefore.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-124458488004136177</id><published>2011-07-19T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T22:03:48.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Sweet Home</title><content type='html'>So we bought a house and let me tell you, it was an adventure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started looking for the right place and quickly got sick of looking at places. There were also quite a few stipulations behind all of this. We had to close before we were married since it would change our loan. This meant short sells were most likely off the table, but 90% of the houses in our price range were short sells. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter house #1&lt;br /&gt;It was great and we put an offer in right away. We were going back and forth signing papers when the owner of the house filed for bankruptcy. We rescinded our offer and started looking again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter house #2&lt;br /&gt;It was huge, needed a lot of work, and was way out of our price range. We put in a ridiculously low offer after a few back and forths we all agreed. Inspections happened without any major surprises and we were moving forward. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were 2 weeks away from closing and things started to get tricky.&lt;br /&gt;1. I was offered a new job but needed to verify my employment under my old job or it would screw up the loan&lt;br /&gt;2. The seller was really old so we were working with her kids, but the sellers health quickly declined and they were worries she would not live until closing&lt;br /&gt;3. There was a leak in the bathroom shower downstairs and the bank would not approve our loan until it was fixed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 - I "told" my team I was leaving work but we waited to tell HR for a few days. Employment verified. &lt;br /&gt;2 - We were able to close early and just in the nick of time. We closed on a Friday and the owner passed on that Sunday&lt;br /&gt;3 - We arranged a lat minute plumber to come and cap the shower. We had plans to demo the entire bathroom so why make the owners spend time and money on the shower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for the next 30 years we have a mortgage and a never ending project but I could not be more happy with our purchase. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p0eUzIzAbbc/TiZhdMbnJdI/AAAAAAAACb8/FP71f_fc68o/s1600/House.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 221px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p0eUzIzAbbc/TiZhdMbnJdI/AAAAAAAACb8/FP71f_fc68o/s400/House.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631295538254521810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This leads us next to the new job and house projects...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-124458488004136177?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/124458488004136177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=124458488004136177&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/124458488004136177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/124458488004136177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/07/home-sweet-home.html' title='Home Sweet Home'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p0eUzIzAbbc/TiZhdMbnJdI/AAAAAAAACb8/FP71f_fc68o/s72-c/House.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-8589999246065655494</id><published>2011-07-08T22:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T22:24:04.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Auto Correct</title><content type='html'>Sis. M just left me the funniest comment on my previous post that reminded me a great and hilarious text exchange I had with Patrick.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P and I were going to meet up at some Italian restaurant he wanted to try. I was leaving work and he was in the car driving there and "texted" me the name of the restaurant only auto correct changed it to "sexting."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I was so confused.  Why would he text me the word sexting?  I then realized what had happened and laughed so hard I cried.  I quickly replied and told him sexting is not texting the word sexting, but good try and that I was just looking for a dinner date and nothing more.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still makes me laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-8589999246065655494?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/8589999246065655494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=8589999246065655494&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8589999246065655494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8589999246065655494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/07/auto-correct.html' title='Auto Correct'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-3962264560144366285</id><published>2011-07-08T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T21:17:21.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>So much has happened and I really want to capture it all here if nothing else then for my own memories. But for now I'm beyond tired so all you get is a list of things to come. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-bought a house&lt;br /&gt;-got a new job&lt;br /&gt;-get a new roommate in 28 days (so people call him a husband)&lt;br /&gt;-got my dress&lt;br /&gt;-took a few trips&lt;br /&gt;-gone through some sad family things&lt;br /&gt;-crafted&lt;br /&gt;-stressed myself into health problems&lt;br /&gt;-refinished 1000 sq ft of floors&lt;br /&gt;-showered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been crazy but I've really learned to trust The Lord, be grateful for my family and friends and know that somehow it always works out. I'm mean afterall, I am typing this while in a bathtub I own in a newly remoldeled bathroom that was made with love so it can't be all that bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-3962264560144366285?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/3962264560144366285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=3962264560144366285&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3962264560144366285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3962264560144366285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/07/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-337760849173860300</id><published>2011-05-03T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T15:57:47.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dentist Update</title><content type='html'>Remember how I &lt;a href="http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-keeping-your-shirt-on.html"&gt;HATE the dentist&lt;/a&gt;, but have been going every 6 months like a big girl and hating every minute of it.  Today was rough.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the name of marital vanity I decided that I not only wanted my teeth cleaned, but to also have the jagged ends of my teeth smoothed and to attempt to buff out the white calcium deposit on my front tooth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started sweating the minute I sat down in the chair, turned my headphones up as loud as possible, closed my eyes and opened my mouth.  While it did not hurt and the music covered up the sound, I was NOT prepared for the SMELL.  Yes, the smell of tiny tiny instruments spinning away, slowly shaving off the bottom of my teeth.  It was a mix of burnt hair and burnt rubber....COMING FROM MY MOUTH.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it though and can't stop feeling how smooth my teeth are now.  Glad I did it, but next time I'm bringing a nose plug.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-337760849173860300?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/337760849173860300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=337760849173860300&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/337760849173860300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/337760849173860300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/05/dentist-update.html' title='Dentist Update'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-9200785075212610852</id><published>2011-04-18T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T20:38:37.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>COTD</title><content type='html'>Steph: Are those sculls on your running shoelaces? &lt;br /&gt;Me: Sure are!&lt;br /&gt;Steph: Ahh...when did you get those?&lt;br /&gt;Me: When I bought the pirate pocket watch from Fred Meyer, duh.&lt;br /&gt;Cara (from the back room): True story.  I was with her when she bought them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never a dull moment at our house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-9200785075212610852?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/9200785075212610852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=9200785075212610852&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/9200785075212610852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/9200785075212610852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/04/cotd.html' title='COTD'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-2228002579621161818</id><published>2011-04-12T16:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T16:46:00.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New York</title><content type='html'>Back in December I took a business trip to New York and decided to bring this dreamboat along with me.  It was a great trip.  We went to a basketball game at Madison Square Garden, saw a Broadway play, had dinner with some music cruise buddies, walked around Central Park and spent time with the Clays in Brooklyn.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44IU6GZyL10/TaPnTh0X3qI/AAAAAAAACZg/7fUeBJY6dYo/s1600/ny3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44IU6GZyL10/TaPnTh0X3qI/AAAAAAAACZg/7fUeBJY6dYo/s400/ny3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594569484805856930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that it's FREEZING COLD in NY in December, but beautiful and still FULL of people.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0mUKuJpbUm4/TaPnTRR_W-I/AAAAAAAACZY/rXdWwH4fv98/s1600/ny2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0mUKuJpbUm4/TaPnTRR_W-I/AAAAAAAACZY/rXdWwH4fv98/s400/ny2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594569480366676962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrick was a trooper and went to the largest fabric store ever and even made a special trip to SOHO with me to visit the store of a blog I follow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zfXMGv95r7A/TaPnS-k5DdI/AAAAAAAACZQ/LOK-3N2HU8k/s1600/ny1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zfXMGv95r7A/TaPnS-k5DdI/AAAAAAAACZQ/LOK-3N2HU8k/s400/ny1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594569475345681874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there are LOTS of crazy things and people to see in New York, but one of my favorite things was riding the subway.  You never know what adventure awaits you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few highlights from the trip would be when I passed James Franco on the street and as we made eye contact I realized who he was and my face must have shown it.  He smiled and winked.  I think it's love.  Or then there was the homeless lady who got off the subway with us and had poop dripping down her leg and into her boot.  Both events were memorable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-2228002579621161818?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/2228002579621161818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=2228002579621161818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2228002579621161818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2228002579621161818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/04/new-york.html' title='New York'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-44IU6GZyL10/TaPnTh0X3qI/AAAAAAAACZg/7fUeBJY6dYo/s72-c/ny3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5662498790289775458</id><published>2011-04-11T22:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T22:04:13.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oqOLOKkkjmk/TaPdPEarsVI/AAAAAAAACZI/iKato1OUZBQ/s1600/ring.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oqOLOKkkjmk/TaPdPEarsVI/AAAAAAAACZI/iKato1OUZBQ/s400/ring.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594558413077721426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August 6th.  I can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5662498790289775458?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5662498790289775458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5662498790289775458&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5662498790289775458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5662498790289775458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/04/yes.html' title='Yes'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oqOLOKkkjmk/TaPdPEarsVI/AAAAAAAACZI/iKato1OUZBQ/s72-c/ring.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-6727441543118709621</id><published>2011-02-03T23:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T23:45:48.608-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Got What I Wanted</title><content type='html'>Remember how I don't blog any more because I'm obsessed with this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TUupiIlK6BI/AAAAAAAACYs/w7lJTTV27es/s1600/Crafting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 165px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TUupiIlK6BI/AAAAAAAACYs/w7lJTTV27es/s200/Crafting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569731768057784338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Crafting)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TUupogSlARI/AAAAAAAACY0/mCyTAxuROOk/s1600/patrick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TUupogSlARI/AAAAAAAACY0/mCyTAxuROOk/s200/patrick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569731877501468946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Dreamboat)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've really become obsessed with hand embroidery.  Specifically crewel embroidery.  This amazing woman I know (that's you Sis. M) has this amazing flower embroidery piece hanging in her kitchen and I dream about this thing.  Ever since I saw it, I became obsessed.  Her mother in law made it for her back in the day.  I've take pictures of it and tried to make my own pattern, but it's just too complicated and I want it to be perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As part of my obsession, every week (or day) I search the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; for it.  The hard part was I did not even know if there ever was a patter for it, what it was called, the brand, etc.  So I search and search and search the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; for hours.  Well, last week a miracle happened.  Just when everything in my life was about as crappy as it could be, I FOUND IT ON EBAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TUur0YJp2bI/AAAAAAAACY8/Bpm3dgdJFrw/s1600/flower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TUur0YJp2bI/AAAAAAAACY8/Bpm3dgdJFrw/s400/flower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569734280498239922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quickly bid way too much on it and waited.  There were a bunch of grandmas I had to out bid in those last few hours of auction, but I WON.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should be arriving at my house tomorrow and since it is so rare and exactly what I'm looking for, I just might have to work from home to make sure the neighbors don't steel it from my mailbox.  This is precious cargo people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry dreamboat, but I have a feeling craft time might take over a bit of our time next week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-6727441543118709621?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/6727441543118709621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=6727441543118709621&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6727441543118709621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6727441543118709621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/02/remember-how-i-dont-blog-any-more.html' title='Got What I Wanted'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TUupiIlK6BI/AAAAAAAACYs/w7lJTTV27es/s72-c/Crafting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-3302572367746486126</id><published>2011-01-11T22:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T22:29:02.891-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Question Ever</title><content type='html'>Today I was legitimately asked the following question by a friend/former client:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is your bra size 36DD?  We need someone to test out a few new sports bras at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly my answer was no, but thanks for thinking of me.  That has to be the best and most random question ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-3302572367746486126?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/3302572367746486126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=3302572367746486126&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3302572367746486126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3302572367746486126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/01/best-question-ever.html' title='Best Question Ever'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1856378381937284871</id><published>2011-01-01T21:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T21:02:03.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>C.O.T.D.</title><content type='html'>"I hate it when I forget to dry my friendship bracelet." - PB&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1856378381937284871?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1856378381937284871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1856378381937284871&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1856378381937284871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1856378381937284871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2011/01/cotd.html' title='C.O.T.D.'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-582483327100597687</id><published>2010-12-27T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T23:05:48.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tip</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Dear fellow gym goers.  You are at the GYM.  Stop taking the elevator because we all watch and judge you and it's not helping your purpose in being there.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You're welcome. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-582483327100597687?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/582483327100597687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=582483327100597687&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/582483327100597687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/582483327100597687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/12/tip.html' title='Tip'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1032402646759304383</id><published>2010-11-30T23:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T23:39:18.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TG 2010</title><content type='html'>I give you Lyman Thanksgiving in Spokane.  It lasted about 30 hours and went a little something as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5UjXriYI/AAAAAAAACX8/Nc2gsu7xpT8/s1600/JLL_2297.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5UjXriYI/AAAAAAAACX8/Nc2gsu7xpT8/s400/JLL_2297.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545612647663896962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mom, "If you make the mashed potatoes ahead of time, you can warm them in the crock pot the day of.  It has changed my life."&lt;br /&gt;Dad's thought, "I wonder what golf game is on right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5UTirUZI/AAAAAAAACX0/D1uymUZEv4s/s1600/JLL_2207.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5UTirUZI/AAAAAAAACX0/D1uymUZEv4s/s400/JLL_2207.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545612643415052690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A few things I love about this photo. 1. The multiple diet coke cans 2. How skinny my arm looks (good angle brother) 3. That I'm looking at A HUNTING MAGAZINE.  We don't hunt in my family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5UGoIjOI/AAAAAAAACXs/YJj9suATkIU/s1600/JLL_2229.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5UGoIjOI/AAAAAAAACXs/YJj9suATkIU/s400/JLL_2229.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545612639948279010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Patrick, "Are my eyes open in this one?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5MoWxkoI/AAAAAAAACXk/r15i_phMGEQ/s1600/JLL_2278.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5MoWxkoI/AAAAAAAACXk/r15i_phMGEQ/s400/JLL_2278.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545612511563321986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ben, "Oh Sarah Warah"&lt;br /&gt;Sarah, "You people make me crazy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5MlizQvI/AAAAAAAACXc/iHSe_DBo4aY/s1600/JLL_2358.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5MlizQvI/AAAAAAAACXc/iHSe_DBo4aY/s400/JLL_2358.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545612510808457970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Patrick, "This is so cheesy."&lt;br /&gt;Linds, "You're just mad I have not showed yet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5MQB6OhI/AAAAAAAACXU/PmWC7nq7D7E/s1600/JLL_2345.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5MQB6OhI/AAAAAAAACXU/PmWC7nq7D7E/s400/JLL_2345.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545612505033357842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is what we look like before our faces wake up for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5MN3ayoI/AAAAAAAACXM/PMgzbtXSY-g/s1600/JLL_2359.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5MN3ayoI/AAAAAAAACXM/PMgzbtXSY-g/s400/JLL_2359.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545612504452483714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jared, "Look guys, Dad's hat from 1980 still works."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5L2CO2zI/AAAAAAAACXE/skXQ_LKP9DU/s1600/JLL_2292.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5L2CO2zI/AAAAAAAACXE/skXQ_LKP9DU/s400/JLL_2292.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545612498055387954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy Thanksgiving everybody.  And P, thanks for spending it with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1032402646759304383?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1032402646759304383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1032402646759304383&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1032402646759304383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1032402646759304383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/tg-2010.html' title='TG 2010'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TPX5UjXriYI/AAAAAAAACX8/Nc2gsu7xpT8/s72-c/JLL_2297.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5564262737497570249</id><published>2010-11-30T23:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T23:18:51.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>True Story</title><content type='html'>Today I wore a white shirt that is a little tight so naturally I wore my body slimmer under it. (Note: Almost all women own one and if they don't they should. Sometimes a body just needs a little slimming.)  However, this was a new one piece full body slimmer.  One piece here people...all one piece.  Do you see where this is going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All was going well until I needed to pee.  I walked into the bathroom at work and knew I was going to have to suck it up and pee naked. At Work. AWKWARD especially because we all know you can kind of see through those cracks in the door.  I was doing fine, well as fine as a naked pee'r could, when I noticed the woman washing her hands had stopped and turned around because apparently my arms had come above the stall when I was putting my top back on and she thought this was weird.  What, you don't take your top off to pee?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I had to wait her out and then hurry out of the bathroom before someone else caught me.  Needless to say, I held it as long as I could later in the day to minimize my "exposure" at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm special.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5564262737497570249?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5564262737497570249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5564262737497570249&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5564262737497570249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5564262737497570249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/true-story.html' title='True Story'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5717048606976204419</id><published>2010-11-30T22:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T23:09:21.534-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain Dump</title><content type='html'>- I watched every episode of Lost and have still not seen the series finally&lt;br /&gt;- Epic - I HATE THIS WORD. It is overused and lame! &lt;br /&gt;- I think less of people who put their dogs in clothes.  &lt;br /&gt;- I've cried more in these past 6 months then I have in the past 6 years&lt;br /&gt;- I judge people that smoke&lt;br /&gt;- I think everyone would be more happy if they spent less time of Facebook and more time having real life interactions with real life people &lt;br /&gt;- I wonder how many less "status updates" there would be if you could not update about:  1. That is it Monday 2. That it is Friday 3. The Weather&lt;br /&gt;- I've got the worlds greatest friends&lt;br /&gt;- I hate the show Glee.  I thinks is lame, over rated and their over the top, in your face political statements make me want to poke my eyes out.  I usually agree with what they are saying, but it's just to over the top for me. &lt;br /&gt;- Sometimes I can't sleep because I have so many craft ideas running through my head&lt;br /&gt;- I canceled my cable a month ago and am yet to have a moment of regret&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5717048606976204419?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5717048606976204419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5717048606976204419&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5717048606976204419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5717048606976204419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/brain-dump.html' title='Brain Dump'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-3228002298265931745</id><published>2010-11-16T00:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T00:47:39.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks 10,11,12,13,14,15</title><content type='html'>Vacations that are all paid for and happening somewhere warm in February&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nights at home with P watching movies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Costco.  Everything is bigger and better there.  God bless America&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Temple.  It's an amazing place that is so hard to get to, but the kind of place you never want to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday naps.  I'm really good at them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nice old ladies that work at the craft store.  My goal in life is to be just like them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-3228002298265931745?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/3228002298265931745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=3228002298265931745&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3228002298265931745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3228002298265931745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-101112131415.html' title='Thanks 10,11,12,13,14,15'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5009151089712000044</id><published>2010-11-15T23:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T00:17:43.