<?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-4707076319144097955</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:55:38.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Semi-Rantings of a Sane Woman</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>225</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-2892258197580181092</id><published>2011-09-20T21:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T22:01:56.492-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It All Comes Down To Faith</title><content type='html'>In the last few years I have had the opportunity to go through various stages of life. Single and living at home, single with roommates, single and living with family; but the recurring theme has always been single. My first romantic relationship started at the young age of 15 and continued pretty much until I was 22. After that amount of time there was obviously a lot of emotion involved and I didn't feel like I had true closure until this year. The end of that relationship was pretty tragic and shocking for me and definitely affected me adversely. My state of mind was not improved by the marriages of my best friend and sister within the same month, despite how happy I was for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I floundered for a couple of years, after deciding that the way I had been living previously hadn't done my marriage prospects any good, so I tried other things. Things that were basically not good for me which I eventually realized before I did something really stupid. Basically I had lost my faith in good things happening to me. It took me a while but I got to a healthier place. Everyone has their own way of dealing with grief mine was to be blunt and brash. My honesty won me some friends but it could also be very off-putting. Mostly it came from being unsure of who I was and eventually it was that self-discovery that gave me the confidence to date again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The great thing about finally knowing who I am is that it means I am more open to meeting people and also aware of what I want in a relationship. This also means that I know if someone rejects me it is not the end of the world. It just means that I am not what they are looking for in a mate. Part of that also means that I have faith. Faith that somewhere out there is someone that I am right for, someone who will accept me for who I already am, not some unrealistic idea. What gets me through the day despite an impending sense that time is passing too quickly and that my chances become fewer the older I get, is faith. Faith and hope in a divine plan that is beyond my understanding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-2892258197580181092?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/2892258197580181092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=2892258197580181092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2892258197580181092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2892258197580181092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/04/it.html' title='It All Comes Down To Faith'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-3146718766445235809</id><published>2011-09-16T08:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T08:28:31.099-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/tyPDQpel8bI" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-3146718766445235809?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/3146718766445235809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=3146718766445235809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3146718766445235809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3146718766445235809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/09/happy-thoughts.html' title='Happy Thoughts'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/tyPDQpel8bI/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4994466115264463592</id><published>2011-09-14T08:58:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T08:58:42.716-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Communication &amp; Etiquette</title><content type='html'>As previously mentioned I currently pay my bills by making sandwiches for people who pay for them. In this time I have made some interesting observations concerning human behavior. First is that people are rude. Second is that demographics are astonishingly telling. I work at two separate locations and the difference in how people treat me from one location to the other is dramatically different. Both are in affluent neighborhoods but the interesting thing is that the people at Location One are pretty friendly. They know some things about me and I usually know some things about them. At Location Two I am generally treated with disdain and have had assumptions made about my intelligence because of the job I do. Yes, I work for minimum wage but that doesn't make me stupid or not worth treating with respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At what point did it become okay to talk on your cell phone when ordering food? It is extremely rude and if I had my way I wouldn't serve you until you were done. I had someone come in last week and stand in front of the counter while on the phone and I continued to sweep and do some cleaning until he was done. When the phone call ended he was mad and asked if I was finally ready. I replied by telling him that I am always ready, just waiting for him. The most irritating part is when their sandwich is done or nearly so and they suddenly realize that something about their sandwich is not what they wanted. Usually this is because they were paying attention to something other than me and don't realize that what they told me and what they actually want are not the same thing. Inevitably they are put out and mad at me even though they were the ones not paying attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my place of employ has what can be called membership cards. On these cards you can earn points that add up to free food. These cards can also double as gift cards so I don't always know which it is. I generally assume that if they hand me money and their card that the card is to add point onto and the money is to pay for their order. I can't tell you how many times that people have been upset with me because the card was actually a gift card and I use the money they gave me instead. Is it wrong for me to assume that if you hand me money at the register that it is to pay for your purchase?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rant over, you may now continue with your day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4994466115264463592?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4994466115264463592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4994466115264463592' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4994466115264463592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4994466115264463592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/09/poor-communication-etiquette.html' title='Poor Communication &amp; Etiquette'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5212472437111952408</id><published>2011-09-11T17:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T17:53:52.611-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All About Perception</title><content type='html'>On this anniversary of significance it occurred to me that it is my perception of the events of ten years ago are pretty self-centered. What I mean by that is everything about it is based on my perception. I know where I was when I heard the news and how I felt. I remember how it affected my life as an adult, but it has never really occurred to me what effect it must have had on people who were teenagers or even younger at the time. My sister mentioned that she was in 9th grade and how everyone turned on the TV's in their classrooms to watch the story as it unfolded. I watched a documentary about one of the two photojournalists who was allowed at Ground Zero and how she tracked down some of the people she spent time with in the days and weeks she spent there. Link is: &lt;a href="http://www.hulu.com/portraits-from-ground-zero"&gt;Portraits from Ground Zero&lt;/a&gt;. I would highly recommend it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5212472437111952408?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5212472437111952408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5212472437111952408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5212472437111952408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5212472437111952408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/09/its-all-about-perception.html' title='It&apos;s All About Perception'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-6200941043850781700</id><published>2011-09-09T17:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T17:25:10.255-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheers and Jeers</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers to my landlord for taking care of our flooding problem so quickly&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to the guy who lives near my parents and whom uses his riding lawn mower on a lawn that would be much better served with a manual one. What a waste.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers to an anonymous benefactor.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to assumptions that people make about others.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers for Diet Coke and chocolate, but not mixed together, that's gross.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to adults who still act like children, mainly throwing tantrums when they don't get their way.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers for Hulu which keeps me entertained with old TV shows.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to minimum wage that is not sufficient to pay bills.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers for the weather getting cooler.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-6200941043850781700?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/6200941043850781700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=6200941043850781700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6200941043850781700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6200941043850781700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/09/cheers-and-jeers.html' title='Cheers and Jeers'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-314522610401069253</id><published>2011-09-06T21:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T21:55:37.111-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hug-o-war</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"I will not play at tug o' war.&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather play at hug o' war,&lt;br /&gt;Where everyone hugs&lt;br /&gt;Instead of tugs,&lt;br /&gt;Where everyone giggles&lt;br /&gt;And rolls on the rug,&lt;br /&gt;Where everyone kisses,&lt;br /&gt;And everyone grins,&lt;br /&gt;And everyone cuddles,&lt;br /&gt;And everyone wins."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Shel Silverstein &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-314522610401069253?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/314522610401069253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=314522610401069253' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/314522610401069253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/314522610401069253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/09/hug-o-war.html' title='Hug-o-war'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-7968629244489228926</id><published>2011-09-06T12:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T12:28:00.825-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lungs?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TumhRe2MeUU/TmW9VWZtOyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/6C1e3szSNxo/s1600/09031333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TumhRe2MeUU/TmW9VWZtOyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/6C1e3szSNxo/s320/09031333.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tell me this roast beef doesn't look like some kind of body part, specifically lungs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-7968629244489228926?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/7968629244489228926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=7968629244489228926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7968629244489228926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7968629244489228926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/09/lungs.html' title='Lungs?'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TumhRe2MeUU/TmW9VWZtOyI/AAAAAAAAAV4/6C1e3szSNxo/s72-c/09031333.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>651 W South Jordan Pkwy, South Jordan, UT 84095, USA</georss:featurename><georss:point>40.55834381304775 -111.90891623497009</georss:point><georss:box>40.55758981304775 -111.91015023497009 40.55909781304775 -111.9076822349701</georss:box></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5234888627215585138</id><published>2011-09-05T14:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T14:09:41.519-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Boty Fat"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u4tRQvjIc0Y/TmUrZwjiW4I/AAAAAAAAAV0/qX2k_UXh5Vw/s1600/09051253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u4tRQvjIc0Y/TmUrZwjiW4I/AAAAAAAAAV0/qX2k_UXh5Vw/s320/09051253.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's Labor Day and instead of laboring at the job I am not particularly fond of at the moment, I am spending it by laboring in my house. I am doing some cleaning and rearranging and came across this pictures that one of my students drew for me. It should be noted that people with autism are not typically known for their tact and in all reality this picture may not in fact be a reference to me, (though let's face it, it applies) it was just one of the reminders that sometimes the truest things come from the mouths of children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5234888627215585138?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5234888627215585138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5234888627215585138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5234888627215585138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5234888627215585138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/09/its-labor-day-and-instead-of-laboring.html' title='&quot;Boty Fat&quot;'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u4tRQvjIc0Y/TmUrZwjiW4I/AAAAAAAAAV0/qX2k_UXh5Vw/s72-c/09051253.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-7794663311639546229</id><published>2011-09-04T21:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T21:52:26.401-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Idea vs. The Reality</title><content type='html'>I recently decided to end a relationship in my life and it was a decision that was probably overdue. I have often noted that the state of my bedroom is often a direct reflection of my mental state. In the the last few weeks my room has been an absolute disaster. I have had no desire to put things where they go or make any effort whatsoever to change the fact that I was literally tripping over things everyday, which often led to mild cursing. Since the end of said relationship I have cleaned my room and bathroom, kitchen, hallway and even managed to alphabetize the fridge magnets. And while the fridge thing was maybe a little extreme, it has helped me restore order to my mind and house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that was interesting was that ending the relationship was not as difficult as I imagined it would be. It sort of became a mutual parting and after I felt much better. Only now am I having a delayed reaction to the break-up. The seriously weird part is that I was reminded about how this person made me feel while I was at church which is a place he never went with me and was a major reason for our break-up. I realized that it is not so much HIM that I am missing, but the idea of him. It's the idea of someone who would send me text messages in the morning to ask how my day is going, or scare me during movie previews, or call me "Sweetie," that I miss the most. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not overjoyed that I now have to start over from scratch sometime in the (hopefully) near future with someone else. If anything I am comforted by the fact that the idea is still attainable. My faith and hope is still there and I actually have more confidence that someday eventually someone is going to love me for exactly who I am. All I can do is be the best version of me and trust that one day I will be someone's reality and not just their idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-7794663311639546229?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/7794663311639546229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=7794663311639546229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7794663311639546229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7794663311639546229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/09/idea-vs-reality.html' title='The Idea vs. The Reality'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-2294760647827709983</id><published>2011-09-04T14:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T14:23:04.665-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress in Visible Form</title><content type='html'>I am not vain about a lot of things. In general I am a firm believer that the essence of a person is not reflected in their outward appearance but in the depth of caring and compassion in their soul. I am however proud of the normally flawless nature of my skin. Up until my 30th birthday earlier this year I had only ever had two (yes, single digit two,) zits. Because this has never been a concern of mine, I have never really noticed when other people have a problem with them. Just as I never noticed how many people also drove Ford Rangers until I myself started driving one. The last few weeks have been rather stressful with events such as basement flooding, break-ups, car trouble, cutting of hours at work, re-establishment of hours at work, small paychecks, inability to start school as planned and etc. All of this has culminated in the explosion of my lower face into what can only be described as a painful field of zit suck. Sigh. I am trying to think happy thoughts, because at least I am confident in myself as a person not to care what other people think about it, as opposed to the possibility that as a teenager I would have taken to clothing myself in a burqa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-2294760647827709983?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/2294760647827709983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=2294760647827709983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2294760647827709983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2294760647827709983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/09/stress-in-visible-form.html' title='Stress in Visible Form'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5790249769237153326</id><published>2011-08-29T19:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T00:33:04.098-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Flood Waters!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FwVIp5N96qg/Tlw9SfUAsSI/AAAAAAAAAVo/isMJ64iwgjE/s1600/08290806a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646455420668129570" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FwVIp5N96qg/Tlw9SfUAsSI/AAAAAAAAAVo/isMJ64iwgjE/s400/08290806a.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still don't know how this happened, it had not even rained that hard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G1hXhYN-Z1g/Tlw9SFZbRII/AAAAAAAAAVg/2wldDqI9bAc/s1600/08290113.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646455413711520898" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G1hXhYN-Z1g/Tlw9SFZbRII/AAAAAAAAAVg/2wldDqI9bAc/s400/08290113.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My living room, we had to evacuate everything out of the basement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lNFIODkFijk/Tlw9R5USgRI/AAAAAAAAAVY/gNoqSnFXndw/s1600/08290809.