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My JOB</title><content type='html'>Like any job, some parts are more fun then others.  One of the things I do is help with photo shoots.  Most of the work I do happens before and after so during the shoot I see it my responsibility to keep everyone happy.  Mainly my client, but really the entire team. This shoot happened to be a week long in LA so by the end, you REALLY know each other weather you want to or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day one started with location and wardrobe review.  We had a great team and some AMAZING locations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC82qf2CI/AAAAAAAACVk/4eZ0firLZfw/s1600/IMG_0075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC82qf2CI/AAAAAAAACVk/4eZ0firLZfw/s400/IMG_0075.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537953042527148066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC9Ej1m0I/AAAAAAAACVs/4-VFc7P3esU/s1600/IMG_0078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC9Ej1m0I/AAAAAAAACVs/4-VFc7P3esU/s400/IMG_0078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537953046257310530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC9u68kaI/AAAAAAAACV8/KfH-X1oKSnE/s1600/IMG_0083.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC9u68kaI/AAAAAAAACV8/KfH-X1oKSnE/s400/IMG_0083.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537953057628524962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While the 12 hour days were exhausting, we managed to make each day a good one.   A few highlights are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give you a fearless Mascot Peter.  Don't fool with the babysitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrDIpFyWSI/AAAAAAAACWc/s1CjPUFFgWQ/s1600/IMG_0096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrDIpFyWSI/AAAAAAAACWc/s1CjPUFFgWQ/s400/IMG_0096.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537953245041940770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Or what about the beautiful men on set like this guy that looks like a hipster version of Tim Riggins. (If you don't know who Tim is, you just lost friendship point)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrDIM_TfkI/AAAAAAAACWM/poBxVZ_kw_I/s1600/IMG_0087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrDIM_TfkI/AAAAAAAACWM/poBxVZ_kw_I/s400/IMG_0087.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537953237498560066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And then there is the client....working hard.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrDHyxWTtI/AAAAAAAACWE/G3DYJZEHDAc/s1600/IMG_0085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrDHyxWTtI/AAAAAAAACWE/G3DYJZEHDAc/s400/IMG_0085.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537953230460702418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Or these.  Talk about a find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC9W9u7tI/AAAAAAAACV0/4jK_CfmPLgk/s1600/IMG_0079.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC9W9u7tI/AAAAAAAACV0/4jK_CfmPLgk/s400/IMG_0079.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537953051197763282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And lastly I give you California's version of "bump." I think they have been listening to a little too much Fergie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC8jmCJkI/AAAAAAAACVc/TdMuILJs2kg/s1600/IMG_0074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC8jmCJkI/AAAAAAAACVc/TdMuILJs2kg/s400/IMG_0074.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537953037408151106" 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/36523695-5009151089712000044?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5009151089712000044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5009151089712000044&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5009151089712000044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5009151089712000044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-job.html' title='My JOB'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNrC82qf2CI/AAAAAAAACVk/4eZ0firLZfw/s72-c/IMG_0075.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5875656416890345084</id><published>2010-11-15T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T00:02:35.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fair</title><content type='html'>Just a few highlights from the State Fair.  It's always a classy event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo-_DB_RsI/AAAAAAAACUk/WT8SsWvFTQY/s1600/IMG_3406.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo-_DB_RsI/AAAAAAAACUk/WT8SsWvFTQY/s400/IMG_3406.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537807944671774402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo--kgY3dI/AAAAAAAACUc/Wimo_tz0ya8/s1600/IMG_3400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo--kgY3dI/AAAAAAAACUc/Wimo_tz0ya8/s400/IMG_3400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537807936477781458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo_KQXAtlI/AAAAAAAACU0/26qOPXeKabg/s1600/IMG_3413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo_KQXAtlI/AAAAAAAACU0/26qOPXeKabg/s400/IMG_3413.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537808137228170834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo_JwTugzI/AAAAAAAACUs/D5m3DRN77EA/s1600/IMG_3411.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo_JwTugzI/AAAAAAAACUs/D5m3DRN77EA/s400/IMG_3411.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537808128624460594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo-yOLV5wI/AAAAAAAACUU/FxOyL4TO0lk/s1600/IMG_0052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo-yOLV5wI/AAAAAAAACUU/FxOyL4TO0lk/s400/IMG_0052.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537807724325496578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo-uaFXM6I/AAAAAAAACUM/4YHo1KKrMyY/s1600/IMG_0050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo-uaFXM6I/AAAAAAAACUM/4YHo1KKrMyY/s400/IMG_0050.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537807658802164642" 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/36523695-5875656416890345084?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5875656416890345084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5875656416890345084&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5875656416890345084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5875656416890345084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/fair.html' title='Fair'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo-_DB_RsI/AAAAAAAACUk/WT8SsWvFTQY/s72-c/IMG_3406.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-2703526463251369163</id><published>2010-11-15T22:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T23:55:47.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jenny</title><content type='html'>Remember that &lt;a href="http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/em-dogg.html"&gt;one time&lt;/a&gt; I met Jenny because I talk to strangers and she seemed like a nice one.  Well after that encounter we because internet friends, spent time together on Cayamo 2010 and decided she needed to visit Seattle again. What better time then a weekend she could see her sister as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I drove down to Portland and picked up this pretty girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7eED9OzI/AAAAAAAACTE/M5oX-4pEnWc/s1600/DSC03201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7eED9OzI/AAAAAAAACTE/M5oX-4pEnWc/s400/DSC03201.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537804079477898034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her sister, Katie Herzig (who's albums you should purchase) was playing a show in Portland so after a delicious dinner and a little drive through town, we headed over to "hang out with the band." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7oyruUYI/AAAAAAAACT0/SF-WLhl8ow4/s1600/DSC03309.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7oyruUYI/AAAAAAAACT0/SF-WLhl8ow4/s400/DSC03309.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537804263791415682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove back to Seattle after the show and literally laughed and cried together.  We talked about how weird it could have been since we really did not know each other, but we were meant to be friends.  It just felt so natural. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7eED9OzI/AAAAAAAACTE/M5oX-4pEnWc/s1600/DSC03201.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Saturday morning we woke up early and cheered on these three amazing triathletes followed by breakfast with my brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7eJeXbXI/AAAAAAAACS8/GxpbOmo4hPg/s1600/DSC03196.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7eJeXbXI/AAAAAAAACS8/GxpbOmo4hPg/s400/DSC03196.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537804080930844018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can we pause for just a minute to talk about my brother and his love of peanut butter on his waffle.  Now I love it to, but he is so committed that he keeps a can of it in his car and is not ashamed to bring it to breakfast with him. You know, just in case they don't have any. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7eQzfQMI/AAAAAAAACTM/rcGNX3HnKYM/s1600/DSC03203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7eQzfQMI/AAAAAAAACTM/rcGNX3HnKYM/s400/DSC03203.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537804082898485442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Not only is Jared passionate about his PB, but he's also one heck of a paragliding pilot so I strapped Jenny onto him and sent them off to jump off of Tiger Mountain. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7e6v8hlI/AAAAAAAACTU/cZI1rCql2bc/s1600/DSC03239.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7e6v8hlI/AAAAAAAACTU/cZI1rCql2bc/s400/DSC03239.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537804094157915730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7oDFyQ1I/AAAAAAAACTc/C9QFE6hs4I0/s1600/DSC03255.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7oDFyQ1I/AAAAAAAACTc/C9QFE6hs4I0/s400/DSC03255.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537804251015824210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7oS-YrnI/AAAAAAAACTk/j04Jtb4wfi0/s1600/DSC03279.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7oS-YrnI/AAAAAAAACTk/j04Jtb4wfi0/s400/DSC03279.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537804255279754866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a quick flight, but everyone was safe and all smiles.   Then it was off to another KH show.  Not only is Katie a nice person but Clair and Jordan are real nice people too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7pEfhGZI/AAAAAAAACT8/gOAjAn_ojLc/s1600/DSC03320.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7pEfhGZI/AAAAAAAACT8/gOAjAn_ojLc/s400/DSC03320.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537804268572055954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Those Herzig girls...they take such great photos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7os3he-I/AAAAAAAACTs/pzDVRh8iRE8/s1600/DSC03300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7os3he-I/AAAAAAAACTs/pzDVRh8iRE8/s400/DSC03300.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537804262230293474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny, thanks for taking a risk and coming to visit your internet friend.  I'm so glad we are now real life friends.  See you this weekend to do it again....literally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7sqEquKI/AAAAAAAACUE/5TBnBskx-Ls/s1600/DSC03338.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7sqEquKI/AAAAAAAACUE/5TBnBskx-Ls/s400/DSC03338.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537804330199595170" 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/36523695-2703526463251369163?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/2703526463251369163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=2703526463251369163&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2703526463251369163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2703526463251369163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/10/jenny_25.html' title='Jenny'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNo7eED9OzI/AAAAAAAACTE/M5oX-4pEnWc/s72-c/DSC03201.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1577769416621509247</id><published>2010-11-14T22:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T23:59:12.867-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Vacations</title><content type='html'>This summer I've been on a few amazing vacations.  A trip to California with this dreamy distraction was one of them.  We spent lots of time visiting family and even did a little sailing in San Francisco. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNpAUUX1UWI/AAAAAAAACVE/mPCYW2YnMW8/s1600/38915_148634668480108_100000007270420_444868_6950958_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNpAUUX1UWI/AAAAAAAACVE/mPCYW2YnMW8/s400/38915_148634668480108_100000007270420_444868_6950958_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537809409615679842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His family just happens to live real close to my extended family.  Small world eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNpAUEOmTGI/AAAAAAAACU8/uxIaFwvl3-c/s1600/38029_148632025147039_100000007270420_444725_7678544_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNpAUEOmTGI/AAAAAAAACU8/uxIaFwvl3-c/s400/38029_148632025147039_100000007270420_444725_7678544_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537809405281979490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not seen my Grandmas in who knows how many years and this might be one of the last times I get to see them.  It was so fun being able to spend time with them.  Grandma Lyman made me play the piano for her and tried to get P to sing along.  :)  Even though she can hardly see and has parkinsons so her hands shake, she still made sure to reapply her lipstick after dinner.  That Grandma Lyman is one classy lady. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNpAVUPUHLI/AAAAAAAACVU/nsOluvTISL8/s1600/IMG_3235.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNpAVUPUHLI/AAAAAAAACVU/nsOluvTISL8/s400/IMG_3235.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537809426759818418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nana and I spent time talking while we sat on the yellow couch she's had since before I was born.  She might be old, but she's still with it.   She told me how her and Grandpa met and how she dominates at bridge in the assisted living home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNpAUh3rD8I/AAAAAAAACVM/MwB3Bbjcwfs/s1600/IMG_3232.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNpAUh3rD8I/AAAAAAAACVM/MwB3Bbjcwfs/s400/IMG_3232.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537809413238886338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While visiting family was great, I think my favorite part had to be breakfast in SF with this guy over looking the ocean.  It was kind of like something out of a movie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/THNvOYdZS5I/AAAAAAAACKg/v76Fueseiiw/s1600/Patrick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/THNvOYdZS5I/AAAAAAAACKg/v76Fueseiiw/s400/Patrick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508869062078843794" 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/36523695-1577769416621509247?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1577769416621509247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1577769416621509247&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1577769416621509247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1577769416621509247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/summer-vacations.html' title='Summer Vacations'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNpAUUX1UWI/AAAAAAAACVE/mPCYW2YnMW8/s72-c/38915_148634668480108_100000007270420_444868_6950958_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-3084425325752781175</id><published>2010-11-09T21:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T21:52:29.868-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks 7,8,9</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful for my bed, taking a day off work to spend with P, and Diet Coke.  Some days you just need a lot of Diet Coke to make it through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-3084425325752781175?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/3084425325752781175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=3084425325752781175&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3084425325752781175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3084425325752781175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-789.html' title='Thanks 7,8,9'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7580607266832335501</id><published>2010-11-06T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T22:27:37.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks 6</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful for the little hands that woke me up this morning.  While they are crazy and exhausting, they are so loving and happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-7580607266832335501?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7580607266832335501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7580607266832335501&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7580607266832335501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7580607266832335501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-6.html' title='Thanks 6'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-2731496555839644643</id><published>2010-11-05T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T23:25:11.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks 5</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful for sweet little songs from sweet little people before they go to bed and the warm hugs and kisses that follow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-2731496555839644643?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/2731496555839644643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=2731496555839644643&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2731496555839644643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2731496555839644643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-5.html' title='Thanks 5'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-9013971612411617483</id><published>2010-11-04T22:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T23:33:42.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks 4</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful for the sun.  I'm on CA working on a photo shoot with work and it's been 80+ for the past 4 days.  Sitting outside working with size 0 models suddenly becomes more doable when the sun is working it's magic so today I'm thankful for sunny days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-9013971612411617483?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/9013971612411617483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=9013971612411617483&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/9013971612411617483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/9013971612411617483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-4.html' title='Thanks 4'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1593413536628732168</id><published>2010-11-03T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T22:13:35.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks 3</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful for sunny days in November.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1593413536628732168?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1593413536628732168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1593413536628732168&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1593413536628732168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1593413536628732168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-3.html' title='Thanks 3'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-995034841154002963</id><published>2010-11-02T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T21:34:47.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who needs kids</title><content type='html'>Want to make Halloween costumes, but don't have any kids.  Might I suggest making one for your roommate like I did.  Aside from a few minor details, I think it turned out pretty well.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNDmBWLN1jI/AAAAAAAACSo/5q9649j164k/s1600/71766_444467876898_697676898_5799868_5339502_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNDmBWLN1jI/AAAAAAAACSo/5q9649j164k/s400/71766_444467876898_697676898_5799868_5339502_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535176852845221426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-995034841154002963?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/995034841154002963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=995034841154002963&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/995034841154002963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/995034841154002963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/who-needs-kids.html' title='Who needs kids'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TNDmBWLN1jI/AAAAAAAACSo/5q9649j164k/s72-c/71766_444467876898_697676898_5799868_5339502_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-4326312276087341351</id><published>2010-11-02T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T22:09:41.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks 2</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful for running.  I'm thankful my body allows me to run and that I can take time out of everyday to enjoy the fresh air while getting lost in my head as I run.  It's a great addiction and I'm thankful that I'm hooked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-4326312276087341351?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/4326312276087341351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=4326312276087341351&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4326312276087341351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4326312276087341351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-2.html' title='Thanks 2'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-4435641834837294980</id><published>2010-11-01T22:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T22:58:14.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks 1</title><content type='html'>I like that this time of year we take time to stop and think about what we are thankful for.  As such, I give you part 1 of many "thanks" posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I'm thankful for my job.  While it was a 12 hour work day and I'm in a hotel room far away from those I love, I have the chance to explore new parts of the country, learn new things, personally grow, and work with some pretty great people and for that I am thankful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-4435641834837294980?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/4435641834837294980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=4435641834837294980&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4435641834837294980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4435641834837294980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-1.html' title='Thanks 1'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-8671729906189930265</id><published>2010-11-01T01:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T00:05:49.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maui Babe</title><content type='html'>I decided to do something big for myself this year since I was turning 30 and nothing sounded better then 8 days in Maui with some of my favorite people.  It was just aa great as it sounds.  I mean check out the view from our condo.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8hTxa-WI/AAAAAAAACSY/K0Z-fbRmIuo/s1600/IMG_5330.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8hTxa-WI/AAAAAAAACSY/K0Z-fbRmIuo/s400/IMG_5330.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531894260235434338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean look at how happy we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8mhRZLwI/AAAAAAAACSg/WzzNXWgJ_ik/s1600/IMG_3392.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8mhRZLwI/AAAAAAAACSg/WzzNXWgJ_ik/s400/IMG_3392.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531894349758541570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each morning started with Eli's person wake up call from his two favorite ladies.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5R8osqiI/AAAAAAAACPg/P4McqPDWGOk/s1600/33673_434568292746_587737746_5203279_7849767_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5R8osqiI/AAAAAAAACPg/P4McqPDWGOk/s400/33673_434568292746_587737746_5203279_7849767_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531890697791908386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Followed by breakfast in the sun and a family meeting on which beach to visit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8Xo6LvwI/AAAAAAAACSQ/VhYK9ublnxM/s1600/IMG_5333.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8Xo6LvwI/AAAAAAAACSQ/VhYK9ublnxM/s400/IMG_5333.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531894094110637826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our main goal of the trip was to leave with a great tan.  Who knew Eli was a tanning professional.  He made sure we all flipped every 15 minutes and applied lotion twice a day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5SEg8OVI/AAAAAAAACPw/zAHP0Z5wX7s/s1600/59846_434558727746_587737746_5203127_8104108_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5SEg8OVI/AAAAAAAACPw/zAHP0Z5wX7s/s400/59846_434558727746_587737746_5203127_8104108_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531890699906857298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was decided that no day had really started until I took my top off.  Come on, tan lines are tacky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5y4qKRXI/AAAAAAAACRQ/3Jocx_O_bek/s1600/IMG_3386.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5y4qKRXI/AAAAAAAACRQ/3Jocx_O_bek/s400/IMG_3386.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531891263659984242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph had a huge breakthrough.  You see, she does not swim and has serious issues with putting her face in water, but SHE WENT SNORKELING.  It might have taken a life jacket, boogie board, licensed lifeguard on one side and me on the other, but she did it.  It was a big day and payed off with being able to swim with the largest sea turtle ever. G.J. Steph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5R8echSI/AAAAAAAACPo/BpllM6g-e4A/s1600/33864_434570517746_587737746_5203329_7713187_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5R8echSI/AAAAAAAACPo/BpllM6g-e4A/s400/33864_434570517746_587737746_5203329_7713187_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531890697748907298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from sunbathing, the only other thing we did was eat, and eat and eat.  It took us a few tries, but we found the best shaved ice on the island and by the end of the trip were friends with the owner. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8OU4h5qI/AAAAAAAACSI/TbLb98loOBQ/s1600/IMG_5364.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8OU4h5qI/AAAAAAAACSI/TbLb98loOBQ/s400/IMG_5364.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531893934116169378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5dB3QjgI/AAAAAAAACQQ/NyzSTO4FGK4/s1600/60788_434574672746_587737746_5203401_6538666_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5dB3QjgI/AAAAAAAACQQ/NyzSTO4FGK4/s400/60788_434574672746_587737746_5203401_6538666_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531890888173719042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5dODjtvI/AAAAAAAACQI/eDrzSbNqoJw/s1600/60788_434574662746_587737746_5203400_4507530_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5dODjtvI/AAAAAAAACQI/eDrzSbNqoJw/s400/60788_434574662746_587737746_5203400_4507530_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531890891446531826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next to shaved ice, our other favorite dessert was yogurt land. Guys, it's amazing.  You pay by the lb and can choose from multiple fat free delicious yogurts and pretty much every topping you could image.  I think it really takes an art form to make the perfect creation and luckily those of us in Seattle can continue trying new formulas with there soon to open location in Capital Hill.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5dqZZrfI/AAAAAAAACQg/3bWH7Abkp8I/s1600/61508_434567132746_587737746_5203263_6076781_n-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5dqZZrfI/AAAAAAAACQg/3bWH7Abkp8I/s400/61508_434567132746_587737746_5203263_6076781_n-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531890899054341618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to make it even better, we got to meet up with this great girl who just happens to live in Hawaii.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5dTpXIUI/AAAAAAAACQY/mujYZi2cGBY/s1600/61508_434567117746_587737746_5203260_3770722_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5dTpXIUI/AAAAAAAACQY/mujYZi2cGBY/s400/61508_434567117746_587737746_5203260_3770722_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531890892947267906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the BEST food find of the trip was this heavenly creation.  Thick white chocolate chip macadamia nut pancakes, with home made coconut syrup and home made fat full whip cream on top.  I maybe ate until I wanted to cry and waited in line for over an hour for this bad boy, but I would do it again in a heartbeat.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5ShK0qOI/AAAAAAAACP4/2JXNkOGjM7w/s1600/60788_434574647746_587737746_5203398_638356_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5ShK0qOI/AAAAAAAACP4/2JXNkOGjM7w/s400/60788_434574647746_587737746_5203398_638356_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531890707598715106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P and I left the kids at home and had date night out.  It was kind of the perfect date. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5dpj7rjI/AAAAAAAACQo/3VC-_-nlfpI/s1600/62534_434577662746_587737746_5203455_3605887_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5dpj7rjI/AAAAAAAACQo/3VC-_-nlfpI/s400/62534_434577662746_587737746_5203455_3605887_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531890898830077490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also did a lot of driving in the car which quickly turned into family sing along time/we missed the beach and are now stuck on some road that we might not make it off of alive.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5yNcN8FI/AAAAAAAACQ4/gDt5RTFgM-4/s1600/62977_434565952746_587737746_5203246_6669031_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5yNcN8FI/AAAAAAAACQ4/gDt5RTFgM-4/s400/62977_434565952746_587737746_5203246_6669031_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531891252058779730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5xYwciqI/AAAAAAAACQw/XYfw2rZ9A6g/s1600/62534_434577667746_587737746_5203456_3130608_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5xYwciqI/AAAAAAAACQw/XYfw2rZ9A6g/s400/62534_434577667746_587737746_5203456_3130608_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531891237916543650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and did I mention that it was Steph's real birthday while we were there.  P treated her to a little special Happy Birthday song. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU7WJXMItI/AAAAAAAACRo/9XCcUolu7ho/s1600/IMG_5431.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU7WJXMItI/AAAAAAAACRo/9XCcUolu7ho/s400/IMG_5431.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531892968950866642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was pretty much the best vacation ever.  Guys, let's do this every year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8ISjm__I/AAAAAAAACSA/vlXtlgBMzXQ/s1600/IMG_5389.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 189px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8ISjm__I/AAAAAAAACSA/vlXtlgBMzXQ/s400/IMG_5389.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531893830412337138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU7YFe7k8I/AAAAAAAACR4/GIolzb1cm_s/s1600/IMG_5391.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 182px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU7YFe7k8I/AAAAAAAACR4/GIolzb1cm_s/s400/IMG_5391.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531893002269332418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU7X1Y6a5I/AAAAAAAACRw/Z9oosLOYKO8/s1600/IMG_5418.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU7X1Y6a5I/AAAAAAAACRw/Z9oosLOYKO8/s400/IMG_5418.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531892997949123474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU7VjpzOgI/AAAAAAAACRY/AENZR9mn2O0/s1600/IMG_5506.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 354px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU7VjpzOgI/AAAAAAAACRY/AENZR9mn2O0/s400/IMG_5506.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531892958828378626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5ydDdxnI/AAAAAAAACRA/dLctUCWLpT0/s1600/63287_434560537746_587737746_5203154_7234492_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU5ydDdxnI/AAAAAAAACRA/dLctUCWLpT0/s400/63287_434560537746_587737746_5203154_7234492_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531891256249927282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-8671729906189930265?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/8671729906189930265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=8671729906189930265&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8671729906189930265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8671729906189930265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/11/maui.html' title='Maui Babe'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TMU8hTxa-WI/AAAAAAAACSY/K0Z-fbRmIuo/s72-c/IMG_5330.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5472703639511053938</id><published>2010-10-27T15:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T15:23:59.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What the ? part II</title><content type='html'>Woman in the elevator had 2 ladybugs in her hair.  Apparently it's not just me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5472703639511053938?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5472703639511053938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5472703639511053938&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5472703639511053938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5472703639511053938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/10/what-part-ii.html' title='What the ? part II'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-8386475665405923770</id><published>2010-10-27T13:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T13:28:30.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What the?</title><content type='html'>My client just pulled an aunt out of my hair.  Gross and does this mean I get to leave early?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-8386475665405923770?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/8386475665405923770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=8386475665405923770&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8386475665405923770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8386475665405923770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/10/what.html' title='What the?'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-438708459864625435</id><published>2010-10-25T01:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T01:33:53.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>C.O.T.D.</title><content type='html'>First thing heard this morning while still in bed as S &amp; S were about to leave the house around 10:30am:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going to put on my sweatpants.  Do you want more candy?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-438708459864625435?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/438708459864625435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=438708459864625435&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/438708459864625435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/438708459864625435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/10/cotd.html' title='C.O.T.D.'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5639021235049032043</id><published>2010-10-19T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T10:13:15.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dream Job</title><content type='html'>Guys.  I found my dream job.  I want to live in Austin and work here! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="background-image:url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/wMp123xNG4s/hqdefault.jpg)"  width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wMp123xNG4s?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wMp123xNG4s?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" width="480" height="295" allowScriptAccess="never" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5639021235049032043?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5639021235049032043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5639021235049032043&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5639021235049032043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5639021235049032043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-dream-job.html' title='My Dream Job'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-6206003393431163317</id><published>2010-09-30T21:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T00:11:49.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'>30th Birthday Party</title><content type='html'>I've got some amazing friends that managed to pull of the greatest surprise of all.  The worlds best 30th surprise birthday party.  It was perfect.  Delicious food, amazing people and a casual night of laughter and Diet Coke.  Thanks to everyone for your hard work on pulling it off.  I loved it almost as much as I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl_2MrJzI/AAAAAAAACNc/MMgRRl8g53k/s1600/056_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl_2MrJzI/AAAAAAAACNc/MMgRRl8g53k/s400/056_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522932665594619698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl_h5y8hI/AAAAAAAACNU/Q_Dv2nYkBQQ/s1600/052_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl_h5y8hI/AAAAAAAACNU/Q_Dv2nYkBQQ/s400/052_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522932660146729490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmQd9YaOI/AAAAAAAACNs/fztTC6LkxAg/s1600/109_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmQd9YaOI/AAAAAAAACNs/fztTC6LkxAg/s400/109_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522932951145801954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmQBQWNkI/AAAAAAAACNk/xbd3n6G0v7U/s1600/083_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmQBQWNkI/AAAAAAAACNk/xbd3n6G0v7U/s400/083_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522932943440721474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmcP4LaMI/AAAAAAAACOk/ItJe6IzGY4A/s1600/262_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmcP4LaMI/AAAAAAAACOk/ItJe6IzGY4A/s400/262_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522933153524312258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmcJK8cfI/AAAAAAAACOc/VMPGEllGMIg/s1600/257_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmcJK8cfI/AAAAAAAACOc/VMPGEllGMIg/s400/257_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522933151723975154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmb_uSyEI/AAAAAAAACOU/vRlOIlerajE/s1600/251_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmb_uSyEI/AAAAAAAACOU/vRlOIlerajE/s400/251_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522933149187885122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmbgyIr5I/AAAAAAAACOM/TTcSWbwc82M/s1600/240_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmbgyIr5I/AAAAAAAACOM/TTcSWbwc82M/s400/240_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522933140882501522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmRL-oSNI/AAAAAAAACOE/ckW6FOXbikk/s1600/223_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmRL-oSNI/AAAAAAAACOE/ckW6FOXbikk/s400/223_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522932963499067602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmQ3bj_SI/AAAAAAAACN8/MIRux7yCCq4/s1600/213_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmQ3bj_SI/AAAAAAAACN8/MIRux7yCCq4/s400/213_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522932957983276322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmQoP3FMI/AAAAAAAACN0/qWREJKGKQTg/s1600/183_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVmQoP3FMI/AAAAAAAACN0/qWREJKGKQTg/s400/183_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522932953907664066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl_d-5SWI/AAAAAAAACNM/5fsKhhJlng4/s1600/018_09-24-10_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl_d-5SWI/AAAAAAAACNM/5fsKhhJlng4/s400/018_09-24-10_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522932659094374754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl_M0lCSI/AAAAAAAACNE/-G-TonSGJ90/s1600/014_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl_M0lCSI/AAAAAAAACNE/-G-TonSGJ90/s400/014_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522932654487701794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl-9STOgI/AAAAAAAACM8/-zs1zTErWMc/s1600/007_09-24-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl-9STOgI/AAAAAAAACM8/-zs1zTErWMc/s400/007_09-24-10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522932650317396482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-6206003393431163317?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/6206003393431163317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=6206003393431163317&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6206003393431163317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6206003393431163317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/09/30th-birthday-party.html' title='30th Birthday Party'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKVl_2MrJzI/AAAAAAAACNc/MMgRRl8g53k/s72-c/056_09-24-10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-35762034679868440</id><published>2010-09-28T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T15:12:50.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fred Meyer</title><content type='html'>I love the Ballard Fred Meyer. Seriously. I know where everything is, they have a great selection and I'm almost facebook friends with the cute old guy that checks me out and knows more about me then some of my friends. I like it so much, I'm willing to pass 5+ grocery stores and drive all they way to Ballard just to shop there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Steph and I where in the area and stopped by to pick up a few things and WOW. There was a DJ blaring music, freshmen in lanyards pushing carts, and buses dropping of more freshmen. As Steph and I tried to divide and concur our list to get out of there as fast as possible, I could not help but tell her this was crazy. "I'm 30. I can't be here." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it was when the girls passing out free chips in their uggs and short short started singing every word to the song I had never heard that I felt it; I was 30. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Fred Meyer. See you Saturday sans Dawg Day 2010.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-35762034679868440?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/35762034679868440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=35762034679868440&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/35762034679868440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/35762034679868440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/09/fred-meyer.html' title='Fred Meyer'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1586037979102063451</id><published>2010-09-27T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T18:23:00.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cause I'm 30</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKFDT9FWnrI/AAAAAAAACLE/K8p9RASP0jQ/s1600/1265330179_d762061d2c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 190px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKFDT9FWnrI/AAAAAAAACLE/K8p9RASP0jQ/s200/1265330179_d762061d2c.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521768628226530994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my last few hours in my 20's and it's caused me to do a lot of reflecting on life.  Some good, some not so good, but I've decided I'm excited for my 30's and can't wait to start using it as an excuse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What, you need help moving this weekend.  I'm sorry I can't.  I'm 30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm going to eat all of the ice cream.  I'm 30.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See. It's fun.  Here's to a new decade of life's adventures where ever they might take me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1586037979102063451?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1586037979102063451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1586037979102063451&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1586037979102063451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1586037979102063451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/09/cause-im-30.html' title='Cause I&apos;m 30'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TKFDT9FWnrI/AAAAAAAACLE/K8p9RASP0jQ/s72-c/1265330179_d762061d2c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5027922800735428969</id><published>2010-09-06T00:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T00:41:54.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Churched out</title><content type='html'>I'm a Mormon.  Born and raised.  And while I've had my ups and downs with The Church, I've had too many spiritually amazing experiences to ever deny that it's Christ's true church restored on this earth.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've been feeling a little spiritually "down." I know this is all due to me and my lack of daily commitment, but I just feel like I'm going through The Church motions.  I go to church, I do my best to obey the commandments, I try to be nice to others and I try to be like Jesus, but lately I've been missing those Spiritual boosts that help get me through the week.  I miss my old ward.  I miss the spiritual high I use to feel from my church calling.  I miss the desire to study the scriptures.  I know it's all still true, but I'm just feeling church blah. (Oh, stop judging.  We all get this way) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been praying a lot about this and was looking forward to church today with high hopes.  I made it just as we starting singing the opening song and I could not focus on the words or feelings because the tempo was so slow.  It was killing me.  Seriously.  Then all of our Bishopric was out of town so the EQP was conducting and he did a great job, but it just felt weird since he looks about 12. Then came the Sacrament hymn and again it was soooooooo slow it was driving me crazy.  I could not focus on a thing.  Then as the Elder (who is 31) started to say the Sacrament pray, his voice squeaked like a prepubescent boy and I could not stop giggling (because I too am a 12 year old boy at heart).  Needless to say, I was having an off day, was not feeling The Spirit, and was struggling being at church.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People started to share their testimonies and I did my best to focus on their words and my feeling but I could not stop thinking about the craft projects I had waiting for me at home or the dreamboat sitting next to me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A new kid got up to share his testimony and I could tell there was something about him.  He started to tell us this was his first time back at church in a few years.  His mom was cleaning out his room and found his scriptures and asked if he wanted them.  Something made him drive home to get them.  He started reading and he "remembered."  He remembered the feeling of the Spirit and of his Savior's love for him.  He remembered and wanted more.  He told his friends he could not be friends with them anymore, said he was looking for a new job to put him in a better work environment and that he was so happy to feel the Spirit again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here this kid was humbly telling a group of strangers how glad he was to "remember" the truthfulness of The Gospel.  It was so powerful he was even willing to change major things in his life and start over.  It made me stop and "remember" the things I've felt recently.  My Heavenly Father has been giving me those Spiritual Boosts all along, I was just not remembering them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with the slow songs, lack of leadership, and personal doubt, my Heavenly Father was able to answer my personal prays at church today through a humble stranger.  Amazing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5027922800735428969?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5027922800735428969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5027922800735428969&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5027922800735428969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5027922800735428969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/09/churched-out.html' title='Churched out'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-3794147257890840720</id><published>2010-08-23T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T21:49:57.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote of the Day</title><content type='html'>P: "I know what you want to do, but what should we do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could not stop laughing.  He knows me a little too well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-3794147257890840720?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/3794147257890840720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=3794147257890840720&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3794147257890840720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3794147257890840720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/08/quote-of-day.html' title='Quote of the Day'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-4818394767863487762</id><published>2010-08-23T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T22:07:13.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Concerts</title><content type='html'>Remember how I love the George Amphitheater and Kings of Leon, but sadly the two did not mix well.  The sound was so horrible and one point the entire audience was chanting, "Turn it up." On top of the bad sound about 90% of the songs were from their new album yet to be released which means no one knew them what means the audience was not very into the show.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfDWc7NZaI/AAAAAAAACKA/th8t1OP312c/s1600/KOL.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfDWc7NZaI/AAAAAAAACKA/th8t1OP312c/s400/KOL.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501080260345423266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contrast that with Gregory Alan Isakov in Bellingham.  The venue was a quaint twinkle light lit backyard.  Lights, summer weather, 50 people in a backyard and GAI makes for one magical night.  I wish we could do that again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfDV81JFkI/AAAAAAAACJ4/OlBN99cv85A/s1600/GAIGroup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfDV81JFkI/AAAAAAAACJ4/OlBN99cv85A/s400/GAIGroup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501080251730040386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gregory.  Thanks for singing the songs I yelled out and requested. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfDVZ4blMI/AAAAAAAACJw/hlTORqGkT6k/s1600/GAI.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfDVZ4blMI/AAAAAAAACJw/hlTORqGkT6k/s400/GAI.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501080242348594370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-4818394767863487762?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/4818394767863487762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=4818394767863487762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4818394767863487762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4818394767863487762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/08/concerts.html' title='Concerts'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfDWc7NZaI/AAAAAAAACKA/th8t1OP312c/s72-c/KOL.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5053382764790712845</id><published>2010-08-23T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T21:56:48.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock n' Roll Seattle 10'</title><content type='html'>We ran the Seattle Rock n' Roll 1/2 marathon.  She was the perfect running partner.  Kept me laughing, sang me silly songs, and was all about enjoying the race. Thanks Brooke.  Can't wait to do a full marathon with you!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFEQYcQFJAI/AAAAAAAACIY/YZ2v29s8_xI/s1600/brooke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 339px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFEQYcQFJAI/AAAAAAAACIY/YZ2v29s8_xI/s400/brooke.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499194632082629634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the best parts of racing is knowing there are great people waiting and cheering you on at the end.  Thanks for all of the support guys.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFEO0Y99q7I/AAAAAAAACIA/PiI7O3nEGfo/s1600/fam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFEO0Y99q7I/AAAAAAAACIA/PiI7O3nEGfo/s400/fam.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499192913214417842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFEQXuYGMHI/AAAAAAAACIQ/v7xkAx8SFzQ/s1600/rungroup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFEQXuYGMHI/AAAAAAAACIQ/v7xkAx8SFzQ/s400/rungroup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499194619768221810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was quite a feeling of accomplishment to finish this race again.  Just a year before it was my first 1/2 marathon and not it was my 6th and I finished it with ease.  How many have you done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFEO00QDpbI/AAAAAAAACII/0NABNOVoiXM/s1600/run.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFEO00QDpbI/AAAAAAAACII/0NABNOVoiXM/s400/run.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499192920538064306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5053382764790712845?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5053382764790712845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5053382764790712845&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5053382764790712845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5053382764790712845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/08/rock-n-roll-seattle-10.html' title='Rock n&apos; Roll Seattle 10&apos;'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFEQYcQFJAI/AAAAAAAACIY/YZ2v29s8_xI/s72-c/brooke.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-8848324402273622872</id><published>2010-08-23T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T22:34:39.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cayamo Reunion Seattle Style</title><content type='html'>So I never blogged about my amazing adventures on Cayamo, but whatever.  One of the MANY things I love about it are the great people I have become friends with.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First there is Mike and Dwayne.  We sat by them the first year during our headliner shows.  We quickly hit it off and found that gay men and straight Mormon women make great BFF's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC0lNi3SI/AAAAAAAACI4/OgQKO0zrTkQ/s1600/cayamo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC0lNi3SI/AAAAAAAACI4/OgQKO0zrTkQ/s400/cayamo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501079678454258978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is Jack our first year.  I met Jack out on the pool deck.  I was reading a book, he kept offering me some of his beer.  