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646455410468749586" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lNFIODkFijk/Tlw9R5USgRI/AAAAAAAAAVY/gNoqSnFXndw/s400/08290809.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bathroom where water was pouring in, along with mud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-szNGay3iUbs/Tlw9Sf7-C3I/AAAAAAAAAVw/PoRXViBsThQ/s1600/08290806c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646455420835728242" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-szNGay3iUbs/Tlw9Sf7-C3I/AAAAAAAAAVw/PoRXViBsThQ/s400/08290806c.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can tell how deep the water got in the window well. We had to climb down and bail it out with buckets since it was pouring into the basement.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5790249769237153326?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5790249769237153326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5790249769237153326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5790249769237153326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5790249769237153326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/08/flood-waters.html' title='Flood Waters!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FwVIp5N96qg/Tlw9SfUAsSI/AAAAAAAAAVo/isMJ64iwgjE/s72-c/08290806a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4781066299328461834</id><published>2011-08-21T21:35:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T21:44:03.565-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Epic Fail Bread Bake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cbNo2c4jCrE/TlHQU7CaaLI/AAAAAAAAAVI/Kt4dvPBKzJI/s1600/07300930.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/-cbNo2c4jCrE/TlHQU7CaaLI/AAAAAAAAAVI/Kt4dvPBKzJI/s400/07300930.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643520865935714482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_lz1l2Z0w0U/TlHQGjBiOPI/AAAAAAAAAVA/V25cT5acZ8c/s1600/07300930a.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4781066299328461834?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4781066299328461834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4781066299328461834' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4781066299328461834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4781066299328461834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/08/epic-fail-bread-bake.html' title='Epic Fail Bread Bake'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cbNo2c4jCrE/TlHQU7CaaLI/AAAAAAAAAVI/Kt4dvPBKzJI/s72-c/07300930.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1333496428118620666</id><published>2011-08-21T21:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T21:32:14.569-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Errors of Misdirection</title><content type='html'>I would consider myself a pretty skilled navigator. Before I learned to drive my dad used to get in the car with me and then tell me that I had to give him directions on where we were going. Even if it was somewhere we had been a hundred times he would make me give him directions to get there. As a result I can give pretty concise and accurate directions. This is not always helpful to people who don't know which direction is north or south. I took a trip this weekend with a friend and as the front passenger I was tasked with the navigation. There came a point however when it was obvious that we were lost. We had been given to different sets of instructions to our destination, neither or which were faulty. The problem that made us go 20 miles past our turnoff was a lack of signage. At no point were we aware that we had even passed through the town that contained our turnoff. In both directions there was no indication that the two houses and one country store even was considered a town. Luckily for us one of the directions had included which mile marker to look for and we were able to backtrack enough to find our way again. My friend who pointed out that in this particular instance I had led us all astray and maybe my sense of direction was not as great as I thought. The experience made me think of a couple of quotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;You have brains in your head. You have feet in your  shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on  your own, and you know what you know. And you are the guy who'll decide  where to go.&lt;br /&gt;-- Dr. Seuss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;I don't care whether you're driving a hybrid or an SUV. If you're headed for a cliff, you have to change direction.&lt;br /&gt;-- Barack Obama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;The fragrance of flowers spreads only in the direction of the wind. But the goodness of a person spreads in all direction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Chanakya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-1333496428118620666?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1333496428118620666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1333496428118620666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1333496428118620666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1333496428118620666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/08/errors-of-misdirection.html' title='Errors of Misdirection'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1353624520616746656</id><published>2011-08-20T20:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T22:49:03.167-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Romance Ruination</title><content type='html'>It is hard to know whether I have been more indoctrinated by chick flicks or the romances of those around me. I take a look at my reality and can't decide if I am being unrealistic about my expectations because I expect too much, or not enough. Does romance even exist in the traditional sense anymore? It has become increasingly more common for people to meet their mates online. I know someone who "met" his wife while playing an online shooter game. For the most part I consider myself a realist, I am aware that every relationship will have it's problems, every person their own faults. Thanks to movies and the relationships of friends, I keep wondering why I am not getting "just because" flowers from the men I go out with. Or I wonder why someone doesn't just show up at my house because he knew I had a bad day. The thing about it is that while I love flowers and surprise visits I don't want to have to tell someone what I want and/or need. I know it's ridiculous because no one knows what I am thinking but me, it would just be nice to know that someone is thinking of me without any prodding. A great example of a fabulous marital relationship is my parents but I think that they are perhaps the exception instead of the rule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My current expectations come with an understanding that the older I get the more awkward dating has become. So many things about dating have changed. It used to be that there was a waiting period between when you went out with someone and when it was considered appropriate to call. Now you can text someone as soon as you leave with comments about your date. It was also considered a major faux pas to ask someone out by email or text, that should be done in person! Am I a fuddy duddy for wanting to build a relationship on actual time spent together instead of time communicating through an electronic device? Are we so insecure about ourselves that honest conversations can't happen in person anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh the movies. Where boy meets girl, something happens to tear them apart, all is forgiven and they live happily ever after. Can any woman really claim that a man has bought her 1,000 flowers, one for every moment he thought about her? I doubt it. I realize that I am coming across as a cynic and in the past I would have agreed. But now I come back to the original question. Do I expect too much or not enough?  As I have been dating these last few months I have been of two minds. The realistic side of me accepts the fact that despite having been out with someone multiple times, I have never received flowers, words of undying devotion, sacrifices of time to spend with each other or blissfully long staring contests because that is not real. The other half of me wonders why when I have a spare hour effort is not made to spend it with me, or why I had to spell out in pretty specific terms that after so many dates it is expected that there should at least be some hand holding, or why even slightly encouraging words of affection are not expressed because that is just how romance works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that while I know that things that are worth it are worth working for, I have begun to wonder how much is too much work? Is it every just easy? Ever? I have a suspicion that the answer is probably an unequivocal no. And herein lies the rub. I have been indoctrinated/brainwashed for so many years that I can't even tell anymore which of my expectations are, in fact, my own or those that have been forced upon me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-1353624520616746656?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1353624520616746656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1353624520616746656' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1353624520616746656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1353624520616746656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/08/romance-ruination.html' title='The Romance Ruination'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-9108678967581434126</id><published>2011-08-19T10:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T22:53:42.145-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="288" width="512"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/ZLpXqWceIR-snmXPWJbQkg"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/ZLpXqWceIR-snmXPWJbQkg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="288" width="512"&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/4707076319144097955-9108678967581434126?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/9108678967581434126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=9108678967581434126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/9108678967581434126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/9108678967581434126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-6534731171050565358</id><published>2011-08-11T21:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T21:15:24.961-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beauty Inside</title><content type='html'>I had a discussion with my roommates recently about where we would like to be married. Two of my four roommates share the same faith as me and the three of us gave the location of several different temples. One roommate couldn't understand why one would be different from the other because as she said "they all look the same." And to her they do. As we got more into the discussion it became apparent that our reasons for choosing temples were basically the same, it was not the outside that made the difference to us but the inside. Not only the way things looked on the inside but also the experiences and feelings we had while being inside of these temples. If only all things in life could be like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-6534731171050565358?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/6534731171050565358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=6534731171050565358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6534731171050565358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6534731171050565358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/08/beauty-inside.html' title='The Beauty Inside'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-8484067204128154445</id><published>2011-08-10T22:34:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T22:43:50.673-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Long Trek Indeed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9ra5row-c6Q/TlHclRsZk2I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/EcKGsZG7D5w/s1600/08091418.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/-9ra5row-c6Q/TlHclRsZk2I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/EcKGsZG7D5w/s400/08091418.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643534341034840930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent most of yesterday in the middle of nowhere Wyoming. And before you say it, yes I realize that most of Wyoming is middle of nowhere. I drove out with my mom to the place where Mormon pioneers crossed the plains at a place called Sweetwater Crossing. My parent's stake was in the middle of doing their pioneer trek with the youth and my mother went to read some journal entries before they crossed the river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without going into all of it, the short of it is that four men who had come to help the pioneers cross this river in November when it was crusted with ice ended up carrying some 500 people across the river. There were three groups that I watched re-enact this scenario and each time it got a little more difficult for me to watch. I watched these teenage boys pick up grown men and women alike and delicately carry them across a river. I am so grateful for those brave pioneer women and men who gave up so much for a better life, free from persecution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-8484067204128154445?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/8484067204128154445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=8484067204128154445' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8484067204128154445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8484067204128154445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/08/long-trek-indeed.html' title='A Long Trek Indeed'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9ra5row-c6Q/TlHclRsZk2I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/EcKGsZG7D5w/s72-c/08091418.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5244331080526561171</id><published>2011-08-03T23:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T23:58:41.747-06:00</updated><title type='text'>L-O-V-E</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/oqeoKrKDffc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have I mentioned how much I love the new stuff from Jon Schmidt? And these Piano Guys rock my world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5244331080526561171?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5244331080526561171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5244331080526561171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5244331080526561171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5244331080526561171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/08/l-o-v-e.html' title='L-O-V-E'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/oqeoKrKDffc/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-3510017923532091330</id><published>2011-08-02T11:33:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T23:43:59.064-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dating Inquisition</title><content type='html'>I will be the first to admit that my dating history has been interesting and kind of spotty. I have heard that I can be perceived as intimidating, which is frustrating since I often feel anything but. I have had a streak of "good luck," lately and of course this attracts attention from people who care for me. I have found myself sometimes irritated when people inquire how the personal life is going, partly because I don't even know myself, and also partly because I have never had to field these questions before. Since I am older than the societal norm for my area, and not married, there is naturally some curiosity about how I am going to fix that. I am usually pretty certain about things in my life as far as my personal relationships go and if I am not sure, then I find out. This time around as I have been doing my dating I have been trying to enjoy the process (is that possible?) This is not my favorite because it usually means I am holding back to avoid scaring the poor man to death. At this point in my life I am relatively certain of the things that I am looking for in a mate, I also am an open book. I am a pretty good communicator of my feelings and emotions. I am not afraid to share things with people but have discovered that sometimes mystery is not a bad thing. I just don't like not knowing how the other person is feeling. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some reason I was under the horrible assumption that as I got older dating would get easier. Ummm, yeah, no. It turns out that I still end up feeling like an angst ridden teenager, just one with bills to pay and the frantic worry of watching my child-bearing years fly by.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-3510017923532091330?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/3510017923532091330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=3510017923532091330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3510017923532091330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3510017923532091330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/08/dating-inquisition.html' title='The Dating Inquisition'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-573575567362981499</id><published>2011-08-01T18:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T23:26:29.672-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Semi-Rant</title><content type='html'>It's time for a rant. As I have been spending a lot more time on the road lately due to the location of my job, I have the opportunity to see a lot of personalized license plates. Here is my problem, some of them suck. I can't tell what it is supposed to say and it aggravates me. Help me out here:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;CRPNCOP&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;NU PH1&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;VIVRE&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;OL GUP&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;RBRDFLS&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;ORAYK&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ugh. I realize it's a silly little thing but it is extremely annoying when I follow someone for 20 miles and can't figure out their license plate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-573575567362981499?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/573575567362981499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=573575567362981499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/573575567362981499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/573575567362981499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/08/semi-rant.html' title='Semi-Rant'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-992496260162799782</id><published>2011-07-26T19:37:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T23:48:48.363-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Won't Miss</title><content type='html'>There were so many good things about my job at the elementary school but here are a few that I won't miss:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saying: "No tag on the playground equipment." EVERY recess, seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Touching  a door handle or wall and not knowing what I just put my hand in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Parents who don't follow the parking lot rules and also let their kids ignore them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saying: "Walk please!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sixth grade students who always wanted to know what my boyfriend's name is/was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hormonal pre-teens&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&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/4707076319144097955-992496260162799782?