Before I knew it, I was giving Jack the first discussion and was was claiming Steph and I as wife #1 and #2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC-OgDpDI/AAAAAAAACJY/l2J_rFaY630/s1600/wed1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC-OgDpDI/AAAAAAAACJY/l2J_rFaY630/s400/wed1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501079844156580914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only was Jack amazing, but his girlfriend Amy was just as great. Seriously, love these people.  This past year, Jack proposed to Amy so we all got bumped down a wife number, but being the good wives that we are we brought 2 additional wives with us.  Here we are lined up in order, following Jacks order to stand in a line and not touch him.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC-sYwR7I/AAAAAAAACJo/d8340Sre2Iw/s1600/wives.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC-sYwR7I/AAAAAAAACJo/d8340Sre2Iw/s400/wives.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501079852179015602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least there is Amy and Stacy.  These two gals were formalizing their love and got hitched which brought the entire Cayamo family to Seattle.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC-thI1ZI/AAAAAAAACJg/5DWCs2i4rB8/s1600/wed2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC-thI1ZI/AAAAAAAACJg/5DWCs2i4rB8/s400/wed2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501079852482614674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC1s3BmuI/AAAAAAAACJQ/PjhYWFaNQew/s1600/wed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC1s3BmuI/AAAAAAAACJQ/PjhYWFaNQew/s400/wed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501079697687157474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a beautiful Seattle day and was so fun to see everyone more then once a year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC1d9M3UI/AAAAAAAACJI/nFy8jmKMe4M/s1600/MD.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC1d9M3UI/AAAAAAAACJI/nFy8jmKMe4M/s400/MD.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501079693686529346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC1AE_1wI/AAAAAAAACJA/ekhifuL2IaY/s1600/JA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC1AE_1wI/AAAAAAAACJA/ekhifuL2IaY/s400/JA.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501079685666166530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys.  We will see you again in February.  We'll be the ones chasing down our ice cream with s*@t loads of Diet Coke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC0depNMI/AAAAAAAACIw/Hvx-YuV5ekU/s1600/bar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC0depNMI/AAAAAAAACIw/Hvx-YuV5ekU/s400/bar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501079676378494146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-8848324402273622872?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/8848324402273622872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=8848324402273622872&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8848324402273622872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8848324402273622872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/08/cayamo-reunion-seattle-style.html' title='Cayamo Reunion Seattle Style'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFfC0lNi3SI/AAAAAAAACI4/OgQKO0zrTkQ/s72-c/cayamo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-3216398636529507299</id><published>2010-08-04T00:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T01:01:23.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cat Spirit</title><content type='html'>I came home from a long day around 11:30 and noticed that Max did not greet me at the door like he always does.  I figured he was already sleeping in my bed, but only his hair was there.  I went to see if he was with Steph, but when she had not seen him since she got home around 10:30 I started to freak out inside.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the feeling that is deep inside and brings tears to your eyes because at that instant you know something is very wrong.  I stared looking everywhere, woke up my other roommate to see if she had seen him and was about to burst into tears and make P come over to help when I heard a little cry outside by the front door.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could pick out Max's cry from a room full of cats.  Seriously.  I really do have the cat spirit.  We played Marco Polo for a while until he figured out I was trying to take him inside and he likes it outside.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was walking barefoot through my neighbors garden I stepped on something soft, slimy, and really squishy.  Steph laughed as I wanting to scream out in disgust that I had just killed a slug with my bare feet.  I guess it is kind of payback for &lt;a href="http://thehardestthingandtherightthing.blogspot.com/2008/06/oprah-was-right.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am 20 minutes, later after a flashlight chase through two neighbors backyards and a foot scrub like you have never seen, with Max...in bed...right where he should have been all along.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max.  It's a good thing I love you and that you ran inside because new cats are free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFkbUIxszTI/AAAAAAAACKI/WFbnZtd-OnM/s1600/max.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFkbUIxszTI/AAAAAAAACKI/WFbnZtd-OnM/s400/max.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501458452577045810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-3216398636529507299?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/3216398636529507299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=3216398636529507299&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3216398636529507299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3216398636529507299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/08/cat-spirit.html' title='Cat Spirit'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TFkbUIxszTI/AAAAAAAACKI/WFbnZtd-OnM/s72-c/max.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7605825395087128271</id><published>2010-07-28T23:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T23:24:33.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back</title><content type='html'>Me: I should start blogging again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph:  Seriously.  Stop having a real life and put crap on the internet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-7605825395087128271?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7605825395087128271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7605825395087128271&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7605825395087128271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7605825395087128271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1742862256104493434</id><published>2010-06-21T23:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T23:47:36.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kirkland 1/2</title><content type='html'>It was a Wednesday night when my crazy running buddy called to tempt me with a local 1/2 marathon that Sunday.  I pondered it for point two seconds and was in.  I was a little worries since I had run a 1/2 about 3 weeks before and only ran a few times since, but knew I could finish.  We woke up early and anxiously waited in the sun for the race to start.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TBiCiKLH4EI/AAAAAAAACHo/9OupTNzrguM/s1600/before.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TBiCiKLH4EI/AAAAAAAACHo/9OupTNzrguM/s400/before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483276069681750082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We ran, and ran, and ran.  It was a beautiful course, but man was it hilly.  Probably one of the tougher courses I've run on.  It felt like we just kept running uphill for the first 10 miles and then had the steepest, short downhill block that was so steep you had to slow down so your knees did not jam through your face.  See: &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TBiCg5-PZwI/AAAAAAAACHY/0sFLe-aE9ZQ/s1600/kirkland+half.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 246px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TBiCg5-PZwI/AAAAAAAACHY/0sFLe-aE9ZQ/s400/kirkland+half.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483276048152880898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunny did a great job keeping me occupied and we made friends with the "lady" cheer quad that was driving the entire course cheering everyone one.  We finished strong and quickly headed home since I had an interview with the Stake President...to get a new calling. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TBiChckDT7I/AAAAAAAACHg/6RdzLV62nqU/s1600/after.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TBiChckDT7I/AAAAAAAACHg/6RdzLV62nqU/s400/after.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483276057438277554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Sunny for another great race.  I owe it all to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1742862256104493434?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1742862256104493434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1742862256104493434&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1742862256104493434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1742862256104493434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/06/kirkland-12.html' title='Kirkland 1/2'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TBiCiKLH4EI/AAAAAAAACHo/9OupTNzrguM/s72-c/before.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-50981575784205477</id><published>2010-06-16T00:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T00:57:34.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diet Coke</title><content type='html'>Guys, it's no secret that I love me some Diet Coke.  I can still remember my first one.  I was in 6th grade and it was right before a school event.  I went to the fridge in the garage and grabbed one.  Yes, we had a dedicated fridge in the garage for Diet Coke.  I'm sure my mom put other things in there like fruit, but all I remember it having was soda.  I cracked it open and took a sip knowing it had to taste like magic since my mom and sisters drank it like water.  I gulped and wanted to barf.  Who would want to drink what I could only describe as battery juice.  I wanted to be "cool" so I suffered through the entire can in front of my friends.  Fast forward 17 years and it's an entirely different story.  I love the stuff.  I see it as my morning coffee, lunchtime treat and/or nightcap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While enjoying a delicious lunch at my new favorite restaurant, Selanas Guadalajara, I could not stop thinking about the beautiful cup my Diet Coke had come in.  The green tinted glass, slender waist, and thickness had me thinking naughty aesthetically pleasing thoughts.  I had to have them.  I asked the waitress if she would be willing to sell me two and you know what...she GAVE them to me, but made me promise to come back again.  I think my sparkly clean plate and protruding gut spoke for themselves, but I assured her I would.  They look like this sans the handle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TBh758MUNAI/AAAAAAAACHQ/ouvoA9tpOjM/s1600/45GlassMug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TBh758MUNAI/AAAAAAAACHQ/ouvoA9tpOjM/s320/45GlassMug.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483268781664121858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then tonight I was watching the Celtics game (let's not talk about it) while enjoying pizza, but needed a fountain Diet Coke to complete the meal.  At the half we set out to grab one near P's house:  Shell gas station 1 - no fountain drinks; Chevron gas station 1 - Pepsi; Shell gas station 2 - Pepsi; McDonalds - freaking closed for major renovation; Chevron gas station 2 - Coke Slurpee, Pepsi fountain drinks.  Now P was pissed about the game and I was just as livid about the lack of a Diet Coke fountain drink, but at that point I figured it was not meant to be.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you win some and lose some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  Costco has sadly now turned to the dark side.  I'd be willing to pay $2.00 for my hotdog and soda, just please bring back Coke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-50981575784205477?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/50981575784205477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=50981575784205477&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/50981575784205477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/50981575784205477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/06/diet-coke.html' title='Diet Coke'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/TBh758MUNAI/AAAAAAAACHQ/ouvoA9tpOjM/s72-c/45GlassMug.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5744379517518435854</id><published>2010-05-18T15:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T15:31:09.664-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Austin</title><content type='html'>I spent a few days in Austin Texas for a work photo shoot and I fell in love.  If I ever have to move away from Seattle, Austin might be next on my list.  The people were genuine and kind, their &lt;a href="http://sunnyandwilmarathon.blogspot.com/2010/04/morning-run-in-austin-along-town-lake.html"&gt;running trails&lt;/a&gt; were great, the live music was everywhere, and the food....OMG.  I wanted to bathe in the sweet BBQ goodness and my introduction to cake balls has made me a new woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also love how much Texas pride everyone has.  I don't know where it really comes from, but man are they loud and proud.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call this photo series, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"You know you're in Texas when..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR6qjdh-I/AAAAAAAACHI/lA8dKKmA8Qk/s1600/cow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR6qjdh-I/AAAAAAAACHI/lA8dKKmA8Qk/s400/cow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472737671738394594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You have real cow hide furniture in your hotel room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR6D64hyI/AAAAAAAACHA/U8O_xCPQt0A/s1600/johnny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR6D64hyI/AAAAAAAACHA/U8O_xCPQt0A/s400/johnny.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472737661367650082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is an entire bar dedicated to Johnny Cash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR5jnWeKI/AAAAAAAACG4/JnLaNBLlpUA/s1600/cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR5jnWeKI/AAAAAAAACG4/JnLaNBLlpUA/s400/cake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472737652695791778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You can buy cake balls from a street vendor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR5bhP0TI/AAAAAAAACGw/BF2iNvFp2ak/s1600/doors.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR5bhP0TI/AAAAAAAACGw/BF2iNvFp2ak/s400/doors.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472737650522706226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The bathrooms in downtown office buildings have swinging doors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR4u9RZYI/AAAAAAAACGo/31yUQbcJb3k/s1600/cheese.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR4u9RZYI/AAAAAAAACGo/31yUQbcJb3k/s400/cheese.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472737638560654722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Your cheese block is in the shape of Texas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5744379517518435854?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5744379517518435854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5744379517518435854&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5744379517518435854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5744379517518435854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/05/austin.html' title='Austin'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S_MR6qjdh-I/AAAAAAAACHI/lA8dKKmA8Qk/s72-c/cow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-6558340447129886290</id><published>2010-04-28T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T18:02:00.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain Dump</title><content type='html'>The other day I gave a piece of licorice to the homeless man on the freeway on ramp. Judging by the way he gummed it down, I think he enjoyed breakfast as much as I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm freakishly amazing at Mario 3.  It's been years since I played it, but I still remember all the tricks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My big 30th birthday is coming up and I'm in the works of planning something big...for myself.  Let's hope it works out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly and honestly believe the world would be a better place if everyone was on medication and went to therapy.  Try it, you won't regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new obsession is with roller derby.  Chicks battling it out on roller skates, drinking a diet coke, good friends, and a crazy crowd...I mean come on.  Now to think of my derby name...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been church calling free for about a month now and part of me feels lost while the other part beats the crap out of that part.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-6558340447129886290?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/6558340447129886290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=6558340447129886290&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6558340447129886290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6558340447129886290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/04/brain-dump.html' title='Brain Dump'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7715610328319663458</id><published>2010-04-26T23:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T00:08:03.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SLC 1/2 Marathon</title><content type='html'>Woke up early Saturday morning and headed towards the start line to run another 1/2 marathon with Adria.  We had a great time running together &lt;a href="http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/09/utah.html"&gt;last time&lt;/a&gt; so why not do it again.  I was feeling great and surprisingly relaxed.  Mentally I knew I it was going to be a great race so while Adria did a proper warm up, I worked on my sweet robot dance moves.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S9aBWNOeQtI/AAAAAAAACGc/4-WBzyua2P0/s1600/run1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 345px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S9aBWNOeQtI/AAAAAAAACGc/4-WBzyua2P0/s400/run1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464697416368145106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The race started and we were off.  I thought there would have been a larger crowd, but there were still plenty of crazies to look at including a few old friends.  The weather was perfect, the temperature ideal and gradual downhill course was much appreciated for someone that did not train as hard as she should have.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our cheer squad found us around mile seven with this great sign (click the photo if you can't read it) and a fountain Diet Coke.  Who knew a swig of the good stuff would hit the spot.  Kept running and surprising lost track of mile 8 and passed the mile 9 sign feeling great. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S9aBVaOtP7I/AAAAAAAACGU/zJuRkbm5AVY/s1600/run2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S9aBVaOtP7I/AAAAAAAACGU/zJuRkbm5AVY/s400/run2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464697402678919090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rounded the last corner and up the long and slow hill, but SLC has NOTHING on Seattle hills so it did not kill me.  Headed towards the Gateway Mall and the crowds stared to appear.  High-fived Steph and finished strong.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S9aBU2lbDqI/AAAAAAAACGM/ZDl5Rvjwas8/s1600/run3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S9aBU2lbDqI/AAAAAAAACGM/ZDl5Rvjwas8/s400/run3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464697393110519458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While it was not my best time I had a fun time.  I felt better then I've ever felt after a 1/2 and I'm pretty sure it's thanks to this great cheer squad and running partner.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S9aBT_0Fq8I/AAAAAAAACGE/wSacg-hvlPs/s1600/run4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 247px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S9aBT_0Fq8I/AAAAAAAACGE/wSacg-hvlPs/s400/run4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464697378408082370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-7715610328319663458?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7715610328319663458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7715610328319663458&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7715610328319663458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7715610328319663458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/04/slc-12-marathon.html' title='SLC 1/2 Marathon'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S9aBWNOeQtI/AAAAAAAACGc/4-WBzyua2P0/s72-c/run1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5691291285868284226</id><published>2010-04-21T15:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T16:01:42.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catch Up</title><content type='html'>I'm going to be better about this blogging thing.  I'm now so far behind it's a little overwhelming to know where to start so for my own record keeping and sanity I give you the longest most random post ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Concerts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a few I missed blogging about last year, but here is the short version. &lt;br /&gt;                        A Swell Season&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FC6Ya6I6I/AAAAAAAACEc/VXuAMvWJuHo/s1600-h/swell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 199px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FC6Ya6I6I/AAAAAAAACEc/VXuAMvWJuHo/s400/swell.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431696196340687778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Did you ever see the movie Once?  You should have.  These two are great. At one point, he rocked out so hard on his guitar he broke 2 strings, 3 times and all this after an annoying 5 minute conversation he had with someone in the balcony.  Strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the Kelly Clarkson and Eric Hutchinson concert with these lovely ladies.  There honestly is nothing more therapeutic then singing Kelly's songs at the top of your lungs with some great girlfriends.  It also helped that we sat by a few creepy and crazy people.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCurb9baI/AAAAAAAACD8/eRYGMX53bKE/s1600-h/k.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCurb9baI/AAAAAAAACD8/eRYGMX53bKE/s400/k.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695995286941090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretty much am the luckiest person because not only does my family rock, but my friends are the greatest ever.  I spent numerous nights laughing and crying with these girls.  They have helped get me through some rough patches, helped me see the errors of my way, listen to me complain, kept my secrets and let me lend a shoulder in return.  They support me in my running adventures and are always game for a little  Glass Castle.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FC62VXQ2I/AAAAAAAACEk/6n8FhxMhWjw/s1600-h/usswellseason.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FC62VXQ2I/AAAAAAAACEk/6n8FhxMhWjw/s400/usswellseason.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431696204370494306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I've got great friends in WA and UT this cute little one has been gone for much to long.  S - I know you are having a great time in Taiwan, but I miss you!  Come back to us soon.  I'm going to make a paper chain and start counting down the days.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCiZH-T8I/AAAAAAAACDc/AM21CePkzL0/s1600-h/beasystreet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCiZH-T8I/AAAAAAAACDc/AM21CePkzL0/s400/beasystreet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695784212844482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've really been working on being a better friend and cleaning my life of all drama/games.  It's been hard and lonely at times, but it seems to be working. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was home for a weekend visiting the Clays when my brother asked my dad if he could "borrow some of his closes."  Ben was going to an office Christmas party and needed to dress up like a cowboy.  My dad was convinced he would not find what he was looking for, but I think Ben did all right.  I might have died laughing at this one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCtOSuqsI/AAAAAAAACDk/_gfjxJgC8Ro/s1600-h/ben.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 195px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCtOSuqsI/AAAAAAAACDk/_gfjxJgC8Ro/s400/ben.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695970283727554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the Clays, how can you not just love this little face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCK5lJQGI/AAAAAAAACB0/Bb0vkQqUsBs/s1600-h/187_12-20-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCK5lJQGI/AAAAAAAACB0/Bb0vkQqUsBs/s400/187_12-20-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695380608270434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FC5Qc6tMI/AAAAAAAACEM/fQKVX3auyCU/s1600-h/mable.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FC5Qc6tMI/AAAAAAAACEM/fQKVX3auyCU/s400/mable.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431696177021760706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came Christmas with the Moores in sunny California.  Who does not want to wake up Christmas morning to these cute little ones.  Macy is a girl after my own heart wearing her sunglasses, princesses pj's and vacuuming.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCXQm--4I/AAAAAAAACC0/DIB_rgusZ58/s1600-h/430_12-25-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCXQm--4I/AAAAAAAACC0/DIB_rgusZ58/s400/430_12-25-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695592948431746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCXePaPhI/AAAAAAAACCs/BMYC0Hu0W4I/s1600-h/384_12-25-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCXePaPhI/AAAAAAAACCs/BMYC0Hu0W4I/s400/384_12-25-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695596607651346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCW_qJWbI/AAAAAAAACCk/AL8xZcngywI/s1600-h/382_12-25-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCW_qJWbI/AAAAAAAACCk/AL8xZcngywI/s400/382_12-25-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695588398291378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCW6QGDQI/AAAAAAAACCc/VIJOV1kVazE/s1600-h/342_12-25-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCW6QGDQI/AAAAAAAACCc/VIJOV1kVazE/s400/342_12-25-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695586946845954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCWlSDTrI/AAAAAAAACCU/9TPzaJPiI_M/s1600-h/316_12-25-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCWlSDTrI/AAAAAAAACCU/9TPzaJPiI_M/s400/316_12-25-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695581317910194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCL4cmRXI/AAAAAAAACCM/-4t3ZAjFQik/s1600-h/255_12-25-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCL4cmRXI/AAAAAAAACCM/-4t3ZAjFQik/s400/255_12-25-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695397483857266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCLuMZKcI/AAAAAAAACCE/jppSY4DloJM/s1600-h/247_12-25-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCLuMZKcI/AAAAAAAACCE/jppSY4DloJM/s400/247_12-25-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695394731534786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCLVW6zSI/AAAAAAAACB8/qXf04xgtYE8/s1600-h/244_12-25-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FCLVW6zSI/AAAAAAAACB8/qXf04xgtYE8/s400/244_12-25-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431695388064795938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2E4hW-Qp7I/AAAAAAAACBk/rnqgUKxyApU/s1600-h/macy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2E4hW-Qp7I/AAAAAAAACBk/rnqgUKxyApU/s400/macy2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431684771339085746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sisters, please keep having more babies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5691291285868284226?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5691291285868284226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5691291285868284226&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5691291285868284226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5691291285868284226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/04/catch-up.html' title='Catch Up'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2FC6Ya6I6I/AAAAAAAACEc/VXuAMvWJuHo/s72-c/swell.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-2951272572124095365</id><published>2010-04-21T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T12:28:22.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2009 Concerts....the.end.</title><content type='html'>* √ Marc Broussard&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Adele&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Amy Ray&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Brandi Carlile - Bellingham&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Cayamo&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Ten out of Tenn&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Gavin Degraw&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Brandi Carlile - SLC&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Brandi Carlile - Spokane&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Hey Marseilles&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Indigo Girls&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Brandi Carlile - Portland&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Brandi Carlile - Tripple Door&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Emmalou Harris, Patty Griffin, Shawn Colvin, Buddy Miller&lt;br /&gt;    * √ NKOTB&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Indigo Girls&lt;br /&gt;    * √ The Fray&lt;br /&gt;    * Aerosmith - CANCELED&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Amos Lee&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Dave Matthews&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Brandi Carlile - Tripple Door&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Bumbershoot - Black Eyed Peas, Franz Ferdinand, Modest Mouse&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Pink w/ The Ting Tings&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Ben Folds&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Ingrid Michaelson&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Jay - Z&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Brandi Carlile - Portland w/ Katie Herzig&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Brandi Carlile - Parmount w/ Katie Herzig&lt;br /&gt;    * √ MIKA&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Marc Broussard&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Joshua Radin&lt;br /&gt;    * √ A Fine Frenzy&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Brandi Carlile - Easy Street&lt;br /&gt;    * √ The Swell Season&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Kelly Clarkstons w/ Eric Hutchinson&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Brett Dennon, Brandi Carlile, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Gregory Alan Isakov&lt;br /&gt;    * √ The Dandy Warhols&lt;br /&gt;    * √ Muse, 30 Seconds to Mars, Metric&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW.  Not sure I can top this in 2010, but you know I'm going to try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-2951272572124095365?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/2951272572124095365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=2951272572124095365&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2951272572124095365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2951272572124095365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/04/2009-concertstheend.html' title='2009 Concerts....the.end.'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-8922461612679767650</id><published>2010-03-08T14:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T14:05:07.554-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kept My Shirt On</title><content type='html'>I survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hated EVERY minute of it...mostly the horrible sounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No root canal. Just a filling that needs to be replace, but no new cavities!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treated myself to a fountain Diet Coke immediately after.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-8922461612679767650?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/8922461612679767650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=8922461612679767650&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8922461612679767650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8922461612679767650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/03/kept-my-shirt-on.html' title='Kept My Shirt On'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5971571915919371413</id><published>2010-03-07T23:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T00:18:39.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Keeping Your Shirt On</title><content type='html'>I'm a very capable woman and can confidently do many things, but going to the dentist is NOT one of them.  You see, I hate the dentist. Seriously. I'd rather go to the gynecologist.  My dentist growing up was very nice and did a great job, but ever since the day they told me I needed a gum graft and I burst into tears and had to be heavily sedated to go to that appointment, I've never been the same.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm finally facing my fears.  It's been, let's just say MANY years since I've gone, but the past 3 months of toothache from hell have won even knowing that it most likely means a root canal.  Let's not think about that yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked around for a recommendation and found a dentist I "felt good about."  The woman on the phone making my appointment was extremely nice (even after I told her how long it had been since I've seen a dentist) and I've been trying to think positive thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I was filling out my new patient paper work and I'm freaked out more then ever.  Let's look at some of the questions they are asking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;1. Do you wear seat belts?  If not, why not?&lt;/span&gt;  Yes I do, but if I had said no would you refuse service or just give me a little less Novocain?   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;2. Do you wear a bike helmet?&lt;/span&gt; Why? Do we get to ride bikes to the X-Ray machine? That sounds fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;3. If there is a gun in your home, do you keep it unloaded and out of children's reach? &lt;/span&gt; Guns...why are we talking about guns.  Now I'm scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;4. Are you in a relationship in which you have been physically hurt (e.g. slapped, kicked, punched by your partner)?&lt;/span&gt; No, but I might slap you if you ask me questions while your hands are in my mouth so easy does it Doc.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;5. When was your past pap smear?&lt;/span&gt; Not sure what my basement has to do with my teeth.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny thing was, they never asked questions like: Do you floss, how often to you brush, etc. You know, questions THAT RELATE TO YOUR TEETH.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is a little piece of advice my mom use to give me before I went to the dentist. "Just remember, there's no reason the Dentist need to take your shirt off for any procedure."  Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5971571915919371413?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5971571915919371413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5971571915919371413&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5971571915919371413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5971571915919371413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-keeping-your-shirt-on.html' title='To Keeping Your Shirt On'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-2391774893159516105</id><published>2010-02-26T20:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T20:28:00.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Cruise Blues</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S4idzsTNiDI/AAAAAAAACF8/HkCpGa1x7jo/s1600-h/26326_327470871862_607666862_4087455_752557_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S4idzsTNiDI/AAAAAAAACF8/HkCpGa1x7jo/s400/26326_327470871862_607666862_4087455_752557_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442773661067872306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off the boat and once again had an AMAZING time at Cayamo. I'm sad my soda card no loner works and bar service is not at my beck and call.  The radio sounds like crap because I want it live and my balance is all kind of jacked.  I'm walking funny and feeling like I'm still on the boat.  Literally.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much to share, but I'm exhausted and heading to Disneyworld and one more Brandi Carlile concert tomorrow before I fly back to reality. More to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-2391774893159516105?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/2391774893159516105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=2391774893159516105&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2391774893159516105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2391774893159516105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/02/post-cruise-blues.html' title='Post Cruise Blues'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S4idzsTNiDI/AAAAAAAACF8/HkCpGa1x7jo/s72-c/26326_327470871862_607666862_4087455_752557_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-3199874758385218153</id><published>2010-02-14T23:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T23:46:37.147-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Ya</title><content type='html'>I've come to love Valentines Day.  It's the one day a year where we are given the opportunity to show our love for each other without it getting weird.  I spend months thinking about what fun project/gift I want to give, what crafts I want to make and what plans I want to have on the big day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I had HUGE plans, but due to my last minute move and the bad timing of a vacation, I just ran out of time and could not get to all I had planned.  I did however have a great V.D.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned into the best housewife ever this weekend and hosted a dinner party with some great friends, sewed 35 fabric flowers and made 45 sugar cookies for the guys at church.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had Cafe Rio type pork salad and did you notice the fun table runner I made.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4gwFRcNI/AAAAAAAACFU/pkTQrx0goMM/s1600-h/vd1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4gwFRcNI/AAAAAAAACFU/pkTQrx0goMM/s400/vd1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438369791596392658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even made red velvet cake for the first time.  This bad boys has $7 worth of red food coloring and vinegar, but man was it delicious.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4hc4oUnI/AAAAAAAACFc/_P2jAf59ItM/s1600-h/vd2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4hc4oUnI/AAAAAAAACFc/_P2jAf59ItM/s400/vd2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438369803622961778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the food was great, the company was the best part.  We did a lot of this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4h5aajPI/AAAAAAAACFk/QttJNdRNYB0/s1600-h/vd3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4h5aajPI/AAAAAAAACFk/QttJNdRNYB0/s400/vd3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438369811280858354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4iQdRP7I/AAAAAAAACFs/dMsE_TyVMHA/s1600-h/vd4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4iQdRP7I/AAAAAAAACFs/dMsE_TyVMHA/s400/vd4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438369817466847154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because great minds think alike, good things come in two, and Target sells the best dresses we had fun in our matching dresses.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4jJvzidI/AAAAAAAACF0/Vs10TAGxXAM/s1600-h/vd5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4jJvzidI/AAAAAAAACF0/Vs10TAGxXAM/s400/vd5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438369832845412818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, won't you be my Valentine?  No, seriously.  I'm looking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-3199874758385218153?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/3199874758385218153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=3199874758385218153&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3199874758385218153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3199874758385218153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/02/love-ya.html' title='Love Ya'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S3j4gwFRcNI/AAAAAAAACFU/pkTQrx0goMM/s72-c/vd1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-777762494738885577</id><published>2010-02-02T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T00:19:42.522-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quotes from my wise older sister</title><content type='html'>"Oh, I stopped reading books.  They always ruin the movie."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The only difference between a stalker and a boyfriend is you like the boyfriend."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-777762494738885577?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/777762494738885577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=777762494738885577&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/777762494738885577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/777762494738885577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/02/quotes-from-my-wise-older-sister.html' title='Quotes from my wise older sister'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-9145642886280125801</id><published>2010-02-02T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T00:23:58.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes Please</title><content type='html'>I'm in love with &lt;a href="http://www.postercabaret.com/concertposters.aspx"&gt;THIS&lt;/a&gt; site and I want one of each, but you can start by getting me these: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2IPYiLy0qI/AAAAAAAACFE/TvUegPuW9FE/s1600-h/LandSwellSeattle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 162px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2IPYiLy0qI/AAAAAAAACFE/TvUegPuW9FE/s400/LandSwellSeattle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431921014729790114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2IPQYk5k-I/AAAAAAAACE8/PJQF0hVixBo/s1600-h/ScottCCatHouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 334px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2IPQYk5k-I/AAAAAAAACE8/PJQF0hVixBo/s400/ScottCCatHouse.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431920874711782370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2IPQOLMoYI/AAAAAAAACE0/QwJChsuGpu0/s1600-h/AlbertYearning.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2IPQOLMoYI/AAAAAAAACE0/QwJChsuGpu0/s400/AlbertYearning.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431920871919624578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2IPP9z6MfI/AAAAAAAACEs/IijvFnp-tbA/s1600-h/LeiaOwls.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2IPP9z6MfI/AAAAAAAACEs/IijvFnp-tbA/s400/LeiaOwls.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431920867526980082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-9145642886280125801?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/9145642886280125801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=9145642886280125801&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/9145642886280125801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/9145642886280125801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/02/yes-please.html' title='Yes Please'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2IPYiLy0qI/AAAAAAAACFE/TvUegPuW9FE/s72-c/LandSwellSeattle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-452116046389820422</id><published>2010-01-30T01:07:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T01:11:14.331-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm A Catch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2P3V8orOEI/AAAAAAAACFM/GbF_KT0dpBQ/s1600-h/target.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2P3V8orOEI/AAAAAAAACFM/GbF_KT0dpBQ/s400/target.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432457531964995650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fellas.  I'm a catch.  Not every girl goes to Target for sports bras and a hacksaw wearing a homemade Friday Night Lights t-shirt, but this one sure does. I own power tools and always need more sports bras because I have to double bag these ladies when I run.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just saying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-452116046389820422?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/452116046389820422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=452116046389820422&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/452116046389820422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/452116046389820422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-catch.html' title='I&apos;m A Catch'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S2P3V8orOEI/AAAAAAAACFM/GbF_KT0dpBQ/s72-c/target.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-6219748103031541220</id><published>2010-01-30T01:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T01:50:49.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst 15 minutes of my life.</title><content type='html'>Hair is one of the biggest issues I have about my body.  We all have to deal with it, but thanks to my dads genetics (Remind me to tell you the story about my dad confessing his hair issues.  Hilarious!) and a hormone imbalance we won't discuss with the world wide web, it's a constant battle for me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all have hair in places we don't want.  EVERY woman waxes, sugars, plucks, lasers, etc. her mustache and if she tells you she doesn't she's either lying or has a hairy upper lip.  It's just a part of life.  I get that we all deal with it, but do you get a 5 o'clock shadow...on your legs?  I think not.  For a long time I was so embarrassed by it until one day I realized I did not do anything to cause it, but I could do something about it.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's start off with the facts.  The ONLY PROVEN PERMANENT HAIR REMOVAL IS ELECTROLYSIS.  Period.  Waxing/plucking actually make the hair grow back darker/stronger and laser hair removal is NOT permanent.  IT WILL COME BACK.  It might take a year+, but it will come back.  Trust me, I've spent literally thousands of dollars on hair removal treatment and electrolysis is the only permanent solution.  Now that I've made my point...on with my story.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For over a year, I've gone to a weekly electrolysis appointment that I dread.  It takes 6-10 treatments per hair follicle to entirely kill the hair root so it is a very slow and painful process.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to think I have a pretty high tolerance for pain and have even been known to fall asleep at these appointments, but this past week I lost it.  We finished a few areas and had moved onto my toes.  Yes, I have hair on my toes.  So do you, but probably not as thick, dark, and long as mine.  It only took 15 minutes, but they were the most painful 15 minutes of my entire life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Image sticking a needle into your toes and sending a hot electric current though it over and over and over again.  It hurt so bad I was sweating like crazy.  I literally sweated (is that even a word?) THROUGH MY JEANS.  I was swearing, trying to find my happy place, focusing on not kicking the electrologist, and tearing up. Knowing that I get to do that probably 6 more times brings tears to my eyes right now.  I mean why did God even put hair on our toes?  Long story short, I think I can handle child birth now.  The trick is to find someone interested in this hairy monster.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time you see me, please don't start checking me for hair.  It's there, it's embarrassing, it's nothing I can help and you have it too.  But if you need a good electrologist, I know of one in Seattle...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-6219748103031541220?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/6219748103031541220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=6219748103031541220&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6219748103031541220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6219748103031541220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/01/worst-15-minutes-of-my-life.html' title='Worst 15 minutes of my life.'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-2195638818082356244</id><published>2010-01-20T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T16:24:02.434-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I survived</title><content type='html'>I have not been sleeping well lately.  I’ve got way to much on the brain…going on my cruise in less then a month, moving to a new house that is approximately 3 block away from Dave Matthew’s house, my Valentine’s Day plans, etc.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was determined to go to bed early and was in bed around 11:00.  This is a good 2 hours earlier then my usually bedtime so I was on the right track.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tossed and turned and just could not sleep.  Then I started to feel it, getting worse and worse every minute.  I was in so much pain I wanted to die.  I thought perhaps I was finally getting the “Lyman stomach ache” and knowing this made it worse.  Those things last a few days and I would not make it.  My chest/stomach felt like it was going to eat me alive from the inside out.  Seriously, I was in the fetal position literally moaning as tears of pain started to well up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 1:00 am I stumbled downstairs and starting taking all sorts of things from the medicine cabinet.  2 extra strength Tylenol, 6 Tums, 2 Pepto tablets, and 1 Nyquil tablet because why not.  I made it back to my bed where I riled in pain for another 2 hours until I finally fell asleep.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up feeling exhausted, but fine.  Oh and let me tell you, that crazy little nightcap I took made for the CRAZIEST dreams ever.  So that’s why people do drugs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-2195638818082356244?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/2195638818082356244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=2195638818082356244&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2195638818082356244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2195638818082356244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-survived.html' title='I survived'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1181214841953054895</id><published>2010-01-18T11:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T11:55:04.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm in Love</title><content type='html'>I'm in love.  The Bernina store was full of crazy old ladies, but I found the one tattoo covered, gauge wearing new BFF.  We reviewed my options and quickly realized I did not need over 150 stitch options and went with this beauty:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S1S3fYoLtnI/AAAAAAAACBc/m-0aSx9RKow/s1600-h/sew.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S1S3fYoLtnI/AAAAAAAACBc/m-0aSx9RKow/s400/sew.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428165200703108722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it.  It freaking threads itself.  Ya, you read that right.  I've got all sorts of crazy plans for her.  I've started small (see below), but watch out sewing world, we're gonna do this.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S1S3ei6NxdI/AAAAAAAACBU/hj9_rqO6Aio/s1600-h/sew2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S1S3ei6NxdI/AAAAAAAACBU/hj9_rqO6Aio/s400/sew2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428165186283226578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1181214841953054895?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1181214841953054895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1181214841953054895&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1181214841953054895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1181214841953054895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-in-love.html' title='I&apos;m in Love'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/S1S3fYoLtnI/AAAAAAAACBc/m-0aSx9RKow/s72-c/sew.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-3788807986100273125</id><published>2010-01-12T17:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T17:58:04.257-08:00</updated><title type='text'>COTD</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Conversation of the day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Location: my parents house, living room, mid-day, my father on the phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad: Oh, hi so and so.  I thought you were out of town.  I was calling for your wife.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Dad, did your scandalous affair just get busted up?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-3788807986100273125?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/3788807986100273125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=3788807986100273125&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3788807986100273125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3788807986100273125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/01/cotd.html' title='COTD'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7324895588865031183</id><published>2010-01-11T00:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T07:56:21.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in Running</title><content type='html'>I ran almost everyday this week (working on my leg "gap" here people) and like everything in my life, there were a few adventures along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Example number one.  When I almost ran over a homeless person.  Yep, you read that last sentence correctly.  I was doing a quick 3 mile loop near my house, which actually lost me the roommate of the year award, but that is another story and not one for a public blog. (Even though it is hilarious...right Steph?) It was dark out and I was hauling down the hill near a dense area without a street light nearby.  I was looking down and saw a pair of legs crossing the sidewalk.  I jumped out of the way and nearly escaped the dead/passed out/sleeping person in the trees.  It scared the crap out of me and could not help but laugh that I literally almost RAN over someone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or there was my sweet Matrix move.  Again, running downhill and a pretty quick pace when I saw what I'm sure was bird poop falling down right in front of me.  I was literally about to run into it when without hesitation I pulled the sweetest Matrix, bend backwards, dodge the poop move ever.  I could not help but look around and hope that someone else saw what I had just done.  Seriously.  It was awesome.  I think I can now dodge bullets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my favorite might have been on my run Saturday.  