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/992496260162799782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=992496260162799782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/992496260162799782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/992496260162799782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/07/things-i-wont-miss.html' title='Things I Won&apos;t Miss'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5672097572724664716</id><published>2011-07-09T22:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T22:10:23.826-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Clues</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GsLqQXJNayM/Thkl8q50-oI/AAAAAAAAAU4/cikeHtjQc5A/s1600/07092159a.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&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/-GsLqQXJNayM/Thkl8q50-oI/AAAAAAAAAU4/cikeHtjQc5A/s400/07092159a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627570933615360642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I would like to know what you can tell about me by looking at this picture of my desk. Please post comments! As a disclaimer I did absolutely nothing to it before taking the picture, everything is as it always is in my room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&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/4707076319144097955-5672097572724664716?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5672097572724664716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5672097572724664716' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5672097572724664716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5672097572724664716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/07/clues.html' title='Clues'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GsLqQXJNayM/Thkl8q50-oI/AAAAAAAAAU4/cikeHtjQc5A/s72-c/07092159a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-3481916718896362288</id><published>2011-07-09T14:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T15:13:22.618-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I'm Short</title><content type='html'>I know that I am short. It's not something that has recently become apparent to me, it's just become more inconvenient. At my newish job making sandwiches, there are many topping options, this necessitates a counter that is three "cambros" deep. For the most part my height is not a hindrance when the topping containers are full. However when olives or spinach, which are at the back, get low I have to lean pretty far over and try not to lay on the sandwich in front of me. Then of course there are the cups and lids which are on shelves in the stockroom that are nowhere near where I can reach them. The guys that I work with kind of enjoy tormenting me, unless I bring my chocolate chocolate chip cookies. I am short, not that I mind. The only time I mind is when I stand with my siblings. I am the oldest AND the shortest. Genetics, what's not to love?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-3481916718896362288?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/3481916718896362288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=3481916718896362288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3481916718896362288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3481916718896362288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/07/yes-im-short.html' title='Yes, I&apos;m Short'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4284102441088647161</id><published>2011-07-08T15:13:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T15:28:26.853-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Age Is Not a Decider</title><content type='html'>I am now 30 and just admitting that is weird. It seems such a silly thing to cause re-evaluation, but going from 20's to 30's has helped me make some changes in my life.  I have become more aware of my behavior, wondering if the reason people don't think I am 30 is because of my youthful complexion or something else. It's possible that my Fraggle Rock and Ghostbusters t-shirts don't make people look at me and think, mature adult. I am, I promise! (Try saying that in a whiny voice, it helps) I also get really excited about small things. But I don't think this is a sign of immaturity, which I think it is often perceived as. Part of my self discovery has been that I am just excited about life. I like quiet reflection while watching the clouds drift overhead, but I can get happy and giddy when people tell me something that they are excited about. It may make me seem young and naive, but I just have a passion for life. And now I am seeking someone who can either enjoy that part of me or share it, no matter how old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4284102441088647161?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4284102441088647161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4284102441088647161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4284102441088647161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4284102441088647161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/07/age-is-not-decider.html' title='Age Is Not a Decider'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-7055106363458346956</id><published>2011-06-23T23:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T23:49:47.298-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cello Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="480" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Ry4BzonlVlw?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-7055106363458346956?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/7055106363458346956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=7055106363458346956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7055106363458346956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7055106363458346956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/06/cello-song.html' title='The Cello Song'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/Ry4BzonlVlw/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5209923834066181516</id><published>2011-06-22T23:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T23:37:40.713-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Has Arrived</title><content type='html'>Now that the weather is starting to actually act like summer, I am remembering how much I love living in basements. I realized that even though I have lived in three different locations all of the places I have lived in the last five years have been below ground. I used to love the obvious difference between the main living spaces and my subterranean abode. It's interesting that I have such an intolerance for the summer heat of Utah considering the fact that I have lived here for all of my 30 years. Shouldn't the laws of nature have kicked in so that I could adapt to scorching weather? Things to ponder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5209923834066181516?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5209923834066181516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5209923834066181516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5209923834066181516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5209923834066181516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/06/summer-has-arrived.html' title='Summer Has Arrived'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1635276146189970120</id><published>2011-06-19T22:46:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T23:29:29.389-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ups and Downs of Life</title><content type='html'>As I mentioned previously I have been making a lot of changes in my life and I have been really excited about them. Now that the novelty has faded I have to admit to a little discouragement. I started my new job as a "sandwich artist" and it is draining in a totally different way from teaching school. I think the thing I miss the most is making a difference in kids lives. I guess I am kind of making a difference in other people's lives by making their lunch.... (it should be noted that I am saying this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;facetiously&lt;/span&gt;) Since I haven't started my own schooling yet, I am having a difficult time with seeing past the now. I keep telling myself that it will all be worth it when I can work and go to school and perhaps see the degree at the end of the tunnel.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing that keeps me grounded and optimistic is the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was feeling kinda down yesterday and was really looking for something to get me out of this funk. That's why I love Sundays. It just seemed like everything I heard at church today was meant for me to hear. The lessons, the speakers, the comments people were making, it all made me feel like myself again. I also came across this quote today in my browsing:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(0, 51, 153); font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="sqq" href="http://thinkexist.com/quotation/difficult_times_have_helped_me_to_understand/8971.html" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 51, 153); text-decoration: none; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Difficult times have helped me to understand better than before, how infinitely rich and beautiful life is in every way, and that so many things that one goes worrying about are of no importance whatsoever...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;" Baroness Karen Blixen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;After the rain stopped this afternoon I drove to my parent's house for dinner and as I was driving on the freeway I couldn't help but look at the amazing mountains that surround the valley and how beautiful they were with the green trees and snow capped tops. I am so thankful that I am still able to look around at this place I have lived for 30 years and still see it's beauty. I am also thankful to a loving Heavenly Father who knows just what I need and despite my faults still helps me. Did I mention that I love Sundays?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;color:#003399;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6633FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-1635276146189970120?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1635276146189970120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1635276146189970120' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1635276146189970120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1635276146189970120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/06/ups-and-downs-of-life.html' title='The Ups and Downs of Life'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-3043113041916350686</id><published>2011-06-06T19:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T19:59:15.593-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Frenzy!</title><content type='html'>Last year was kind of a blah year for movies but I am super excited for this year. I have already seen Thor, X-Men and Pirates. But still to come is Captain America, The Green Lantern, Harry Potter, Transformers, Fast Five, Super 8, Battle Los Angeles, and Cowboys &amp;amp; Aliens. Great summer for movies!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-3043113041916350686?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/3043113041916350686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=3043113041916350686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3043113041916350686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3043113041916350686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/06/movie-frenzy.html' title='Movie Frenzy!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-8444209920019862533</id><published>2011-06-06T11:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T11:32:28.954-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Whole Lot of Furry Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Hnt1-dlGXtc/Te0Oq7mOaAI/AAAAAAAAAUw/YHfQjeFpKmw/s1600/05301403.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&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/-Hnt1-dlGXtc/Te0Oq7mOaAI/AAAAAAAAAUw/YHfQjeFpKmw/s400/05301403.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615160441116190722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One of the best things about my new truck is that doggie rides are even more fun now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-8444209920019862533?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/8444209920019862533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=8444209920019862533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8444209920019862533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8444209920019862533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/06/whole-lot-of-furry-love.html' title='A Whole Lot of Furry Love'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Hnt1-dlGXtc/Te0Oq7mOaAI/AAAAAAAAAUw/YHfQjeFpKmw/s72-c/05301403.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-3523979296278197214</id><published>2011-06-06T10:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T11:02:22.655-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Season of Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. Anatole France&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;A lot of things have been happening which is why I haven't posted in a while. So here is a rundown of the last 45 or so days. I moved from my grandmothers basement to a townhouse with four other girls that I had never met before. I went from Primary chorister in a family ward, to joining a newly reorganized singles ward. I haven't had a car in over a year and just got a truck that is mine free and clear. As the end of the school year approached I was desperately looking for a summer job. My plan was to go back next school year and then do some online school in the fall. An opportunity presented itself Memorial Day weekend that changed everything. So instead of working another school year, I will be going to school full time and paying bills by making sandwiches. My personal life has also seen a lot of changes too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; font-size: medium;"&gt;It has all been a little overwhelming and the hardest part was probably saying goodbye to the great friends I have made among my co-workers at the school and to the kids. Some of those kids had been in my class for 3 years so there are a lot of memories. They are all good changes, its just a lot of adjustment. Here's to new beginnings!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-3523979296278197214?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/3523979296278197214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=3523979296278197214' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3523979296278197214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3523979296278197214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/06/season-of-change.html' title='A Season of Change'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-6737452367088711332</id><published>2011-05-05T20:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T20:53:43.306-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Brilliance</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="512" height="288"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/TVhm5NusU3aap2dHn2ruSw"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/TVhm5NusU3aap2dHn2ruSw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="512" height="288" allowfullscreen="true"&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/4707076319144097955-6737452367088711332?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/6737452367088711332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=6737452367088711332' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6737452367088711332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6737452367088711332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/05/brilliance.html' title='Brilliance'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4043317390138972149</id><published>2011-04-25T20:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T20:17:25.418-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Important Information is M s i g</title><content type='html'>There has been a recent outbreak of measles at some of the schools in my neighborhood so I was just doing some browsing on the subject. I was reading thing on the school districts website and also a couple of national news sources. However, I am a little irritated because this is what it said:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;p xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" apcm="http://ap.org/schemas/03/2005/apcm" apnm="http://ap.org/schemas/03/2005/apnm" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;SALT LAKE CITY (AP) — Health officials in Utah are trying to contain a measles outbreak that may have infected hundreds of people who attended two recent community events.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" apcm="http://ap.org/schemas/03/2005/apcm" apnm="http://ap.org/schemas/03/2005/apnm" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;Nine cases in the state have been linked to exposure to one unvaccinated person who contracted the disease in Poland, according to the Salt Lake Valley health department. Epidemiologists have determined that the infected person exposed as many as 1,000 people earlier this month.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" apcm="http://ap.org/schemas/03/2005/apcm" apnm="http://ap.org/schemas/03/2005/apnm" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;Measles are so contagious that if one person has it, 90 percent of those near that individual will also become infected if they are not immune.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" apcm="http://ap.org/schemas/03/2005/apcm" apnm="http://ap.org/schemas/03/2005/apnm" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;To keep the outbreak from spreading, state health officials are urging anyone who attended either event to contact the &lt;a href="http://www.ctpost.com/?controllerName=search&amp;amp;action=search&amp;amp;channel=news&amp;amp;search=1&amp;amp;inlineLink=1&amp;amp;query=%22Utah+Poison+Control+Center%22" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; color: rgb(0, 102, 153); text-decoration: none; "&gt;Utah Poison Control Center&lt;/a&gt; to determine if they were properly vaccinated against the measles virus. Those who attended the first event also are being asked to stay at home until April 29, and until May 1 if they attended the second event.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read more: &lt;a href="http://www.ctpost.com/news/article/Officials-Measles-outbreak-in-Utah-traced-to-1-1348868.php#ixzz1KajJAnxs" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; color: rgb(0, 51, 153); text-decoration: none; "&gt;http://www.ctpost.com/news/article/Officials-Measles-outbreak-in-Utah-traced-to-1-1348868.php#ixzz1KajJAnxs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Nowhere in the article(s) that I have looked at has any mention been made of WHAT those two community events were! I am relatively sure that I am safe from the outbreak because first of all my parents were smart enough to have me vaccinated, and second of all I don't think I attended any community events that involved thousands of people lately. However, it might be useful information to know more specifics about the two community events!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4043317390138972149?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4043317390138972149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4043317390138972149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4043317390138972149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4043317390138972149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/04/important-information-is-m-s-i-g.html' title='Important Information is M s i g'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5176585365483879061</id><published>2011-03-08T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T20:26:19.088-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yay! I'm 30.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5176585365483879061?