As my Nike+ reviewed my running stats, Tiger Woods came on to congratulate me for my running my fasted recorded mile to date.  Thanks Tiger and congrats to you for making it a week without a new woman coming forward admitting an affair.  Looks like we both won this week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-7324895588865031183?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7324895588865031183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7324895588865031183&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7324895588865031183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7324895588865031183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/01/adventures-in-running.html' title='Adventures in Running'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1131830446042993249</id><published>2010-01-06T23:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T00:13:54.154-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2010 Goals</title><content type='html'>They say if you don't write them down they won't happen so in no particular order:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Not have my thighs touch.  Really.  I look at those girls who can stand and have a gap in between their legs.  I think when my thighs lived separate lives I was too young to appreciate it.  Bring it thunder thighs.  I'm gonna run the hell out of you so hold on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Find my Mr. Schuster and have him put a ring on it.  Universe, I'm throwing this out to you.  Please make it happen.  I'm about to hit that age where even my church rejects me and throws me out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Continue getting a masters degree in concert attendance.  I was told not to hide my talents and well, I'm quite good at this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Give Kellogg's less of my money.  Once upon a time I use to cook all the time (I use to also be 45 lbs heavier...hum) and most nights the Cap'n, Tony the Tiger, or that silly rabbit just don't hit the spot.  I also have a small obsession with buying cookbooks.  Let's crack into one of those, um'kay.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Love my church calling so much that I squeeze the life out of it and not the other way around.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you going to be up to in the two-oh-one-oh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1131830446042993249?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1131830446042993249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1131830446042993249&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1131830446042993249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1131830446042993249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/01/2010-goals.html' title='2010 Goals'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7458353453019662933</id><published>2010-01-06T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T23:48:22.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2009 in list form</title><content type='html'>This was really hard for me to do, but I promised a friend I would so here you go, my faves (not necessarily in their numbered order) of the last year.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Concerts:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Brandi Carlile – Cayamo - piano impromptu concerts in the lounge &lt;br /&gt;2. Brandi Carlile  - Easy Street&lt;br /&gt;3. Adele  &lt;br /&gt;4. Jay-Z&lt;br /&gt;5. New Kids On The Block (no seriously, It. Was. Awesome.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Books:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Glass Castle - Jeanette Walls&lt;br /&gt;2. The Hiding Place - Corrie ten Boom&lt;br /&gt;3. Where the Red Fern Grows - Wilson Rawls (I read it every year and EVERY time I cry like a baby)&lt;br /&gt;4. All The Pretty Horses - Cormac McCarthy (I actually did not love this book, but it made me understand men so much better)&lt;br /&gt;5. The Book of Mormon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Songs:&lt;/span&gt; (I can't pick just 5 so these are 5 random songs that were in my 25 most played songs from iTunes)&lt;br /&gt;1. Touching the Ground – Brandi Carlile&lt;br /&gt;2. You and I  - Ingrid Michaelson &lt;br /&gt;3. You Got Growing Up To Do - Joshua Radin &lt;br /&gt;4. Scar – Missy Higgins&lt;br /&gt;5. My Repair – The Noises 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Albums:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Brandi Carlile – Give Up the Ghost&lt;br /&gt;2. Joshua Radin – Simple Times&lt;br /&gt;3. The Fray - The Fray&lt;br /&gt;4. Kings of Leon – Only By the Night&lt;br /&gt;5. Ray LaMontagne – Gossip in The Grain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV Shows:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Friday Night Lights&lt;br /&gt;2. Grey’s Anatomy&lt;br /&gt;3. Cake Boss&lt;br /&gt;4. Biggest Loser&lt;br /&gt;5. Glee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Moments:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Running my first 1/2 marathon and meeting my friends and family at the end&lt;br /&gt;2. Cayamo - It's like God planned a vacation specifically for me&lt;br /&gt;3. Em's visit to Seattle.  It really could not have been more perfect&lt;br /&gt;4. Sunday night Girl Squad game nights at my house &lt;br /&gt;5. Loosing my high school best friend to a long battle of lupus. I think about you everyday T-Bird&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-7458353453019662933?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7458353453019662933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7458353453019662933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7458353453019662933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7458353453019662933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/01/2009-in-list-form.html' title='2009 in list form'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-3688225308946391666</id><published>2010-01-01T02:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T02:36:46.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>New Years always ends up being a bust for me.  I don't get totally into it, no one every really plans anything and 9 times out of 10 I end up being too tired to go out.  Well, not this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I maybe did not shower and get ready for the day until 9:00pm.  I still went out.  After the perfect day of sleeping in, homemade sour cream waffles, and Super Mario Wii until my thumbs hurt, I had to end it with a bang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ladies and I ventured out to the dance and while it was SOOOO hot that our hair was ruined within the first 2 minutes, we had a fun time.  I'm pretty sure we can make dancing with each other fun at any event.  It's not every friend that is willing to be your human poll but both ladies (and a few gentlemen) came through tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my new years kiss (thanks J.C.), fireworks, and a sing along in the car we ventured out for food only to find everything closed.  Seriously.  We had to hit up Safeway for frozen pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to learn that it's not really about what I do, but who I get to do it with.  Thanks ladies for making it a good one.  I can tell 2010 is going to be our best year yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-3688225308946391666?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/3688225308946391666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=3688225308946391666&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3688225308946391666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3688225308946391666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-873938317535980201</id><published>2009-12-13T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T18:14:16.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Las Vegas 1/2 Marathon</title><content type='html'>I took a weekend trip to Las Vegas to run another 1/2 marathon.  While both my running partners bailed on me, I was still excited to see my good friend Nate and run one more race before Christmas.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had trained, but I always still feeling a bit nervous.  On my 8 mile run the Saturday after Thanksgiving and threw up around mile 5, but felt better after that and I killed my 11 mile training run so all was well...right?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first night I got to catch up with Nate and help set up Shawn's Christmas tree and watch National Lampoons Christmas.  A holiday must.  Saturday I met up with this crazy crew at the expo, picked up my packet and started carb loading.  Saturday night my awesome father treated me to a little daddy daughter dinner.  It was fun and something I wish we did more of.  I honestly can't remember the last time I went to dinner with just my dad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyXi9e7liCI/AAAAAAAACBI/_WQsckewbS0/s1600-h/run4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyXi9e7liCI/AAAAAAAACBI/_WQsckewbS0/s400/run4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414983672885774370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning quickly came and I was out the door by 4am.  We were running up and down the strip which means that had to shut it down to traffic and since every major downtown street crosses the strip you can just image how fun parking was.  I ended up parking far away and ran to the start line as my "warm up."  Oh, did I mention IT WAS FREEZING.  Like 32 degrees and dark.  Met up with the girls and waited inside the hotel until the race started.  Walked outside, jumped in a corral and were off.  Most of the crew ran ahead as Tori and I found our pace.  Ok, I found her pace and decided I would keep up for as long as I could and fall back when I started to feel tired. I usually run an 10:50/mile and we were running around 10:00/mile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of people dressed as Elvis and quite a few bride &amp; grooms were going through the run through wedding chapel outside of the Paris hotel.  Tori was a great running partner.  She kept me going, distracted, and knew when I needed to just listen to my music and run.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun finally came out and while I warmed up, I never did get hot.  Around mile 10 I was spent.  Tori ran ahead and I slowed WAY down, but was still running.  I think I must have looked pretty tired because as I got closer to the finish line, more and more people were lining the streets and I got quite a few "you're almost there, keep going, good job."  I'll take any encouragement I can get.  Even the sympathy cheer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I crossed mile marker 12 and was on the home stretch.  I like to really take in the last mile of my run and be in the moment so I took out my headphones and thought about all my training, how a year ago I could not even run 1 mile and how I was doing it again.  I listen to the people cheering on the sides and even had a few sweet encounters with other runners encouraging everyone around them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished with a new personal record!  2:15.09 which killed my last time of 2:30.  I felt so great.  I caught up with Tori (on the left) and Jen (my awesome friend from TMO that brought all of her fun friends along) and was feeling the running high.  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyXi9LnxrlI/AAAAAAAACBA/ZL1p6Iv4d1o/s1600-h/run3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyXi9LnxrlI/AAAAAAAACBA/ZL1p6Iv4d1o/s400/run3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414983667702410834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shuffled through the food, water, and pictures while looking for my dad.  Found him at our meeting place and was glad he was there.  It meant a lot to have him there cheering me on at the end.  Support from friends and family have helped me mentally get through a lot of my hard runs.  Knowing someone is there waiting for you at the end makes all the difference.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyXi8SLhm8I/AAAAAAAACAw/jkyROcIOADI/s1600-h/run1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyXi8SLhm8I/AAAAAAAACAw/jkyROcIOADI/s400/run1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414983652283096002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I thought parking was bad for the runners, I can only image how bad it was for the spectators.  Nate and Shawn never quite made it to the strip, but we met up after for breakfast.  All I wanted was a diet coke, eggs and bacon.  Oh, and speaking of parking the craziest thing happened with my dad and I.  Who knows how many millions of parking spaces there are in Vegas between all of the hotels but we managed to somehow park at the exact same hotel, exact same level, exact same back corner.  What are the chances.  I mean really.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyXi8vX6Z0I/AAAAAAAACA4/lqGKY1dNNok/s1600-h/run2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 332px; height: 350px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyXi8vX6Z0I/AAAAAAAACA4/lqGKY1dNNok/s400/run2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414983660119680834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After breakfast I quickly showered, packed and headed to the airport to catch my afternoon flight.  It would have been nice to hit up a massage after the race, but come on.  I had a concert to get to that night. :)  Oh...just wait for my concert update.  I hope I can remember them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows, 2010 just might be the year I run a full marathon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-873938317535980201?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/873938317535980201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=873938317535980201&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/873938317535980201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/873938317535980201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/12/las-vegas-12-marathon.html' title='Las Vegas 1/2 Marathon'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyXi9e7liCI/AAAAAAAACBI/_WQsckewbS0/s72-c/run4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-6249240613968086473</id><published>2009-12-10T16:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T16:06:29.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The things we do to look good</title><content type='html'>Remember that one time I had my entire upper lip numbed which made my face swell up which made me look like I had just received collagen injections which made me laugh uncontrollably which made me look even more ridiculous since my upper lip would not move.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyGMLnt9FsI/AAAAAAAACAo/cLKA-bKydQw/s1600-h/face.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyGMLnt9FsI/AAAAAAAACAo/cLKA-bKydQw/s400/face.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413762358344226498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-6249240613968086473?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/6249240613968086473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=6249240613968086473&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6249240613968086473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6249240613968086473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/12/things-we-do-to-look-good.html' title='The things we do to look good'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SyGMLnt9FsI/AAAAAAAACAo/cLKA-bKydQw/s72-c/face.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7622750384772345043</id><published>2009-12-07T15:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T16:02:34.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekly High &amp; Low</title><content type='html'>High:&lt;br /&gt;Late night rendezvous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Low:&lt;br /&gt;Not having enough time to get together with my brothers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-7622750384772345043?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7622750384772345043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7622750384772345043&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7622750384772345043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7622750384772345043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/12/weekly-high-low.html' title='Weekly High &amp; Low'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-2187932962968546271</id><published>2009-12-01T16:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T16:46:55.844-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OCD to the Next Level</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SxW4djk2eoI/AAAAAAAACAY/eeux98olfkM/s1600/hangers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 324px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SxW4djk2eoI/AAAAAAAACAY/eeux98olfkM/s400/hangers.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410433345261042306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found the worlds most amazing hangers at Costco last weekend that have taken my OCD cleanliness to an entirely new level.  They are perfectly thin yet sturdy and their velvet coating keeps everything in place.  Seriously, I love these hangers.  I've told everyone about them and may have even picked up a box or two for friends.  $15 for 50 of the worlds perfect hangers is money well spent.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now sleep with my closet doors open just to enjoy them a little longer each day.  I sleep so much better knowing things are in order.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-2187932962968546271?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/2187932962968546271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=2187932962968546271&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2187932962968546271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2187932962968546271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/12/ocd-to-next-level.html' title='OCD to the Next Level'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SxW4djk2eoI/AAAAAAAACAY/eeux98olfkM/s72-c/hangers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1621127838849472726</id><published>2009-11-30T00:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T00:42:21.185-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekly High &amp; Low</title><content type='html'>High:&lt;br /&gt;Laughing so hard with my family that we all cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Low:&lt;br /&gt;Throwing up at mile 5 of my 8 mile run Saturday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1621127838849472726?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1621127838849472726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1621127838849472726&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1621127838849472726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1621127838849472726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/weekly-high-low_30.html' title='Weekly High &amp; Low'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1123240534212350621</id><published>2009-11-25T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T13:19:19.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brandi at Easy Street</title><content type='html'>Brandi was playing at &lt;a href="http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2008/05/easy-street.html"&gt;Easy Street&lt;/a&gt;, my favorite local record store, to a PACKED house.  We were towards the front and had a perfect view.  You could tell the band was having a great time and really were glad to be there.  They were harassing each other and during one song where Phil whistles, Brandi kept making faces at him making him laugh.  It was like we were getting a sneak peek into what it's like when they play around the house.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't usually stay after because I have a few pictures with Brandi and I never know what to say.  Although this time I had come prepared with a picture for her to sign (this was the gift I was so excited about) and after waiting in line for over an hour I walked up to the table and slid my picture across the table.  It went a little something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: Thanks for playing tonight.  Would you mind signing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Brandi&lt;/span&gt;: Sure, is this a tape machine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: Yes.  It's our favorite part on the entire album.  2:44 on Bend Before it Breaks.  Do you know what part it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Brandi&lt;/span&gt;: Ya.  I think so.  Is it when the guitars come in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: Close.  It's actually the part where you belt it out, but are not right in the mic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Brandi&lt;/span&gt;: Oh ya.  Where I go "Ohhhhhhh" (This is where I almost lost my cool.  I'm mean she was singing the part right to us.) This is so cool.  I sang that part into the piano mic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: It's amazing.  I found this picture and had my friend edit the time to be 2:44.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Brandi&lt;/span&gt;:  I love it.  I have to tell the twins about this. (They were behind her signing autographs and she brought them over.) Guys, check this out.  Its our tape machine and she changed the time to be 2:44 from Bend Before it Breaks.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Twins, mainly Tim&lt;/span&gt;:  This is awesome.  Is that where the guitars come in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: It's the part where Brandi belts away in the background.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Twins&lt;/span&gt;: So cool.  Wow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;: Does this make me a crazy stalker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Tim acting all silly&lt;/span&gt;: Ya, totally.  Keep walking lady.  No way, this is awesome.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;:  Well, thanks for signing it and thanks for doing what you do.  I'm a huge fan.  Can't wait to see you all on the cruise again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Brandi&lt;/span&gt;: Oh, it will be so much fun.  I'm bringing the whole family with me this time.  Thanks for sharing this with us. &lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I then proceeded to walk over to the twins spot to get their signatures as well.  They complimented the cool picture and I had to confess that I had found it on their website and "borrowed" it.  They laughed pretty hard.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....maybe it makes me a crazy fan now that I'm blogging the entire conversation, but it was a great moment that I want to remember.  I walked away impressed by how "normal" I was able to stay and how genuine our conversation was.  It was kind of awesome!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/Sw2e4OS21yI/AAAAAAAACAQ/GONCvWVFp2Q/s1600/em.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 319px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/Sw2e4OS21yI/AAAAAAAACAQ/GONCvWVFp2Q/s400/em.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408153416288884514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1123240534212350621?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1123240534212350621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1123240534212350621&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1123240534212350621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1123240534212350621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/brandi-at-easy-street.html' title='Brandi at Easy Street'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/Sw2e4OS21yI/AAAAAAAACAQ/GONCvWVFp2Q/s72-c/em.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1463552232081310074</id><published>2009-11-24T23:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T23:52:07.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm So Excited</title><content type='html'>Today kind of feels like Christmas Eve.  Have you ever found that PERFECT gift for someone and been more excited to give it then they probably ever will be to have it.  Tonight is that night.  She should get it tomorrow in the mail.  I can't wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1463552232081310074?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1463552232081310074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1463552232081310074&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1463552232081310074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1463552232081310074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-so-excited.html' title='I&apos;m So Excited'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-310610641304801586</id><published>2009-11-23T19:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T19:08:14.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>COTD</title><content type='html'>Me: Seriously craving &lt;a href="http://www.ddir.com/Dicks_Drive_In_Restaurants/About_Us.html"&gt;Dick's&lt;/a&gt; fries...RIGHT NOW.  Who's in? &lt;br /&gt;E: Dude, Dick's fries. Name fail.&lt;br /&gt;Me: They are sooooo good.  It's like our local In-N-Out Burger...Talk about name fail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-310610641304801586?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/310610641304801586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=310610641304801586&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/310610641304801586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/310610641304801586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/cotd.html' title='COTD'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-440370053789631277</id><published>2009-11-22T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T16:04:34.317-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekly High &amp; Low</title><content type='html'>High:&lt;br /&gt;It's a tie with the Brandi Carlile concert and feeling great after my 11 mile run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Low:&lt;br /&gt;My lack of sleep.  For some reason my little brain will not shut off before 2:00 am each night this week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-440370053789631277?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/440370053789631277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=440370053789631277&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/440370053789631277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/440370053789631277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/weekly-high-low_22.html' title='Weekly High &amp; Low'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7476900422201570888</id><published>2009-11-21T21:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T21:47:30.787-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>- Slept in&lt;br /&gt;- Ran 11 miles&lt;br /&gt;- Costco&lt;br /&gt;- Target&lt;br /&gt;- In bed by 9:30 watching a little Tim Riggins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Heart Today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-7476900422201570888?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7476900422201570888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7476900422201570888&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7476900422201570888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7476900422201570888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-690733271788849494</id><published>2009-11-20T16:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T16:08:15.207-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Double Take</title><content type='html'>So I'm in love...with a fictional character.  Mr. Schuester (Matthew Morrison), from Glee, has the sweetest dance moves and amazing voice that have won me over.  I mean, have you seen his version of &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVTeYzR_uoU"&gt;Bust A Move&lt;/a&gt; or how about when he sang, "This Is How We Do It."  It's hard to find someone else that knows the words to that song.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I was walking around at work and had to do a literal double take.  Apparently we have hired someone that looks exactly like Finn (Cory Montheith).  While it's not Mr. Schuester, I like to think it's one step closer.  