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5176585365483879061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5176585365483879061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5176585365483879061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5176585365483879061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/04/yay-im-30.html' title='Yay! I&apos;m 30.'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-6470986698900567446</id><published>2011-03-05T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T23:19:46.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burnout</title><content type='html'>I have been feeling rather melancholy of late and have realized that it's just because a lot is happening right now. I am very good at taking care of the people around me and then forgetting about myself. I also have a horrible habit of not knowing when to say no. Recently I had a neighbor give me a book on boundaries that I am trying to read right now. I don't know what it says about me that someone who only sees me from afar on Sundays and for a 20 minute visit once a month knows/thinks that I need to prioritize. So much of my life lately seems to be working or attempting to please someone else. Balance is definitely needed. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am taking an Institute class this semester and I have just had to stop wearing make-up on Tuesdays because I just end up crying in class. The teacher is amazing and it is the one place in my week that for 90 minutes I can relax and not worry about life. I don't have to explain in excruciating detail to my teacher why I am writing with a red pen or why the person next to me is wearing a turtleneck. I am me there and that is all I need to be. After a recent visit with a medical professional I have been vindicated because he says that I don't need to be worried about my health, I am just burned out. Unfortunately the thing that is making me burned out right now is not something I can change. I am just going to have to find different ways to cope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-6470986698900567446?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/6470986698900567446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=6470986698900567446' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6470986698900567446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6470986698900567446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/03/burnout.html' title='Burnout'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-6600964465248378491</id><published>2011-03-02T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T22:54:46.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Girl Can Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GYFAcjNG3nQ/TXRymIV1FoI/AAAAAAAAAUk/dwfO_NKof2E/s1600/Purple-Kitchenaid-Mixer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GYFAcjNG3nQ/TXRymIV1FoI/AAAAAAAAAUk/dwfO_NKof2E/s400/Purple-Kitchenaid-Mixer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581211837618525826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Three words to be said: "I want this."&lt;div&gt;That is all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-6600964465248378491?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/6600964465248378491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=6600964465248378491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6600964465248378491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6600964465248378491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/03/girl-can-dream.html' title='A Girl Can Dream'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GYFAcjNG3nQ/TXRymIV1FoI/AAAAAAAAAUk/dwfO_NKof2E/s72-c/Purple-Kitchenaid-Mixer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-3452776070074361010</id><published>2011-03-01T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T23:03:19.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bucket List</title><content type='html'>As I approach my 30th birthday I have decided to make a bucket list. Here is what I have so far.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Visit and enter 50 temples (Visual is not enough)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go on a cruise&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;See "La Pieta" in person&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Visit Jerusalem&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Own a grand piano&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Learn to swim&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fluently speak a foreign language&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do volunteer work in a foreign country&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Read "Jesus the Christ"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Own a house (preferably with a spouse)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have an herb garden&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be debt free&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pay cash for a car&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-3452776070074361010?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/3452776070074361010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=3452776070074361010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3452776070074361010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3452776070074361010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/03/bucket-list.html' title='Bucket List'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1450807721195783876</id><published>2011-02-10T00:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T00:51:02.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meat, meat, meat, meat, meat!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="512" height="288"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/hPhyJZZtxbUdWj9Lm7BlDg"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/hPhyJZZtxbUdWj9Lm7BlDg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="512" height="288" allowfullscreen="true"&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/4707076319144097955-1450807721195783876?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1450807721195783876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1450807721195783876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1450807721195783876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1450807721195783876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/02/meat-meat-meat-meat-meat.html' title='Meat, meat, meat, meat, meat!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-2424331364016225316</id><published>2011-02-02T09:24:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T10:12:17.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Same to You!!</title><content type='html'>I had forgotten how lovely it is to answer a business phone and have to wade through the boiler room scammers. I got a particuarly fun one this morning. A woman called and wanted to make sure she was sending me "the right copier catalog." I informed her that we owned our copier to which she replied, "Good for you!" in an uber sarcastic voice and then promptly hung up on me. Ha! My momma didn't raise no fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was almost wishing for a more complicated call, the one where they ask for the owner. My dad has started a tradition, albeit messed up and amusing one, for getting rid of telemarketer scammers. Since my dad is listed as the owner of his company he gets a lot of people that call and want to talk to him. Once he gets on the phone and they start to spool out their crap, my dad informs them that he isn't really in charge, he is just a salesman. (Technically that is partially true as both my parents are equal partners and he does in fact do sales) When the telemarketer inquires about who makes the business decisions, he mentions that who they really want to talk to is Rastas Cloverleaf. When they ask when a good time to reach Rastas is, he states that Rastas only comes in occasionally for his mail. The person is therefore welcome to mail him something. Then comes the inevitable piece of mail addressed to Mr. Rastas Cloverleaf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the charade has being going on for many a year, either my dad got bored or people were starting to not believe him so the story has been added upon. Rastas now has a brother named Rufus and they run the business together. A few years ago when I was answering phones and had a phone call like this I mentioned that Rastas was out of the country. The caller then inquired to where he had gone. I just couldn't help myself and proceeded to tell this guy that Rastas had gone back to Dubai to bring another one of his wives back to the states. He was of course astonished and asked me how many wives the guy had to which I replied that I wasn't really sure, but there were at least two that were already living here. That was the most fun I have ever had with a telemarketer. I feel slightly bad because I know they are just doing their job, but I thought it was pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that the woman this morning hung up on me does not offend me. In fact it kind of made my morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-2424331364016225316?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/2424331364016225316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=2424331364016225316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2424331364016225316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2424331364016225316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/02/same-to-you.html' title='Same to You!!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-6360341039866090044</id><published>2011-02-01T20:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T20:57:02.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful and Bitterly Cold!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TUjV3uFJDBI/AAAAAAAAAUU/yPRMXjrY2fE/s1600/30741_1600x1200-wallpaper-cb1294145215.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/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TUjV3uFJDBI/AAAAAAAAAUU/yPRMXjrY2fE/s400/30741_1600x1200-wallpaper-cb1294145215.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568936092482735122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-6360341039866090044?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/6360341039866090044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=6360341039866090044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6360341039866090044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6360341039866090044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/02/beautiful-and-bitterly-cold.html' title='Beautiful and Bitterly Cold!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TUjV3uFJDBI/AAAAAAAAAUU/yPRMXjrY2fE/s72-c/30741_1600x1200-wallpaper-cb1294145215.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-8573043120855642984</id><published>2011-01-31T13:01:00.008-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T14:06:24.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Only If it is an Even Numbered Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;I am a foodie. I take great joy in eating and have to be very careful that I don't just eat because things taste good. I have been trying to train my brain to remember that this will not be the last time I will ever taste whatever it is I am eating and so it is okay to not finish everything in front of me. I blame part of this on being told as a child that I had to eat everything on my plate before I could get down from the table. I took everything literally and it just stuck. Like the time I buttered my dad's toast for him and he told me to make sure I got butter in all the corners and so I quite literally made sure that every millmeter of that toast had butter on it. From that day forward I have been diligent about toast buttering. I was an impressionable child apparently. So when someone asks me about my favorite restaurant or my favorite food, as a foodie this is a severly complicated question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all starts and ends with meat. As I often say, "A meal without meat just isn't complete." I categorize my favorites by what I will eat there and then by price. So as succinctly as possible here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Burgers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;TGIF - Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburger with a side of Jack Daniel's sauce&lt;br /&gt;Five Guys - Bacon Cheese with mushrooms, pickles, and tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;Carl's Jr. - Western Bacon Cheeseburger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chinese Food:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Asian Star - Tangerine Beef, Pork and Snow peas, Pon pon chicken&lt;br /&gt;Dragon Diner - Mongolian Beef, Shrimp with Lobster sauce&lt;br /&gt;New Flavor - Sesame Chicken&lt;br /&gt;Chinese Gourmet&lt;br /&gt;Panda Express - Walnut Shrimp, Orange chicken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Greek:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Mad Greek - Gyro with white sauce and tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;Crown Burger - ditto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Japanese:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Simply Sushi&lt;br /&gt;Oh Sushi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thai:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Sawadee - Massaman curry&lt;br /&gt;Curry in a Hurry - ditto &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mexican (sort of):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Cafe Rio - Pork quesdilla&lt;br /&gt;Taco Bell - Chicken burrito&lt;br /&gt;Molcasalsa - Horchata&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Miscellaneous:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Wingers - Wings with Ranch dip&lt;br /&gt;Papa Murphy's - Thin crust Chicken bacon artichoke&lt;br /&gt;Red Lobster - seafood is delicious, cheese biscuits&lt;br /&gt;Olive Garden - Steak Gorgonzola pasta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. I am making myself sick just thinking about all this food. So in response to someone's question about favorite food it will depend on what mood I am in. Unless it is an even numbered Tuesday and then the answer will always be roadkill.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-8573043120855642984?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/8573043120855642984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=8573043120855642984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8573043120855642984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8573043120855642984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/01/only-if-it-is-even-numbered-tuesday.html' title='Only If it is an Even Numbered Tuesday'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4276506653388016861</id><published>2011-01-29T12:16:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T12:35:36.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boils, Blankets and Burns</title><content type='html'>Let's face it some days or weeks are better than others and apparently I was due a bad one. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will start off by admitting something that people are usually jealous of me for. I don't get zits. Never have and I don't even notice when other people do because it doesn't occur to me that it is a big deal. Right now however, it is a BIG deal. I have a gigantic "thing" on my chin. One of my students asked me what was wrong with my face and then proceeded to tell me (quite innocently) that he thought I may have a spider bite or a hornet sting, but either way there was something wrong with my face. (sigh) From the mouths of babes or autistic children. So not only am I appalled that this is happening to me just shy of the big 30, but my whole face hurts. This sucks big time! I have a whole newly found sympathy for people who have/will/do deal with acne. Ouch. It hurts to talk and eat. I am super self-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;conscious&lt;/span&gt; about it. I almost wish it was a boil so I could at least say it was something cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also started off this week with a developing cold. I am prone to sinus infections and so of course that is how it has started. Gradually as the week as gone on it has progressed and right now I could sing bass in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;MoTab&lt;/span&gt;. I'm exhausted. That kind where you feel like there is a weight on your chest and you just want to curl up in your blankets and sleep. Too bad life won't allow me that luxury.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a new favorite soup recipe that I got from a magazine and it doesn't take very long to make so before work one day I made some to take for lunch. When it came time to eat at work I heated it up too long and of course burned my tongue. So not only can I not smell a lot right now, I also can't taste anything due to scorched taste buds. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To top it off this week I was: bitten by a student, yelled at by a parent, scratched by another student, told I was having a bad hair day by a student, ruined the SD card for my phone, forgot a friend's birthday, guilt tripped by a co-worker, broke a pair of shoes, and lost my favorite ring. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that I have ranted, the week is over and it's time to move on. Pessimism won't help so I am banishing it into my ruined shoes and throwing it away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4276506653388016861?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4276506653388016861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4276506653388016861' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4276506653388016861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4276506653388016861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/01/boils-blankets-and-burns.html' title='Boils, Blankets and Burns'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-2945772634848765174</id><published>2011-01-23T23:53:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T00:40:45.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Opa!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TT0sw2dFmXI/AAAAAAAAAUI/1zSyagcuMqA/s1600/salt-lake-mormon-temple146.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TT0sw2dFmXI/AAAAAAAAAUI/1zSyagcuMqA/s400/salt-lake-mormon-temple146.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565653932262660466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is what we would call an "Opa sunset"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-2945772634848765174?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/2945772634848765174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=2945772634848765174' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2945772634848765174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2945772634848765174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-birthday-opa.html' title='Happy Birthday Opa!!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TT0sw2dFmXI/AAAAAAAAAUI/1zSyagcuMqA/s72-c/salt-lake-mormon-temple146.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-9182780070862106502</id><published>2011-01-23T22:45:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T23:12:51.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Just Happened?</title><content type='html'>I have been stewing over a date I went on for over a week now. I thought it went pretty well until the end when he wasn't even going to get out of the car and walk me to the door. I might have offended him by basically ordering him to get out of the car. He did get out but only to stand by the car and watch me climb over some snow drifts to get to the door.  