Maybe next week, work Finn and I will bust out in song and dance...or maybe my love will change from Mr. Schuester to Finn.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-690733271788849494?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/690733271788849494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=690733271788849494&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/690733271788849494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/690733271788849494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/double-take.html' title='Double Take'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-9093143934210122113</id><published>2009-11-19T23:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T23:48:57.471-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Annie Hall</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SwZJXbNrI-I/AAAAAAAAB_0/R3-mzu_6U0o/s1600/annie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SwZJXbNrI-I/AAAAAAAAB_0/R3-mzu_6U0o/s320/annie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406089069495788514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in college I worked on campus and met one of the craziest and happiest people I have ever know.  My first interaction with her was as she was relentlessly flirting with the nerdy boy that worked there as well.  He was clearly very interested in her and what girl does not like a little attention.  We had a great time at work and ended up living together for a few years and man what a great couple of years they were.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was that one summer of "cousins" where there was a lot of love happening, or the summer nights in the hammock laughing until it hurt.  Lots of Formosa and even more diet coke.  Many crazy roommates and a few nights of tears.  I taught Annie how to flirt and she taught me how to love.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even to this day I can't think about or talk to her without a huge grin on my face.  She knows me better then a lot of people and it's because she took the time to invest in me.  I like to think I'm all mysterious, but really I'm quite predictable. Case in point, today we were talking and Annie was reiterating a conversation she had in her head as she was trying to figure things out with a guy.  She thought, Lindsay would just call them out.  No, wait.  She would make out with them and then call them out.  I could not stop laughing at this.  Sad and yet fairly accurate.  (Don't think less of me Mom.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday sweet lady.  Thanks for ALWAYS keeping me laughing and smiling.  Thanks for all of the great memories and thanks for always being my friend.  I heart you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-9093143934210122113?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/9093143934210122113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=9093143934210122113&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/9093143934210122113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/9093143934210122113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/annie-hall.html' title='Annie Hall'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SwZJXbNrI-I/AAAAAAAAB_0/R3-mzu_6U0o/s72-c/annie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7667962664181223779</id><published>2009-11-18T23:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T01:39:37.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Texter</title><content type='html'>Tonight I was called the worst texter in the world and well, it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree texting is quite handy for quick messages, small chats during work, telling someone something short without having a b.s. conversation first, etc.  What I don't do is have text conversations.  Call me old fashion, but if you want to talk to me, call me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can go hours without replying or my new favorite response to one of my text happy friends is to call them right after they text me.  99% of the time they don't answer even though I know the phone is in their hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, I am proudly the worlds worst texter.  Just call me, I'm worth the extra effort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-7667962664181223779?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7667962664181223779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7667962664181223779&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7667962664181223779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7667962664181223779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/texter.html' title='Texter'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-8099462501731883438</id><published>2009-11-17T23:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T23:55:10.972-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Honker</title><content type='html'>I'm a honker.  Your car has a horn for a reason here people.  Why not use it when necessary.  I've even been know to honk other peoples horns when they are driving.  Really it's just to help teach them when it is and is not appropriate to honk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was merging onto the freeway in morning rush hour traffic when some D-Bag decides he needs to speed up and pass 2 more cars even though his lane had ended because you know, 2 cars length is really going to make a difference.  I laid on my horn as he ends up cutting in front of me only after I slam on my breaks so he did not hit the side of the tunnel we were heading into.  I keep honking and honking (come on, we were in a tunnel, it was fun), but my horn quickly looses its umph and starts slowing lowering an octave at a time.  I let off the horn as embarrassment and defeat sets in.  You can't really say "screw you" when a wimpy horn.  I was more upset about my lame sounding horn then the guy that cut me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like I need to get that fixed ASAP.  I've got lots more honking to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-8099462501731883438?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/8099462501731883438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=8099462501731883438&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8099462501731883438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/8099462501731883438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/honker.html' title='Honker'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-2694119223463085384</id><published>2009-11-16T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T00:04:57.337-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Musical Memories</title><content type='html'>Ever hear a song that immediately takes you back to a moment in time?  I do all the time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Pandora streamed Ode To My Family by the Cranberries and I could not stop laughing.  This songs reminds me of the huge ice storm Spokane had one winter.  School was canceled, no one had electricity, and as a teenager I could not have loved it more.  I remember driving around town in my dad's Ford Explorer listening to this song.  It was so creepy at night because there was not a single light on, not even the street lamps.  Everything had this natural glow from the snow, but things seemed so lifeless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was also the time my best friend and I went through the "do we like each other or are we just good friends" stage.  People always assumed we were dating and we both laughed at the scandal we could create at church events, but really we were just buddies.  Until one night.  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SwJY4JZ7otI/AAAAAAAAB_s/O-ffl5CziWA/s1600/j.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SwJY4JZ7otI/AAAAAAAAB_s/O-ffl5CziWA/s320/j.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404980224418620114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was not long after the snow storm and we were in John's basement watching Dirty Dancing. (Dreamy, I know!) He was making his move and I knew as soon as the movie was over it was the night that might change our friendship.  John made his move and...well...it was not good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I think our conversation went a little something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Me: So, um we made out last night.&lt;br /&gt;John: Yep.&lt;br /&gt;Me: How do you feel about that?&lt;br /&gt;John: I'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;Me: While I had fun, I have to be honest.  I was not totally feeling it.  &lt;br /&gt;John: Oh good. Me neither.  But we had to try.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yep, and now we know.  Still friends?&lt;br /&gt;John: Friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;And that was that.  Lucky for me, we did stay just as good of friends.  Some of my best high school memories are with John and he was always the best date.  He was hot, sober, and could shake it all night long with me and not expect anything at the end of the night.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this day, we still laugh about this night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-2694119223463085384?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/2694119223463085384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=2694119223463085384&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2694119223463085384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2694119223463085384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/musical-memories.html' title='Musical Memories'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SwJY4JZ7otI/AAAAAAAAB_s/O-ffl5CziWA/s72-c/j.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-6957900556588085985</id><published>2009-11-15T23:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T01:40:11.848-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekly High &amp; Low</title><content type='html'>One of the great people I know has a daily high,low conversation/text/twitter, etc.  This weeks High &amp; Low are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High:&lt;br /&gt;Watching a high school production of Bye Bye Birdie with Josh while he pouts that I don't want to make out with him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Low:&lt;br /&gt;Breaking down last Sunday in a "life kicked the s*!t out of me and I'm not dealing with it" kind of way.  It's been a good 2 years since this has happened, but I'm fine now thanks to great friends that picked me up, held my hand and kicked me back out the door.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-6957900556588085985?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/6957900556588085985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=6957900556588085985&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6957900556588085985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6957900556588085985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/weekly-high-low.html' title='Weekly High &amp; Low'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1888623902883184062</id><published>2009-11-14T00:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T00:35:47.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who needs a real boyfriend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/Sv5rz-HdPgI/AAAAAAAAB_k/hIuu6s0SeqQ/s1600-h/car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/Sv5rz-HdPgI/AAAAAAAAB_k/hIuu6s0SeqQ/s320/car.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403875143482949122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I left Seattle for a weekend in Spokane only to drive 30 miles an hour for over 3 hours.  Yes, it took me over 3 hours to just make it to Ellensburg.  Ugh!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled into my favorite Chevron and started to fill up when a car full of cute (and probably WAY to young) boys pulled up in front of me.  We chatted, I batted my eyelashes at them (which are abnormally long because they are fake, but work like a charm) and before I knew it they were over washing all my windows.  Such service.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went inside to get my well deserved 32oz. Diet Coke and my friends quickly followed.  I was browsing the candy isle as they were about ready to pay and one of them ran over to me and said a girl like me should not buy her own drinks.  I could not agree more.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who needs a real boyfriend when there is Chevron love to be had.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1888623902883184062?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1888623902883184062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1888623902883184062&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1888623902883184062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1888623902883184062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/who-needs-real-boyfriend.html' title='Who needs a real boyfriend'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/Sv5rz-HdPgI/AAAAAAAAB_k/hIuu6s0SeqQ/s72-c/car.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7650526445144915655</id><published>2009-11-10T17:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T17:28:08.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A not so Fine Fenzy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvnoRDvK4vI/AAAAAAAAB_U/eoT7_WDNq54/s1600-h/FF.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvnoRDvK4vI/AAAAAAAAB_U/eoT7_WDNq54/s400/FF.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402604607766192882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We somehow ended up at the very front of the stage for the Fine Frenzy concert and about 4 songs into it Steph and I were planning our escape route.  She did not sound good live, was acting out her songs a little to hard, and the things Tiff C. told me about her pretty much sealed the deal on the night.  While I enjoyed a few of the songs and generally enjoy listening to her records, I found it hard to watch.  She's just not the best live performer.  Even her band seemed board and when she finally got the crowed going at the end, she ripped the energy out of the room with some slow song no one knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The company could not have been better, but I don't think I need to see A Fine Frenzy in concert again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvoS87tHW8I/AAAAAAAAB_c/RtwZBpSj_hk/s1600-h/ff.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvoS87tHW8I/AAAAAAAAB_c/RtwZBpSj_hk/s400/ff.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402651541012700098" 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/36523695-7650526445144915655?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7650526445144915655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7650526445144915655&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7650526445144915655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7650526445144915655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/not-so-fine-fenzy.html' title='A not so Fine Fenzy'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvnoRDvK4vI/AAAAAAAAB_U/eoT7_WDNq54/s72-c/FF.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5912930458592431954</id><published>2009-11-07T09:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T10:09:58.734-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Em Dogg</title><content type='html'>Remember how I don't miss Utah, but I REALLY miss some of the people.  Well this crazy lady happens to be at the top of that list.  Steph and I have been trying for months to get Em to Seattle and a few weekends ago it finally happened. You see, she likes Brandi Carlile (perhaps even more the Steph and I) and the original plan included seeing her perform 3 times.  Em, that's cool that it took BCB to get you to Seattle.  We don't take it personal. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left the airport, made a pit stop by the water and laughed at breakfast until we made Em spit Diet Coke all over the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdmxu8RhI/AAAAAAAAB-s/i0DRRhBsxxI/s1600-h/em5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdmxu8RhI/AAAAAAAAB-s/i0DRRhBsxxI/s400/em5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400904036402349586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As part of Em in Seattle, we needed to show her all the great sights and started with Gas Works Park as pictured here.  As we were leaving, a group of people were walking towards us and I recognized one of them so in true fashion I walked up to the "stranger" and said, "This might sound weird, but aren't you Katie Herzig's sister?" Her response, "Yes and I've read your blog."  Jenny was on the cruise last year and was in town for her sisters last show with Brandi.  What a genuinely nice girl.  We chatted for a bit and wisher her and her sister good luck at the show.  Those Herzig's seem like good people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdlSGHfmI/AAAAAAAAB-M/mGF6wZBXbdU/s1600-h/em1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdlSGHfmI/AAAAAAAAB-M/mGF6wZBXbdU/s400/em1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400904010729750114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After Gas Works, we made a necessary pit stop at Top Pot Doughnut where Em taught us the proper way to ensure a good high 5.  The trick is to look at each others elbows.  Don't believe me, try it right now....see works every time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Headed to Pikes Market and guess who we ran into this time?  We were walking down Post Alley when again we saw Jenny, and Katie and her band.  Since I tent to think out loud I guess Katie her me say her name as I passed and stopped to chat with me for a bit.  I told her what a great job she did in Portland, that we would be cheering for her at the show tonight and that I was a big fan.  I then had to reassure her we were not crazy stalkers since we ran into her sister earlier in the day.  Like her sister Jenny (hey, if you are readying this) Katie was a nice person.  You know how you can just tell that some people are good people through and through?  Well those Herzig girls seem that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdl25qxZI/AAAAAAAAB-U/UyWpRUDVRbk/s1600-h/em2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdl25qxZI/AAAAAAAAB-U/UyWpRUDVRbk/s400/em2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400904020609648018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh, did I mention Em is my bird buddy. See reference &lt;a href="http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/04/blackest-boots.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2008/01/its-my-party-and-ill-cry-if-i-want-to.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; :)  She taught us the new "flip off" is "the point" and I think by the end of the trip we had mastered it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdmG_vbhI/AAAAAAAAB-c/YEBHDwyLUrM/s1600-h/em3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdmG_vbhI/AAAAAAAAB-c/YEBHDwyLUrM/s400/em3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400904024930086418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And then came Brandi Carlile and her sweet band.  What a show and even better to be able to enjoy it with another huge fan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPducM_9JI/AAAAAAAAB-0/aghhZS8pQGI/s1600-h/em6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPducM_9JI/AAAAAAAAB-0/aghhZS8pQGI/s400/em6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400904168061793426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Brandi Carlile.  Thanks for always bringing it.  Thanks for rocking out, keeping me in awe and for doing what you do with so much energy.  Let's concert together again.  Say January in Spokane, February on the cruise and March in Seattle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdvf9hZFI/AAAAAAAAB_M/aox_xLg9Stk/s1600-h/bcseattle2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdvf9hZFI/AAAAAAAAB_M/aox_xLg9Stk/s400/bcseattle2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400904186250486866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Katie Herzig opened and as usual did great.  I also think the Seattle crowd was more into her songs then the Portland crowd.  One of my favorite songs of the night was one Katie and Brandi sang together, Wish You Well.  Remember how I think when we die and go to Heaven, every night is a big concert.  Well, I think this song might be on the set list. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdvNGf9sI/AAAAAAAAB_E/X7SUiRHzSVo/s1600-h/bcseattle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdvNGf9sI/AAAAAAAAB_E/X7SUiRHzSVo/s400/bcseattle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400904181187868354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I also got to enjoy the show this these lovely ladies!  I heart them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdu1iV_QI/AAAAAAAAB-8/soDkhFVMb0s/s1600-h/em7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdu1iV_QI/AAAAAAAAB-8/soDkhFVMb0s/s400/em7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400904174862204162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Em - Thanks for coming to visit.  Thanks for keeping me cool.  Thanks for laughing along the way.  Thanks for understanding and getting it.  Thanks for being honest.  Thanks for sharing your love of BCB.  Thanks for being awesome. And mostly, thanks for being you.  Can't wait to rock the cruise with ya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdmpqlSGI/AAAAAAAAB-k/PHn9hsyOt7I/s1600-h/em4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdmpqlSGI/AAAAAAAAB-k/PHn9hsyOt7I/s400/em4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400904034236581986" 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/36523695-5912930458592431954?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5912930458592431954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5912930458592431954&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5912930458592431954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5912930458592431954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/em-dogg.html' title='Em Dogg'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdmxu8RhI/AAAAAAAAB-s/i0DRRhBsxxI/s72-c/em5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-4397775835815816551</id><published>2009-11-06T11:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T15:04:21.078-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Will, the new CTR</title><content type='html'>We took a 1/2 day and headed to Portland to see our favorite singer Brandi Carlile.  We parked and found the greatest little park in the middle of downtown and spent a good hour there doing our own photo shoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a restaurant close to the venue and while the food tasted great, we were extremely confused by the menu because everything was turkey and not one chicken option.  Cesar salad with turkey, turkey burger, etc. Strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdXcKUpfI/AAAAAAAAB-E/zDpLrYnXtRo/s1600-h/bport1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdXcKUpfI/AAAAAAAAB-E/zDpLrYnXtRo/s400/bport1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903772913575410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie Herzig, who we found on our cruise last year, opened and sounded great.  Love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdXFqBG-I/AAAAAAAAB98/A9Q5v6R2wPY/s1600-h/bport2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdXFqBG-I/AAAAAAAAB98/A9Q5v6R2wPY/s400/bport2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903766872497122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then it was time for the show.  We were so excited.  You would have thought we had never seen Brandi Carlile in concert before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdWhmI11I/AAAAAAAAB90/u74Hh54AWcA/s1600-h/bport4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdWhmI11I/AAAAAAAAB90/u74Hh54AWcA/s400/bport4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903757192550226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The band came out and started by singing around one mic.  Pretty fun to hear the drummer and cello player singing with the rest of them.  She played my new favorite songs I Will and Touching The Ground and did NOT disappoint. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdWA5OtiI/AAAAAAAAB9s/E3q1PiR-0Jw/s1600-h/bport5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdWA5OtiI/AAAAAAAAB9s/E3q1PiR-0Jw/s400/bport5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903748414256674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left on a Brandi high excited to see her perform 2 days later. :)  I don't think I will ever get sick of seeing this band live.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-4397775835815816551?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/4397775835815816551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=4397775835815816551&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4397775835815816551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4397775835815816551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-will-new-ctr.html' title='I Will, the new CTR'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdXcKUpfI/AAAAAAAAB-E/zDpLrYnXtRo/s72-c/bport1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5802569320991234437</id><published>2009-11-06T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T15:05:38.714-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock this B</title><content type='html'>Thanks to my concert going reputation some great gals invited me to see Ben Folds with the Seattle Symphony and it was great.  After a brisk walk around downtown and a quick bite to eat we were set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPcropfAfI/AAAAAAAAB80/0F9m9rbsDxM/s1600-h/benf2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPcropfAfI/AAAAAAAAB80/0F9m9rbsDxM/s400/benf2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903020351259122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While they all sounded great, I have to admit my favorite part was the second encore where Ben came on stage without the symphony and rocked out in his quirky fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPcrH38FtI/AAAAAAAAB8s/ooLK_XyBYnI/s1600-h/benf3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPcrH38FtI/AAAAAAAAB8s/ooLK_XyBYnI/s400/benf3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903011553515218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I taught Jen the best way to meet a perform was by staking out their tour bus like a crazy stalker.  Works every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPcqrDAc1I/AAAAAAAAB8k/iHxEr7Lg94E/s1600-h/benf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPcqrDAc1I/AAAAAAAAB8k/iHxEr7Lg94E/s400/benf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903003815310162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as a bonus I got the chance to catch up with this amazing girl.  Who knew after being friends in college we would end up in the same place again.  Cassie I heart ya!  Let's be friends more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5802569320991234437?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5802569320991234437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5802569320991234437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5802569320991234437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5802569320991234437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/rock-this-b.html' title='Rock this B'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPcropfAfI/AAAAAAAAB80/0F9m9rbsDxM/s72-c/benf2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1778380967392274003</id><published>2009-11-06T00:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T00:40:15.165-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain Dump</title><content type='html'>My favorite phone call of the day came from Steph.  She was up in her room and I was down in the TV room.  She called me to ask if I was eating peanut butter.  My answer, nope I think you are just crazy. End of phone call. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a freak thunder and rain storm tonight.  We never get thunder!  Max freaked out and ran under the bed until I sang him Raindrops on Roses.  