The thing that frustrates me the most is I really thought it was going pretty good until then. And as a reference, I don't often feel like I qualify as "hot," but on our date I looked totally smokin'. Three days later I got a very succinct email saying that he just didn't feel a connection and wishing me luck. That's fine, I'm not going to try and change his mind. I am just left feeling confused because for almost 18 months now we have been emailing and texting on a somewhat infrequent basis. The last three months have seen an increase in our communication to a daily basis at which point I suggested that perhaps it was time to meet. Every attempt to meet before this had been canceled for one reason or another and I was determined that if we didn't meet this time I was going to give up on the possibility of a romantic relationship. How well can you really know someone that you have never seen? I thought perhaps it was well enough that even if things didn't work out we could still be friends, but apparently not. The email I got was pretty clear that there would never be any further contact. A part of me wants to respond back and tell him that he is missing out on a great thing because I am awesome. That is the slightly angry part. The other part of me just wants to know why. Is it because I drank 4 glasses of Diet Coke at dinner? Is it because I ordered my burger without lettuce? Obviously asking myself these questions don't help. And do I really want to know the answer? I guess I am just perplexed because for some reason, even though our correspondence was somewhat spotty, I couldn't stop thinking about this guy. I thought it was a sign or fate trying to tell me that I had a future with him in it. I know it sounds silly and most of it was probably because I have not had any prospects lately and having this one gave me some hope. This latest experience isn't going to make me give up. Sure this didn't turn out how I expected, but I know that someday I will meet someone. I hope that day is sooner rather than later, but if it isn't I will just continue to remember that eventually my time will come. I just may have to remind myself more often than I would like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-9182780070862106502?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/9182780070862106502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=9182780070862106502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/9182780070862106502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/9182780070862106502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-just-happened.html' title='What Just Happened?'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4092896947941751700</id><published>2011-01-04T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T22:48:44.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Allstate TV Ad: Tree Branch Mayhem</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="480" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/CocgDJJCBFI?fs=1" frameborder="0"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot begin to explain how much I love these commercials!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4092896947941751700?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4092896947941751700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4092896947941751700' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4092896947941751700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4092896947941751700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/01/allstate-tv-ad-tree-branch-mayhem.html' title='Allstate TV Ad: Tree Branch Mayhem'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/CocgDJJCBFI/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-3441610613687469505</id><published>2011-01-04T20:39:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T21:16:30.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Be Right or To Not Be?</title><content type='html'>The most aggravating conversations or arguments are usually those that are based on something that is a matter of opinion or faith. You could spend hours debating whether or not there is a God or when life "begins." Ultimately neither is an argument that anyone will likely win in this lifetime.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before I explain the next part let me explain that like most people, I don't enjoy being wrong and try to avoid it, but I will admit when the fault in logic is mine. I am in no way saying that I am a perfect being, ask anyone who knows me and they will confirm my long list of faults.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; The last couple of years I have been foolishly engaged in another kind of aggravating conversation, the one where there is a clear correct or incorrect answer or it simply has no bearing at all. However, the opponent through ignorance, obstinacy, or delusion, refuses to concede. The most annoying thing about this is that the subject matter is usually something with no relevance to important things in life. Once it was which container may be used to water plants. In the end does it really matter? I doubt you will see greenery protesting because I used a large pitcher instead of a small one. I like the big one because I don't have to fill it as often and I get done faster.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some reason I continue to try to reason with my opponent in a rational manner, even though as I do it I know my opponent is not rational. I have had the most meaningless arguments. A few of my favorites:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;English toffee does not taste the same if the almonds are on the bottom rather than the top of the toffee. (I suggested just turning it over if it would make them feel better)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Drinking any sort of beverage in the car is strictly verboten because it is against the law. I am even talking about water here. (I asked why there where cup holders and never got an answer)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Laundry must be watched. Soap does NOT go in until all the water is in so you can determine the exact amount of detergent. (I just put some in and turn the thing on my clothes have always gotten clean)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If something is on sale you must buy it, because who knows when it will be again. (I disagree because I don't see the point in buying cream of chicken soup when you already have 42 cans, some dating back to the early 1990's)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bathroom tile is to be covered in wall-to-wall carpet because it is easier to clean. (Really?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Married people should not be associating with people other than their family and spouses, EVER. (I have some married friends that I spend time with occasionally and this always seems to be scandalous.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A hotel does not exist if someone has never heard of it. (This was one of the more ridiculous as it is not difficult to prove that a hotel exists.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;I admit that even though I know it is useless to engage in these conversations I still find myself trying to defend a decision that with anyone else would not have been questioned. I think that I keep hoping that one day, just maybe, rationality will strike like lightning and save me from discussing ad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nauseam&lt;/span&gt; how best to open a box of cereal. A girl can dream, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-3441610613687469505?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/3441610613687469505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=3441610613687469505' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3441610613687469505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3441610613687469505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2011/01/to-be-right-or-to-not-be.html' title='To Be Right or To Not Be?'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4621914520682082002</id><published>2010-12-28T09:16:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T09:41:18.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRoSWT__anI/AAAAAAAAATw/51ngyVr4oyo/s1600/DSC04020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRoSWT__anI/AAAAAAAAATw/51ngyVr4oyo/s200/DSC04020.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555773264850020978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRoSWc_ARPI/AAAAAAAAATo/613rljEVM4I/s1600/DSC04025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRoSWc_ARPI/AAAAAAAAATo/613rljEVM4I/s200/DSC04025.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555773267261801714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRoSWFsTd3I/AAAAAAAAATg/2umHzstPUIw/s1600/DSC04069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRoSWFsTd3I/AAAAAAAAATg/2umHzstPUIw/s200/DSC04069.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555773261009352562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year for Christmas I went to Belgrade Montana. It is a suburb of Bozeman and is now home to two of my favorite adults and definitely my three favorite little ones. Is there anything better than watching kids open presents? They are so excited! I can't remember the last time I was so excited about getting a present that I screamed. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was also the first time I had been to my sister's house in 7 years. It sounds insanely long, but every time I have seen her and the family they have been visiting us. She has a beautiful home and I was glad I got to see it. Montana is also pretty great. To get there we had to drive through Yellowstone since it was pitch dark, snowy and foggy I missed the view. Luckily the return trip was a daytime trip so I got to see the scenery. But the best part was just hanging out with my family. We played cards, laughed, ate and relaxed. It was something I really needed and I am glad I got to go even if it was for only 3-1/2 days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&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/4707076319144097955-4621914520682082002?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4621914520682082002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4621914520682082002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4621914520682082002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4621914520682082002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-2010.html' title='Christmas 2010'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRoSWT__anI/AAAAAAAAATw/51ngyVr4oyo/s72-c/DSC04020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4327080509750875229</id><published>2010-12-28T00:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T00:12:00.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evolution</title><content type='html'>I would like to discuss for a moment, evolution. Not in the "did we descend from monkeys" kind or even my favorite "music's evolution through the ages" kind.  No, instead I speak of relationships. I foolishly thought that as I matured and so did the people around me, that relationships would be easier. Man was I wrong! Even at 29 and 3/4 of age, dating still makes me feel like an angsty teenager. Instead there is a whole NEW level of worries. Instead of the normal worries about making a good impression I now have the added worry of not scaring someone. At this point in my life I know what things are important to me in a mate and have to admit that I am getting a little impatient. I want to meet someone and fast forward to the part where we both know each other well enough that it would be "easy" to tell if the relationship has lasting power. So I have to reign in my natural tendency to leap before I look, to spill everything about me all at once and allow things to progress at a more "normal" pace. It would be great if there was some kind of scientific formula. Just think about how great that would be! It would look something like this:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Age of Male + Age of Female divided by 2, multiply Male's longest relationship + Female's longest relationship (in months) divided by the median of how many children the two want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRmMGETANII/AAAAAAAAASw/unIlC8x5nx0/s1600/Formula.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 104px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRmMGETANII/AAAAAAAAASw/unIlC8x5nx0/s320/Formula.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555625651198768258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The end number would be a relationship score, kind of like a credit score and the higher the number the more positive the outcome. So maybe I have oversimplified and taken some liberties but at the moment I am feeling pretty frustrated. I would love to think up a formula for first contact to dating to marriage timeline, but I am all thought out right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4327080509750875229?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4327080509750875229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4327080509750875229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4327080509750875229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4327080509750875229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/12/evolution.html' title='Evolution'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRmMGETANII/AAAAAAAAASw/unIlC8x5nx0/s72-c/Formula.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-8064429676284034984</id><published>2010-12-27T10:32:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T10:36:24.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog Love!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOHUEockI/AAAAAAAAASo/tk1LPMRl5PA/s1600/0803141415.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOHUEockI/AAAAAAAAASo/tk1LPMRl5PA/s320/0803141415.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555416765404049986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Fishy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOHB1141I/AAAAAAAAASg/dWtw_q4bXtg/s1600/0803141634.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOHB1141I/AAAAAAAAASg/dWtw_q4bXtg/s320/0803141634.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555416760510178130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Soda&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOHDOO8dI/AAAAAAAAASY/D6o50_3ooQ4/s1600/0806211141.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/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOHDOO8dI/AAAAAAAAASY/D6o50_3ooQ4/s320/0806211141.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555416760880918994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Rosie aka Marley aka the Beast&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOGk9iYZI/AAAAAAAAASQ/dqAQum6gouQ/s1600/0813143735.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOGk9iYZI/AAAAAAAAASQ/dqAQum6gouQ/s320/0813143735.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555416752757825938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Penny&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOGfU4mwI/AAAAAAAAASI/b7Wyv-2Eth0/s1600/0818134911.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOGfU4mwI/AAAAAAAAASI/b7Wyv-2Eth0/s320/0818134911.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555416751245138690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Diesel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-8064429676284034984?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/8064429676284034984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=8064429676284034984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8064429676284034984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8064429676284034984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/12/dog-love.html' title='Dog Love!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TRjOHUEockI/AAAAAAAAASo/tk1LPMRl5PA/s72-c/0803141415.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-3985652017285258899</id><published>2010-12-27T09:15:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T10:37:17.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip!</title><content type='html'>Keys to a successful road trip:&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go with people you can stand to be with for hours. It is helpful if you are comfortable enough with your travel partners to have long periods of silence and not feel awkward.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Layer your wardrobe, that way if you don't like the temperature the driver has chosen you can add or subtract as needed.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;over pack&lt;/span&gt; the car with luggage OR people. Even if you are not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;claustrophobic&lt;/span&gt; hours at a time in a confined space can get irritating .&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bring something to do. If you don't get carsick bring a book. I get carsick so I knit, that way I don't have to take my eyes off the road but still keep my hands occupied.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;T-U-N-E-S are vital. There should be some kind of agreement over who controls them. Usually it is the driver. This also means that you may have to suffer through some music you don't like. Deal with it or bring an iPod so you can tune it out. I have found that classic rock is usually universal. Who doesn't love some classic Hall &amp;amp; Oates or Queen?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Snacks. Even if you buy your own prepare to share, it is common courtesy. Beef jerky is always a favorite because it is substantial and staves off hunger between stops. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Drinks. The key is moderation because you don't want to stop unless you have to. So if you get a big drink, pace yourself.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Car games. You can do the license plate game where you find different states, the billboard game, and I Spy. My new favorite one is as you pass cars that have the built in DVD players, try and figure out what movie they are watching. It helps if you know a lot of children's movies by sight.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-3985652017285258899?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/3985652017285258899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=3985652017285258899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3985652017285258899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3985652017285258899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/12/road-trip.html' title='Road Trip!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-7627667580115061329</id><published>2010-11-23T21:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T22:04:41.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New School Year, Belated Edition</title><content type='html'>Yay for having a job! This summer was not the best because I didn't have a job and I was going a little stir crazy, so when school finally started I was very ready. I knew things in my classroom were going to be very different this year because we hired someone new to work with us and some of our stronger personality students had moved on to junior high. The first week of school was amazing! And the second, and the third, and the fourth. I just kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some of these students will have been with me for now going on their 3rd school year. There are definite advantages and disadvantages to this kind of arrangement. But so far we were having none of the behavior problems or classroom dramas. I was almost uncertain what to do. I knew eventually that would have to change and it has. I do have some new students and figuring out how they fit into everything has been interesting. The dynamics of a classroom can change so much just based on one person, teacher or student. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we head into Thanksgiving I wonder where the time has gone. It seems like not too long ago that I was sweating profusely because our classroom was so hot. Now I have to worry about the kids throwing snow at each other! Kids still say the darndest things so more of those posts to come later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-7627667580115061329?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/7627667580115061329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=7627667580115061329' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7627667580115061329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7627667580115061329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/11/new-school-year-belated-edition.html' title='New School Year, Belated Edition'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1244040990357127200</id><published>2010-11-23T21:40:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T21:52:46.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy, busy!</title><content type='html'>Okay, I have been busy since June. My sister and her family moved from Ohio and I was so excited because my niece and nephew were going to be close enough to visit regularly! And then on September 16 I got a new nephew besides. I have loved having my niece and nephews so close. I don't think there is anything greater than a small child being excited just because you walk through the door. And is there any way to describe how delightful it is to hold a brand new baby?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TOyZeQhlIcI/AAAAAAAAAR8/oBYSIs3COh0/s1600/Aubree%2B%2526%2BGarrett%2B10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TOyZeQhlIcI/AAAAAAAAAR8/oBYSIs3COh0/s200/Aubree%2B%2526%2BGarrett%2B10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542973986497176002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TOyZdwdf64I/AAAAAAAAAR0/a5f1mP09Ey4/s1600/Darren.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TOyZdwdf64I/AAAAAAAAAR0/a5f1mP09Ey4/s200/Darren.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542973977890122626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TOyZd52Ae3I/AAAAAAAAARs/4VlrIqDir7Q/s1600/Cute.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TOyZd52Ae3I/AAAAAAAAARs/4VlrIqDir7Q/s200/Cute.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542973980408839026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now for the bad news. They have moved again! My brother-in-law was offered a job in Montana and so after only 5 months they are gone. :( I will miss seeing them whenever I wanted to but I will always remember these months fondly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/4707076319144097955-1244040990357127200?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1244040990357127200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1244040990357127200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1244040990357127200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1244040990357127200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/11/busy-busy.html' title='Busy, busy!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TOyZeQhlIcI/AAAAAAAAAR8/oBYSIs3COh0/s72-c/Aubree%2B%2526%2BGarrett%2B10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1564981559078109482</id><published>2010-06-28T11:46:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T11:47:44.742-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Coolest Commercial Ever!</title><content type='html'>Just saw this and laughed my head off. Hope you enjoy it, be sure to listen to the lyrics. Classic.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sQ0M9CBEkw0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sQ0M9CBEkw0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-1564981559078109482?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1564981559078109482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1564981559078109482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1564981559078109482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1564981559078109482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/06/coolest-commercial-ever.html' title='Coolest Commercial Ever!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5413879501554064952</id><published>2010-06-27T11:54:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T12:28:38.686-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Movie Kisses</title><content type='html'>I have been feeling a little despondent and therefore watching a lot of chick flicks. Here is a list of the best movie kisses, in no particular order.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Christina Ricci and James McAvoy in &lt;i&gt;Penelope&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Edward Norton and Jessica Biel in &lt;i&gt;The Illusionist&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gerard Butler and Hilary Swank in &lt;i&gt;P.S. I Love You&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Amy Adams and Matthew Goode in &lt;i&gt;Leap Year&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hugh Grant and Sandra Bullock in &lt;i&gt;Two Weeks Notice&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore in &lt;i&gt;Music &amp;amp; Lyrics&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Meg Ryan and Tim Robbins in &lt;i&gt;I.Q.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Val Kilmer and Elisabeth Shue in &lt;i&gt;The Saint&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Harrison Ford and Julia Ormond in &lt;i&gt;Sabrina&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Julia Ormond and Steve Carrell in &lt;i&gt;Dan in Real Life&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;See any I might have missed? Let me know!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5413879501554064952?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5413879501554064952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5413879501554064952' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5413879501554064952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5413879501554064952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/06/best-movie-kisses.html' title='Best Movie Kisses'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1853954330263070448</id><published>2010-06-26T12:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T12:56:20.773-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Movies of the Last 29 Years</title><content type='html'>1981- Raiders of the Lost Ark&lt;div&gt;1982- E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial&lt;div&gt;1983- A Christmas Story&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1984- Ghostbusters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1985- Back To the Future&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1986- Stand By Me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1987- Princess Bride&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1988- Die Hard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1989- Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1990-Edward Scissorhands&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1991- Silence of the Lambs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1992- Aladdin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1993- The Fugitive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1994- Shawshank Redemption&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1995- Apollo 13&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1996- Shine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1997- Titanic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1998- The Truman Show&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1999- The Sixth Sense&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2000- Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2001- Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2002- Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2003- Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2004- The Incredibles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2005- Batman Begins&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2006- Casino Royale&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2007- Ratatouille&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2008- Iron Man&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2009- Star Trek&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-1853954330263070448?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1853954330263070448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1853954330263070448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1853954330263070448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1853954330263070448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/06/top-movies-of-last-29-years.html' title='Top Movies of the Last 29 Years'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1470605377826849799</id><published>2010-06-24T22:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T22:47:37.001-06:00</updated><title type='text'>All You Need Is Love!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TCQzzng4q2I/AAAAAAAAARE/aeP6XG18FSI/s1600/Love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 333px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TCQzzng4q2I/AAAAAAAAARE/aeP6XG18FSI/s200/Love.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486567207917366114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My mom emailed me this picture along with some others. None of these animals were previously acquainted. All of them were rescued from the debris from the recent tornado in Kansas. Four dogs and one cat, comforting each other. Proof that we all CAN get along!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-1470605377826849799?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1470605377826849799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1470605377826849799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1470605377826849799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1470605377826849799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/06/all-you-need-is-love.html' title='All You Need Is Love!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/TCQzzng4q2I/AAAAAAAAARE/aeP6XG18FSI/s72-c/Love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-261191151296852984</id><published>2010-06-24T22:31:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T22:40:43.981-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>To offset my previous post here are some things I enjoy:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nighttime cool summer breezes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The commercial for Lipton green tea with citrus song. Love it. Also the AT&amp;amp;T song to which I cannot find the name of the artist for. AND the brilliant use of the song from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory on another commercial.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cold fresh tasty water straight out of the tap.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Large dogs that like to cuddle on couches with me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Great movies. Last year's standout was Star Trek for me. This year I have thoroughly enjoyed A-Team, The Losers, Prince of Persia and I am looking forward to Knight and Day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Reading. I have recently returned to the public library system and enjoy finding new things to read.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;MUSIC! Technically this should have been first on the list, but last will work too. The only problem with my new favorite music is that I have to listen online because it's all lesser known artists and therefore not available very widely in Utah.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-261191151296852984?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/261191151296852984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=261191151296852984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/261191151296852984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/261191151296852984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/06/favorite-things.html' title='Favorite Things'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-2146746419200170492</id><published>2010-06-23T13:40:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T22:31:47.818-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pet Peeves</title><content type='html'>My dad and I were talking the other day about our pet peeves so I decided to make a list. Hope it's not too long or unreasonable!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Time leftover on the microwave. If you don't use it all, zero it out.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People, especially women, who ask if I am crabby because of "women problems." It's offensive and downright rude. Perhaps I am just having a bad day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dry hands, feet and elbows. Mostly on me, but occasionally on other people. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People who try and argue with me about things that are totally opinion based and therefore can have no winner. I won't argue with you, I accept that you have a different opinion, please return the favor. (Ex. sports teams, movies, music, etc.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The mocking of my penchant for radio stations that don't pander to or assume that people are dumb. When did intelligence become a bad thing?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bad spelling. I don't claim to be great, but I know how to use spell check. A recent example was the dating profile I was looking at that proclaimed the guy to be a "knight in shinning armor." Shinning! Sorry, I will hold out for shining armor, not armor meant for the lower legs.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-2146746419200170492?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/2146746419200170492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=2146746419200170492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2146746419200170492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2146746419200170492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/06/pet-peeves.html' title='Pet Peeves'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5666529406648317036</id><published>2010-06-12T23:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T23:38:05.581-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally Over</title><content type='html'>Well, that's it. The school year is over. I was ecstatic and sad. In my class of 12 I had 6 of my students moving on to junior high. The other 6 get to have me next year too! Aren't they lucky? I am excited for the break but am having a hard time without a job to ground me in reality. I don't even know what day it is anymore! I have a bunch of stuff to share so look for more in the days to come. Toodles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5666529406648317036?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5666529406648317036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5666529406648317036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5666529406648317036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5666529406648317036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/06/finally-over.html' title='Finally Over'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-6597633174288054061</id><published>2010-06-12T23:27:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T23:27:43.553-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lovin' It!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/59zh09eLXIE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/59zh09eLXIE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-6597633174288054061?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/6597633174288054061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=6597633174288054061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6597633174288054061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6597633174288054061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/06/lovin-it.html' title='Lovin&apos; It!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-899132692195849288</id><published>2010-04-13T19:51:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T20:15:08.550-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Say the Darndest Things Vol. 5</title><content type='html'>A1: Do you ever wish you were married?&lt;div&gt;Me: Sure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A1: You  are just waiting for the right guy. Someone who loves animals. And is nice to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Is that too much to ask?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A1: And not gay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J1: Stupid Rastas*!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: J, we don't call people names. You need to apologize.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J1: I was using it as an adjective, NOT a noun!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(At least I know he is learning something in my reading group?!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A5: Did you know that Marco Polo is actually one person?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A4: "I like big butts and I cannot lie, you other brothers can deny, when a girl walks in ....."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this point I stopped him and suggested that the song he was singing was not really appropriate for school. His reply? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A4: But I'm singing to attract me some honeys! Do you think it will work?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*Name changed to protect the relatively innocent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-899132692195849288?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/899132692195849288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=899132692195849288' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/899132692195849288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/899132692195849288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/04/kids-say-darndest-things-vol-5.html' title='Kids Say the Darndest Things Vol. 5'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-961898992337049632</id><published>2010-04-01T16:57:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T20:12:19.671-06:00</updated><title type='text'>IF...</title><content type='html'>If I had health insurance:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I would take care of the carpal tunnel and tendonitis that has plagued me for 12 years.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I would go to a dermatologist to check out some of the suspicious moles I have.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I could replace the pieces and parts of my CPAP machine that should be replaced every 6 months.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I would not have to turn to WebMD where I inexorably can't decide whether I have something serious like boils or just a zit. (Luckily it was just a zit)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I would not be terrified that the chunk of my thumb that was just taken by a rusty nail would turn into tetanus, leading to a hospital stay and inevitably, death.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Those "lady doctor" visits that I have never had could become a dream come true.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I could have the strange vertigo that I have been having with increasing frequency diagnosed or at least explained.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I would know for sure that the electrical impulses I can actually hear and feel going up my spinal cord are not a figment of my imagination.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;M-I-G-R-A-I-N-E-S. Perhaps a solution?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-961898992337049632?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/961898992337049632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=961898992337049632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/961898992337049632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/961898992337049632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/04/if.html' title='IF...'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-8935772502691777816</id><published>2010-03-29T20:41:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T20:44:01.184-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Festival of Colors March 27, 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="visibility:visible;"&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widget-ae.