This is a true story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been working on increasing my daily exercise and my body hurts in places I won't talk about on the internet.  It's very weird and hard to publicly complain about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at work I was late for a conference call because I was buying more Brandi Carlile concert tickets.  Good thing my client gets this part of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been listening to Christmas music nonstop since November 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at Costco I found my soul mate.  We both pulled into neighboring parking stalls at the same time.  I stayed in the car to finish my conversation while he went in.  15 minutes late I was getting out of my car only to find him walking back to his car with nothing but a soda cup.  He went to Costco for dinner.  I love him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1778380967392274003?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1778380967392274003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1778380967392274003&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1778380967392274003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1778380967392274003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/brain-dump.html' title='Brain Dump'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-4682932514266347937</id><published>2009-11-06T00:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T00:34:48.080-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Got Growing Up To Do</title><content type='html'>I was excited to see Joshua Radin and hear his sweet whisper rock tunes.  Fun show, but it was so freaking hot and at one point I had to regulate to keep the tall people away from Nissa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdIOvEDRI/AAAAAAAAB9c/065B4dbfzIg/s1600-h/JR1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdIOvEDRI/AAAAAAAAB9c/065B4dbfzIg/s400/JR1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903511611542802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told the funniest story about wedding registries and how the single people should get a gift for going.  Great show and man is he dreamy.  Then for his encoure he came out into the audience (and as you can see in the picture, right up to us) and sang my favorite song, Don't Think Twice It's Alright.  Ahh...I think it's love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdIeyeJwI/AAAAAAAAB9k/Fsxv0MGgFvI/s1600-h/jr2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdIeyeJwI/AAAAAAAAB9k/Fsxv0MGgFvI/s400/jr2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903515920803586" 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/36523695-4682932514266347937?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/4682932514266347937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=4682932514266347937&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4682932514266347937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4682932514266347937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-go-growing-up-to-do.html' title='You Got Growing Up To Do'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdIOvEDRI/AAAAAAAAB9c/065B4dbfzIg/s72-c/JR1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-4736639146646281067</id><published>2009-11-06T00:22:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T10:10:13.169-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love, Love, Me</title><content type='html'>It was a cold and rainy weekday night, but we ventured out for a night of fun with Mika.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdAMu0lAI/AAAAAAAAB9U/MRAtE0OLAfY/s1600-h/mika2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdAMu0lAI/AAAAAAAAB9U/MRAtE0OLAfY/s400/mika2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903373634704386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This man never dissapoints.  He's a bit crazy and the crowed was just as entertaining as he was, but another great concert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPc_kafeGI/AAAAAAAAB9M/M7I5N1Cx_v4/s1600-h/mika.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPc_kafeGI/AAAAAAAAB9M/M7I5N1Cx_v4/s400/mika.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903362812016738" 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/36523695-4736639146646281067?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/4736639146646281067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=4736639146646281067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4736639146646281067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/4736639146646281067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-love-me.html' title='Love, Love, Me'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPdAMu0lAI/AAAAAAAAB9U/MRAtE0OLAfY/s72-c/mika2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-2565315351128493133</id><published>2009-11-06T00:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T10:10:20.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Take Me Home</title><content type='html'>We've had a lot of great times together over the past few months and this night was no exception.  Marc Broussard at a sold out show at the Tractor Tavern = awesomeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPc1uFFQRI/AAAAAAAAB9E/uxrcc_jH9MI/s1600-h/marc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPc1uFFQRI/AAAAAAAAB9E/uxrcc_jH9MI/s400/marc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903193607880978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Susan, I'm glad you got my Diet Coke in the shot!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marc, you never dissapoint however your random DJ and dancing inbetween songs to your iPod were a bit odd.  Oh and let's talk about the crowd that night.  We were deffinatly some of the youngest people there and when he finished his set and walked off stage, people started to leave or just stood there.  No one was really cheering or clapping to get him to encore.   It took a good 5 minutes before some guy up front got the crowd to cheer and bring Marc back out.  How embarrassing for everyone involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPc1Xk2M7I/AAAAAAAAB88/cKmQErCaKXQ/s1600-h/mb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPc1Xk2M7I/AAAAAAAAB88/cKmQErCaKXQ/s400/mb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400903187567096754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And remember how I have a crush on&lt;a href="http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/search?q=cayamo"&gt; his brother&lt;/a&gt;.  Ya, he was there as well.  I'm pretty sure he felt the love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-2565315351128493133?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/2565315351128493133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=2565315351128493133&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2565315351128493133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/2565315351128493133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/take-me-home.html' title='Take Me Home'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPc1uFFQRI/AAAAAAAAB9E/uxrcc_jH9MI/s72-c/marc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7963709048344597416</id><published>2009-11-05T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T23:14:27.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ingrid Michaelson</title><content type='html'>Ingrid seems a little tired and not totally into the show, but I still loved it.  She really is quite entertaining and is great at interacting with the audience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1d580mGcI/AAAAAAAAB7s/jKxRvh9ZbA4/s1600-h/ingrid4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 390px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1d580mGcI/AAAAAAAAB7s/jKxRvh9ZbA4/s400/ingrid4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394571178820377026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has this thing where people bring her cookies, cupcakes etc. to shows and someone gave her a Cupcake Royale cupcake.  They are advertising their recipe change with a "more moistier" sticker on the container and boy did she have fun with that one.  It became a running theme throughout the night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1d34v3dKI/AAAAAAAAB7c/Ss8utjohdoc/s1600-h/ingrid2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1d34v3dKI/AAAAAAAAB7c/Ss8utjohdoc/s400/ingrid2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394571143367062690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another fun show. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1d3Bo049I/AAAAAAAAB7U/4P-75DbgHf4/s1600-h/ingrid1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 336px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1d3Bo049I/AAAAAAAAB7U/4P-75DbgHf4/s400/ingrid1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394571128573584338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-7963709048344597416?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7963709048344597416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7963709048344597416&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7963709048344597416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7963709048344597416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/ingrid-michaelson.html' title='Ingrid Michaelson'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1d580mGcI/AAAAAAAAB7s/jKxRvh9ZbA4/s72-c/ingrid4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-7798093503547571753</id><published>2009-11-05T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T23:13:47.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jay-Z</title><content type='html'>Jay-Z rocked it.  SO FUN LIVE.  We danced the entire time, became friends with the drunk boys around us and were hit on more then we have been in years.  That's what I call a great concert. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1eEs7BwZI/AAAAAAAAB70/4hH1QXWn920/s1600-h/jayz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1eEs7BwZI/AAAAAAAAB70/4hH1QXWn920/s400/jayz.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394571363530949010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My one complaint from the night was when Jay-Z went around the entire arena saying "I see you...there in the red shirt, there with the black hat on...etc."  This went on for 20 minutes.  We get it.  You can see us.  Thanks now back to the music.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1eFWry2fI/AAAAAAAAB78/7u9TlfttYbs/s1600-h/jayz1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1eFWry2fI/AAAAAAAAB78/7u9TlfttYbs/s400/jayz1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394571374741346802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-7798093503547571753?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/7798093503547571753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=7798093503547571753&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7798093503547571753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/7798093503547571753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/jay-z.html' title='Jay-Z'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1eEs7BwZI/AAAAAAAAB70/4hH1QXWn920/s72-c/jayz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-9141575111608650480</id><published>2009-11-05T23:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T23:11:08.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Munchkins</title><content type='html'>This little girl was turning 2 so I spent the weekend celebrating with her in Huntington Beach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1fbmiRfJI/AAAAAAAAB8E/pwKv3D2r9K8/s1600-h/moore1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1fbmiRfJI/AAAAAAAAB8E/pwKv3D2r9K8/s400/moore1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394572856465128594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ikeman and I had lots of fun playing outside and talking about Star Wars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1fc53cwaI/AAAAAAAAB8U/ygfCQjADSh0/s1600-h/moore3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1fc53cwaI/AAAAAAAAB8U/ygfCQjADSh0/s400/moore3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394572878834090402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1fcNVn-ZI/AAAAAAAAB8M/5PkmH1nCtQk/s1600-h/moore2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1fcNVn-ZI/AAAAAAAAB8M/5PkmH1nCtQk/s400/moore2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394572866881059218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Build a bear was a hit for her Birthday.  Well, there were a few meltdowns, but that is to be expected.  It's always great to see the little ones and their parents.  Now I need to make it out to New York to see the other half. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPLPJJUtcI/AAAAAAAAB8c/jIvpMwLvvpM/s1600-h/build+a+bear+i+and+m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SvPLPJJUtcI/AAAAAAAAB8c/jIvpMwLvvpM/s400/build+a+bear+i+and+m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400883839160858050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-9141575111608650480?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/9141575111608650480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=9141575111608650480&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/9141575111608650480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/9141575111608650480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/11/little-munchkins.html' title='Little Munchkins'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1fbmiRfJI/AAAAAAAAB8E/pwKv3D2r9K8/s72-c/moore1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1783321548041390802</id><published>2009-10-28T00:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T00:47:05.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>B-Days</title><content type='html'>I love that we all have Birthdays within one week of each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1bhu-syGI/AAAAAAAAB68/hsj3YVKX4Xk/s1600-h/bday5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1bhu-syGI/AAAAAAAAB68/hsj3YVKX4Xk/s400/bday5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394568563764545634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year we ate lots of tasty food, drank plenty of Diet Coke and enjoyed butt heated scotcheroos while watching the worst dance remake ever, Fame.  Oh, and who could forget the post movie entertainment of Susan driving like a mad woman so we could get a better look at the crazy people in some Flinstones type contraption through the U district. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1bgWirmAI/AAAAAAAAB6s/sUoHKttEt9A/s1600-h/bday3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1bgWirmAI/AAAAAAAAB6s/sUoHKttEt9A/s400/bday3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394568540024707074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my actual birthday I had dinner with my two favorite brothers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1bf-wzhUI/AAAAAAAAB6k/zbR6jshlIS0/s1600-h/bday2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 386px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1bf-wzhUI/AAAAAAAAB6k/zbR6jshlIS0/s400/bday2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394568533641495874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The the bumpit and feet detox kit were a hit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1bfA00EWI/AAAAAAAAB6c/8CNt5zT-l5U/s1600-h/bday1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 336px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1bfA00EWI/AAAAAAAAB6c/8CNt5zT-l5U/s400/bday1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394568517015310690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next birthday is a big one for me.  I had better start planning my party now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1783321548041390802?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1783321548041390802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1783321548041390802&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1783321548041390802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1783321548041390802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/10/b-days.html' title='B-Days'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1bhu-syGI/AAAAAAAAB68/hsj3YVKX4Xk/s72-c/bday5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-5162969400815403149</id><published>2009-10-28T00:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T00:38:51.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Concert Heaven</title><content type='html'>Remember how I have been checking the Lilith Fair website almost everyday and remember how today they FINALLY announced some of the cities it will be going to in 2010 and remember how THEY ARE COMING TO SEATTLE!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People ask what my dream job is and it would be to work for Lilith Fair in some capacity.  Maybe I can go and work my magic to get an in for the 2011 tour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-5162969400815403149?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/5162969400815403149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=5162969400815403149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5162969400815403149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/5162969400815403149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/10/concert-heaven.html' title='Concert Heaven'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-3166776679927682141</id><published>2009-10-27T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T16:55:46.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Puyallup Fair</title><content type='html'>Remember how I'm a MONTH behind in blogging...um...ya me to so hold on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1cR4VgYmI/AAAAAAAAB7M/QfTfGensjjY/s1600-h/fain2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1cR4VgYmI/AAAAAAAAB7M/QfTfGensjjY/s400/fain2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394569390909842018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;went to the Puyallup Fair.  My main goal, eat crap food and specifically an elephant ear. (Which IS VERY different from a funnel cake)  After starting out with a bang in the form of fried corn dogs, french fries and a diet coke we headed into the pavilion to see what crap they were selling and what demos we could catch.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First stop, this "weight loss" machine.  You stood on it and it shakes the crap out of you.  Not sure how successful this would be since your feet go numb and your heart rate never increases, but perhaps it works because the feeling you have after your body uncontrollably shakes and continues to rumble as the machine stops makes you never want to eat again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsRGmM9l38I/AAAAAAAAB6E/jzaY20e_B-I/s1600-h/fair2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsRGmM9l38I/AAAAAAAAB6E/jzaY20e_B-I/s400/fair2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387508676370489282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other favorite gimmick, this handwriting analysis machine.  It feels like a switch board from Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.  We live in a time of advanced technology and this was the best they could come up with.  Weak. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsRGskKKtKI/AAAAAAAAB6M/3jHtVExnTf4/s1600-h/2009-09-19+18.48.36.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsRGskKKtKI/AAAAAAAAB6M/3jHtVExnTf4/s400/2009-09-19+18.48.36.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387508785676465314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ate a scone and elephant ear before heading into the barn.  No trip to the fair is complete without seeing the stinky animals.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsRGlnOFULI/AAAAAAAAB58/bXISlvn_cNk/s1600-h/fair3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsRGlnOFULI/AAAAAAAAB58/bXISlvn_cNk/s400/fair3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387508666239111346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before heading home, we got henna tattoos, old school photo booth pictures and the worlds largest stomachache from eating nothing but fried food.  Success! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1cRB9gpgI/AAAAAAAAB7E/gFS6cJMXUjQ/s1600-h/fair1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 312px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1cRB9gpgI/AAAAAAAAB7E/gFS6cJMXUjQ/s400/fair1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394569376313681410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-3166776679927682141?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/3166776679927682141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=3166776679927682141&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3166776679927682141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/3166776679927682141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/10/puyallup-fair.html' title='Puyallup Fair'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/St1cR4VgYmI/AAAAAAAAB7M/QfTfGensjjY/s72-c/fain2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-1218666896681168207</id><published>2009-10-19T23:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T00:17:15.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What the...</title><content type='html'>What a strange night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was dark and starting to get cold.  I opened the garage to find a strange older man standing behind Steph's car.  He was not moving and did not flinch when I came out.  I knew Steph was leaving soon so decided to wait for her.  She immediately noticed the weirdo and decided to get in her car and drive away before things got weird.  She had to back her car up and almost hit the dude, but he was standing right behind her car on the street and was not moving.  She made it out and as I slowly drove by checking him out, I could see his eyes were closed and he was holding tight onto something.  Weird&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Fred Meyer for the most random shopping trip.  I needed a picture frame, shoe laces (Max has eaten through all of them on my running shoes) and eye liner.  The following conversations actually occurred while there:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking with my friend on the phone:&lt;br /&gt;Me: If you could see me right now you would not admit we are friends.  I'm wearing jeans that are too big and rolled up, black flip flops, a brown over sized hoodie, my hair is pulled up, and not a lick of makeup since I ran 6 miles after work.&lt;br /&gt;Friend: Yep, pretty rough there Linds.  Hurry home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking with a different friend on the phone:&lt;br /&gt;Her: Do you think so and so is a lesbian.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh ya.  Have for years which is why I thought it was weird she went on a mission, but I know a few of those so what ever.&lt;br /&gt;Her: You should have told her.  &lt;br /&gt;Me: Um...Ya.  I'm not sure how to bring that one up.  Just throw out, "You know you're a lesbian right?" I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While carrying around said picture frame browsing through the Christmas CD's and looking like trash.&lt;br /&gt;50 year old creepy guy: That's a nice print.  Are you going to hang it in your room?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Print, oh I'm just getting this for the frame.&lt;br /&gt;50 old guy: It's such a nice picture.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Really, I thought this part where it tells the size and brand kind of takes away from the photo.&lt;br /&gt;50 old guy: Are you from Ashford, OR? (I was wearing my old Ashford sweatshirt)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Nope, they use to be my client.&lt;br /&gt;50 old guy: Oh, what do you do.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (As I turn and start walking away) I work in advertising.  Have a good one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously old guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, IT GOT WEIRD.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-1218666896681168207?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/1218666896681168207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=1218666896681168207&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1218666896681168207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/1218666896681168207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/10/what.html' title='What the...'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-6295414433440662616</id><published>2009-09-28T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T22:21:50.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year Older and Wiser Too</title><content type='html'>I remember when I use to not have any candles: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsGYjSCpiAI/AAAAAAAAB5s/tjLAjtuoHmQ/s1600-h/birthday2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 328px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsGYjSCpiAI/AAAAAAAAB5s/tjLAjtuoHmQ/s400/birthday2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386754361217615874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's a mini bonfire:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsGYjD6enFI/AAAAAAAAB5k/SljqVihrOvM/s1600-h/bday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 325px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsGYjD6enFI/AAAAAAAAB5k/SljqVihrOvM/s400/bday.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386754357425249362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Here's to another year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-6295414433440662616?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/6295414433440662616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=6295414433440662616&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6295414433440662616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6295414433440662616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-year-older-and-wiser-too.html' title='One Year Older and Wiser Too'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SsGYjSCpiAI/AAAAAAAAB5s/tjLAjtuoHmQ/s72-c/birthday2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36523695.post-6731191466691073173</id><published>2009-09-22T22:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T22:34:12.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Busted</title><content type='html'>Every morning I wake up, make my bed and get in the shower, but lately someone has been getting back into my bed.  At first I was totally baffled.  I'd come home and the pillows would be on the floor or the covers would be all messed up.  Then one day I caught him.  I came home to this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/Srmxu0BAymI/AAAAAAAAB5M/MDe7SZPLHUk/s1600-h/bed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/Srmxu0BAymI/AAAAAAAAB5M/MDe7SZPLHUk/s400/bed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384530247293127266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two mounds in the middle.  The first is the pocket Max digs to get under the covers.  The second mound is Max...asleep...under my covers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've accidentally sat on him a few times, but my favorite thing to do is call his name, listen to him give the most fake little cry and then slowly pull back the covers to watch him squint in agony over the bright lights.  I just see it as a little payback for all the times he wakes me up in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. I'm the crazy cat lady, but I like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36523695-6731191466691073173?l=itgotweird.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/feeds/6731191466691073173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36523695&amp;postID=6731191466691073173&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6731191466691073173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36523695/posts/default/6731191466691073173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itgotweird.blogspot.com/2009/09/busted.html' title='Busted'/><author><name>Lindsay Jane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16765122777584288856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/SRdROhfRHcI/AAAAAAAAA7s/jwUkYwmZI94/S220/me.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EIG2u3YouaA/Srmxu0BAymI/AAAAAAAAB5M/MDe7SZPLHUk/s72-c/bed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