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" height="475" width="600" style="width:600px;height:475px"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://widget-ae.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;param name="scale" value="noscale" /&gt;&lt;param name="salign" value="l" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"/&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="cy=ms&amp;il=1&amp;channel=3386706919826957486&amp;site=widget-ae.slide.com"/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p style="white-space:nowrap"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;at=un&amp;id=3386706919826957486&amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-ae.slide.com/p1/3386706919826957486/ms_t001_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;at=un&amp;id=3386706919826957486&amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-ae.slide.com/p2/3386706919826957486/ms_t001_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;at=un&amp;id=3386706919826957486&amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-ae.slide.com/p4/3386706919826957486/ms_t001_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-8935772502691777816?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/8935772502691777816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=8935772502691777816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8935772502691777816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8935772502691777816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/03/festival-of-colors-march-27-2010.html' title='Festival of Colors March 27, 2010'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1635847822197324808</id><published>2010-03-27T19:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T19:54:52.811-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Say the Darndest Things Vol. 4</title><content type='html'>Some more gems that have come my way of late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A1: "Look! It's snowing. Hurry, someone hug me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J1: "Epic snow! Thank you for your epicness."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J2: "Were watches invented when you were little?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A4: " You're a woman, right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F: "My cousin says your crazy because you won't teach me times tables."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Well, I can't teach you those until know your addition and subtraction."&lt;br /&gt;F: "Do I really have to know those first?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this one from a recent episode of America's Funniest Home Videos. I will set the scene, children are approaching the pulpit of a Baptist church and saying things about Easter. Afterwards they receive some candy before the sit down. One child approaches the microphone and says, "I did not prepare a speech. I would like my candy anyway." So funny!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-1635847822197324808?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1635847822197324808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1635847822197324808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1635847822197324808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1635847822197324808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/03/kids-say-darndest-things-vol-4.html' title='Kids Say the Darndest Things Vol. 4'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4019139851716375807</id><published>2010-03-25T19:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T19:44:29.080-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Signs You Live With an Octogenarian</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Your tupperware is one of two things A) actual Tupperware brand purchased 30 years ago, or B) cottage cheese and yogurt containers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You are asked at least once a week to "Smell this, tell me if it's ok," because they don't trust expiration dates.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ziploc bags are to be washed out so they can be reused.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Spices are in tin canisters which have not been manufactured for over 15 years according to the manufacturer.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You now have 6 packages of dried mango because, "They were on sale." This can apply to anything food related that you don't need. Like two more cans of cream of chicken soup.... even though you already have 45 cans.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cooking oil is refrigerated along with Bisquick.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Music other than Michael Buble, Josh Groban, the Mormon Tabernacle choir or classical music is "noise."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You have collectible Avon cologne and perfume bottles in your basement.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Certain carpet is NOT for walking on because the carpet is new...... 20 years ago.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tiled bathrooms have been covered with wall-to-wall carpet.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dress ups boxes also include old pill boxes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are National Geographics dating back to the early '70's in your home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are so many pill bottles in the bathroom that you actually &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;could&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; open your own pharmacy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Favorite TV shows are still recorded on VHS.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Plastic silverware is collected to be washed and used again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Putting a hot dish out of the oven onto the stovetop is NOT allowed. It may ruin the stovetop by scratching it. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Your measuring cups are metal and possibly rusty.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Any gathering of young people consisting of more than 3 people is a "wild party."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Plans for dinner include a suggestion of something, only then to find the ingredients and recipe laid out for you to make.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Common words you hear are "gallivanting," and "shennanigans" in relation to your social life.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4019139851716375807?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4019139851716375807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4019139851716375807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4019139851716375807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4019139851716375807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/03/signs-you-live-with-octogenarian.html' title='Signs You Live With an Octogenarian'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4085003462764910630</id><published>2010-03-23T23:55:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T00:07:20.632-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Beware of Identity Theft!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpzvH-zII/AAAAAAAAAQ0/juDFbnJ1zCA/s1600/00016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452075530197060738" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpzvH-zII/AAAAAAAAAQ0/juDFbnJ1zCA/s200/00016.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpzG-WWvI/AAAAAAAAAQk/AR3lcrkDc1E/s1600/00013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452075519419243250" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpzG-WWvI/AAAAAAAAAQk/AR3lcrkDc1E/s200/00013.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpzVXv13I/AAAAAAAAAQs/ya61I1tCQt8/s1600/00015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452075523283867506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpzVXv13I/AAAAAAAAAQs/ya61I1tCQt8/s200/00015.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpydYWsgI/AAAAAAAAAQc/4yK2_SjiOS8/s1600/00009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452075508254028290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpydYWsgI/AAAAAAAAAQc/4yK2_SjiOS8/s200/00009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpyArRrWI/AAAAAAAAAQU/5JtcfCQx0yo/s1600/00001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452075500548762978" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpyArRrWI/AAAAAAAAAQU/5JtcfCQx0yo/s200/00001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mrzsTMMAI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/m3MwYnv98WE/s1600/00011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452077728462024706" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mrzsTMMAI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/m3MwYnv98WE/s200/00011.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love animals, especially soft furry ones. I got an email warning me about identity theft and these were the pictures that accompanied it. I just want to pick them all up because they are so darn cute. It make me miss my dog, Fishy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4085003462764910630?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4085003462764910630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4085003462764910630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4085003462764910630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4085003462764910630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/03/beware-of-identity-theft.html' title='Beware of Identity Theft!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S6mpzvH-zII/AAAAAAAAAQ0/juDFbnJ1zCA/s72-c/00016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-9080660569878586699</id><published>2010-03-22T23:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T23:20:41.730-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>I've had a pretty awful couple of days and needed to remind myself of the good things. So, for my sake a list of some of my favorite things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The pet background on the Weather Channel Desktop app, especially the boxer one.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sunshine and soft grass. Particularly after a long walk.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The smell of clean sheets, silky pillowcases and my pillowtop bed.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Good friends that let you cry to them on the phone.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Random notes that let you know someone thinks about you.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Leftover Chinese food, cold.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Great music that is best heard through headphones.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Unexpected visits from far-off family.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cold fresh water for drinking.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sunday meetings that rejuvenate my soul.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-9080660569878586699?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/9080660569878586699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=9080660569878586699' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/9080660569878586699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/9080660569878586699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-favorite-things.html' title='My Favorite Things'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5797947693670191326</id><published>2010-03-15T22:52:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T22:52:09.369-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kutiman-Thru-you -  03 - I'm New</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/EsBfj6khrG4' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/EsBfj6khrG4'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The mother of all mash-ups. The music is made up ENTIRELY of a mash-up of the audio and video from YouTube videos.This guy is a total genius! Check out the rest of his stuff on YouTube, just search for Kutiman-Thru-You&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5797947693670191326?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5797947693670191326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5797947693670191326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5797947693670191326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5797947693670191326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/03/kutiman-thru-you-03-i-new_15.html' title='Kutiman-Thru-you -  03 - I&amp;#39;m New'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-7414628917047279350</id><published>2010-03-10T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T00:03:25.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Could Fill Books!!</title><content type='html'>A quote from the movie Ratatouille: "You could fill a book - a lot of books - with things Dad doesn't know. And they have." Well here are a few things I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; I don't know why kids think they can lie to me. I have witnessed with my own eyes one kid hitting another and the hitter will staunchly defend himself, knowing full well that I saw him.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't know why people like Jell-O so much. Is it because it is cheap? Because frankly, it all kind of creeps me out. Jell-O pudding is fine, but that weirdly translucent gooey stuff that is supposed to be food? And why have people gone to such lengths to fill it with odd stuff? Like the lime Jell-O with carrots and walnuts in it? Ewww.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't know why my favorite (and pricey) Chinese restaurant has the BEST food in the world, but the WORST spring rolls. The spring rolls I get at the elementary school cafeteria are much better. Kinda sad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't know why certain networks (ie CBS) have not jumped on the Hulu bandwagon. It annoys me to have to wade through their poorly designed website to find what I am looking for. Also any network not willing to stream full episodes online. Join the future of television!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't know why I continue to get Spam mail addressed to "Dan" and usually advertising things related to being male. I don't know any men, nor have I heard of any, named Danica.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't know why certain adults in my life have suddenly realized that they know all these single attractive men they can set me up with. Perhaps it's because I am now less than 365 days from reaching the age of 30?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-7414628917047279350?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/7414628917047279350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=7414628917047279350' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7414628917047279350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7414628917047279350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/03/you-could-fill-books.html' title='You Could Fill Books!!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-8338780364324138289</id><published>2010-03-07T21:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T21:13:08.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Talking Animals</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/xaPepCVepCg' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/xaPepCVepCg'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sooooo funny!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-8338780364324138289?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/8338780364324138289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=8338780364324138289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8338780364324138289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8338780364324138289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/03/funny-talking-animals.html' title='Funny Talking Animals'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-8583401040305024175</id><published>2010-03-07T20:50:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T21:09:53.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone and Hopefully Forgotten</title><content type='html'>I saw something today that used to be somewhat fashionable and has since disappeared. And after seeing it again today I am convinced it should stay that way. So in honor of the rat tail I saw today, here is my list of the thing that are (or should be) gone and should stay forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rat tails. Short hair everywhere but that really long piece in the back. Ewww.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mullets. I have started to see children at my school with these. Another eww.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chuck Norris. Seriously. All the Chuck Norris stuff. Can't stand it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The giant spoiler on your car. At some point it begins to look like a purse handle like some giant could pick up your car and carry it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ugs. I don't even know if that's how you spell it, but they are just boots. Why are you wearing giant boots and shorts? It just looks dumb.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Overly bleached hair almost to the point of being white instead of blond, especially on boys. For some reason this has become a trend at my elementary school. No one under the age of 12 should be dying their hair. There is no reason.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Giant headphones. Technology has improved, you don't need to wear traffic controller earphones to listen to your itty-bitty iPod Shuffle.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bret Michaels. Poison had some good songs back in the day, but must we drag their frontman away from his trashy harem to test out his "business" sense on The Apprentice?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-8583401040305024175?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/8583401040305024175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=8583401040305024175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8583401040305024175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8583401040305024175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/03/gone-and-hopefully-forgotten.html' title='Gone and Hopefully Forgotten'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-6037217728552425380</id><published>2010-03-05T07:09:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T17:17:56.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to my Roommate</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Deep in our Refrigerator&lt;/strong&gt; by Jack Prelutsky*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep in our refrigerator,&lt;br /&gt;there's a special place&lt;br /&gt;for food that's been around awhile...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;[she]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; keep&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;[s]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; it just in case.&lt;br /&gt;"It's probably too old to eat,"&lt;br /&gt;my &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[roommate]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; likes to say.&lt;br /&gt;"But I don't think it's old enough&lt;br /&gt;for me to throw away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It stays there for a month or more&lt;br /&gt;to ripen in the cold&lt;br /&gt;and soon &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[I]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; notice fuzzy clumps&lt;br /&gt;of multicolored mold.&lt;br /&gt;The clumps are larger every day,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[I]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; notice this as well,&lt;br /&gt;but mostly what &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[I]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; notice&lt;br /&gt;is a certain special smell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When finally it all becomes&lt;br /&gt;a nasty mass of slime,&lt;br /&gt;my &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[roommate]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; takes it out, and says,&lt;br /&gt;"Apparently, it's time."&lt;br /&gt;She dumps it in the garbage can,&lt;br /&gt;though not without regret,&lt;br /&gt;then fills the space with other food&lt;br /&gt;that's not so ancient yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*Edits and emphasis added for comedic effect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-6037217728552425380?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/6037217728552425380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=6037217728552425380' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6037217728552425380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6037217728552425380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/03/ode-to-my-roommate.html' title='Ode to my Roommate'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-7582044756407352295</id><published>2010-02-28T22:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T22:57:10.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Say the Darndest Things, Vol.3</title><content type='html'>Kid J2: Dream on, Drama Queen. (Said to me when I asked him not to push other kids at recess)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid A3: (whispering to other kids) She drinks Diet Coke so that she won't hit us.&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Why do you think Leonardo DaVinci wrote from right to left instead of left to right which is how we write?&lt;br /&gt;Kid J: Because he had 5 fingers on his left hand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid A1: You call it fun, I call it torture!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid J: Will you please make me cry so that I don't have to go to the assembly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid J: You cannot correct me because I am right always!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*I have not, nor will I ever hit children! For some reason this kid associates my mood with whether or not I have had my Diet Coke for the day. I can neither confirm nor deny that my level of frustration depends on Diet Coke.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-7582044756407352295?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/7582044756407352295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=7582044756407352295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7582044756407352295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7582044756407352295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/02/kids-say-darndest-things-vol3.html' title='Kids Say the Darndest Things, Vol.3'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-8377737339697274710</id><published>2010-02-21T22:06:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T00:12:34.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great TV Quotes II</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Big Bang Theory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sheldon: I believe you know why I'm here.&lt;br /&gt;Penny: I always figured it was to study us, discover our weaknesses, and report back to your alien overlords.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sheldon: The four of you are three of my closest friends, and one treasured acquaintance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sheldon: Given that St. Valentine was a 3rd century Roman priest who was stoned and beheaded, wouldn't a more appropriate celebration of the evening be taking one's steady gal to witness a brutal murder?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leonard: When we watch Frosty the Snowman, he roots for the sun.&lt;br /&gt;Sheldon: Excuse me, but the sun is essential for all life on earth. Frosty is merely a bit of frozen, supernatural ephemera in a stolen hat. A crime, by the way, for which he is never brought to account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Modern Family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manny: You have a laugh that makes science lab seem like recess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil: You know how in a fairy tale there's always a potion that makes the princess fall asleep and then the guys start kissing her? Well, this is like that except you don't wake up in a castle — you wake up in a frat house with a bad reputation. {referring to alcohol}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gloria: Every culture has their own traditions. For example, in our culture, the Baby Jesus is the one that brings the presents, not the Santa Claus.&lt;br /&gt;Jay: That's doesn't make sense. How could a new born baby carry all those presents? They don't even know where their hands are.&lt;br /&gt;Manny: At least a baby could fit through a chimney.&lt;br /&gt;Jay: How could you sit on the Baby Jesus' lap? You'd squish him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Community&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winger: She has more fights about something that doesn't matter than a Youtube comments channel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff: Vaughn doesn't ever wear shoes or a shirt. How has he not died from a lack of service?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shirley: I believe that fusing brownies with the Internet is going to create the next Napster for brownies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff: Can't I be the friend in the group whose trademark is his well-defined boundaries like Privacy Smurf, Discrete Bear or Confidentiality Spice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Office&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: Did you see Saw?&lt;br /&gt;Dwight: Of course I seesaw, Mose and I seesaw all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Michael: How's everybody doing?&lt;br /&gt;Jim: Not great. You heckled Santa for an hour and a half.&lt;br /&gt;Michael: That was a different guy. That was Jesus. Jesus ruined the party. Petulant Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;Angela: Are you serious? That is so offensive.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: Okay. So, um. Listen. I know about your diabolical plan.&lt;br /&gt;Dwight: What?! "Diabolical plan?" I wouldn't even know how to begin-&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: [holds up My Diabolical Plan by Dwight K. Schrute] I found a copy of it in the copier tray.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dwight: In an ideal world I would have all 10 fingers on my left hand so my right hand could just be a fist for punching. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-8377737339697274710?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/8377737339697274710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=8377737339697274710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8377737339697274710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8377737339697274710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/02/great-tv-quotes-ii.html' title='Great TV Quotes II'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-995386889807246919</id><published>2010-02-16T07:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T07:47:58.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Muppets: Bohemian Rhapsody</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/tgbNymZ7vqY' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/tgbNymZ7vqY'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Found my new favorite channel on YouTube!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-995386889807246919?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/995386889807246919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=995386889807246919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/995386889807246919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/995386889807246919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/02/muppets-bohemian-rhapsody.html' title='The Muppets: Bohemian Rhapsody'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-752222818539950147</id><published>2010-02-14T12:45:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T13:38:15.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things Remembered</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hZ-CqrW6I/AAAAAAAAAPs/QmRbCwwh1OE/s1600-h/slap-bracelets.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A trip down memory lane was inevitable with my birthday coming up especially since it is my last birthday in my twenties. Here are a few things I don't want to forget: &lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Glowworms! I loved that thing when I was a kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rainbow Bright, who ended up being used by the neighborhood kids as a fun thing to run over with their car.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Slap bracelets, back when they were made of metal and could really hurt!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jelly shoes, the down side to them was if it was hot and your feet sweat, your feet would then slide around in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sewing classes where I learned all I needed to know to make my own pillowcases.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The awful black and brown carpet in the kitchen of my childhood home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Climbing on the top of the dog house to get on the roof when I wasn't supposed to!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;My fear of grapefruit knives after nearly slicing off my middle finger while trying to eat some grapes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The first time I saw my baby brother. I remember thinking that he was the fattest baby I had ever seen.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;My parents waterbed. Why did people ever think those were comfortable?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mazes in the backyard. My dad used to let the grass grow long and then use the lawnmower to carve mazes in the grass.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Homemade music videos. I have a very vivid memory of my sister and I with the two boys next door making a music video complete with "plot" to the song "Blackcat" by Janet Jackson.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hiding things in the drop-down ceiling of my bedroom.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sharing a room with my sister that also doubled as the laundry room and a bathroom. It was a big room, but interesting as far as functionality.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Driving the forklift when I was 12. Man that was scary!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Camping with the family in Yellowstone. This was also the trip that my Oma told me she had a dream about Pierce Brosnan and that "he was a good kisser." TMI!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Driving through farmland on a trip and yelling "Beef Jerky" at the cows as we passed.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chuck-a-rama every year with the extended family for my Opa's birthday. He loved that place.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Climbing the wall behind the house to pick cherries off the neighbor's tree.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-752222818539950147?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/752222818539950147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=752222818539950147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/752222818539950147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/752222818539950147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/02/things-remembered.html' title='Things Remembered'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-2254259916030485702</id><published>2010-02-14T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T13:42:20.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things Remembered Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hfz-Y7MgI/AAAAAAAAAP0/oNIgKgHpKos/s1600-h/Original-glowworm-photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 112px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438201896575382018" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hfz-Y7MgI/AAAAAAAAAP0/oNIgKgHpKos/s200/Original-glowworm-photo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hf0LfzXnI/AAAAAAAAAP8/UPoCaLJ3rUE/s1600-h/rainbow-brite-doll.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 136px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438201900093890162" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hf0LfzXnI/AAAAAAAAAP8/UPoCaLJ3rUE/s200/rainbow-brite-doll.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hf00OWC9I/AAAAAAAAAQM/BfN3sH8h5DY/s1600-h/slap-bracelets.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438201911026518994" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hf00OWC9I/AAAAAAAAAQM/BfN3sH8h5DY/s200/slap-bracelets.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hf0YC25zI/AAAAAAAAAQE/vuYsqKUF1cY/s1600-h/shoes_iaec1042194.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438201903462147890" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hf0YC25zI/AAAAAAAAAQE/vuYsqKUF1cY/s200/shoes_iaec1042194.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hf0YC25zI/AAAAAAAAAQE/vuYsqKUF1cY/s1600-h/shoes_iaec1042194.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-2254259916030485702?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/2254259916030485702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=2254259916030485702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2254259916030485702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2254259916030485702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/02/things-remembered-pictures.html' title='Things Remembered Pictures'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3hfz-Y7MgI/AAAAAAAAAP0/oNIgKgHpKos/s72-c/Original-glowworm-photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-6011982270021837740</id><published>2010-02-10T02:19:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T02:34:00.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like Sands Through the Hourglass.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3fAZkCIQqI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Pp0nGO-lqtk/s1600-h/life_quotes_graphics_04.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 278px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438026620475032226" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3fAZkCIQqI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Pp0nGO-lqtk/s400/life_quotes_graphics_04.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-6011982270021837740?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/6011982270021837740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=6011982270021837740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6011982270021837740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6011982270021837740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post.html' title='Like Sands Through the Hourglass.....'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S3fAZkCIQqI/AAAAAAAAAPE/Pp0nGO-lqtk/s72-c/life_quotes_graphics_04.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-3279541370294929883</id><published>2010-02-09T14:19:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T13:44:19.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Say the Darndest Things Vol. 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kid J: I want to go to the quiet area, will you please upset and disturb me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kid T: (to me) Are you getting married today? Me: Umm, no. What makes you think that?Kid T: Well you are wearing earrings today and you don't usually so I thought you might be getting married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kid F: Do you think I'm sexy? (This is an eleven year old asking me this!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kid A1: I'm pretty sure that everything in this whole book is boring as hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kid J: You are fired! I am calling the police so that they can fire you! I am going to sue the whole school!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kid A3: I don't like talking. Me: But everytime I try to teach you won't stop talking, but when I give you time specifically to talk you don't say a word. Kid A3: I think better when you teach and I talk.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-3279541370294929883?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/3279541370294929883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=3279541370294929883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3279541370294929883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3279541370294929883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/02/kids-say-darndest-things-vol-2.html' title='Kids Say the Darndest Things Vol. 2'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-2267361650949325127</id><published>2010-02-04T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T13:32:32.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Actor Transformations</title><content type='html'>My favorite actors/actresses are the ones that are versatile. People who disappear into the role and make you believe it. Here are a few of my favorites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Paul Reuben from PeeWee Herman to the sidekick vampire in Buffy the Vamire Slayer movie, to doubtful super-hero in Mystery Men.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Gary Oldman who was fabulous as Count Dracula, the villian in The Fifth Element and more recently Sirius Black in the Harry Potter movies.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Guy Pearce in Orson Well's Time Machine and then Alexander Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Robert DeNiro who went from tough CIA guy in Meet the Parents to cross-dressing pirate in Stardust.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jack Black who despite his often goofy antics was able to make me believe he could be someone's love interest in The Holiday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Emma Thompson who is equally comfortable as Nanny McPhee, Professor Trewlaney from Harry Potter, English lady, or as a tortured author in Stranger Than Fiction.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Amy Adams who uglied it up in Julie and Julia after being stunningly beautiful in Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day and in Enchanted.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Neil Patrick Harris who won my heart as kid doctor Doogie Howser to ladies man Barney Stinson on How I Met Your Mother.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don Cheadle as sexy criminal in the Ocean's movies to superspy in Traitor. (I love me an accent on a good looking man, killer combo.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Coming soon: WORST casting choices ever!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-2267361650949325127?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/2267361650949325127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=2267361650949325127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2267361650949325127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2267361650949325127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/02/favorite-actor-transformations.html' title='Favorite Actor Transformations'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-12191438591108320</id><published>2010-01-20T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T23:58:45.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Honolulu, Hawaii!!</title><content type='html'>Today my "baby" brother got his mission call. In 42 days he will be heading for Hawaii. It's all very exciting. I have decided to start saving my money now so that two years from now if the opportunity is there I can convince my parents to let me go with them to pick him up. I have never been and we used to talk about going as a family to see the Polynesian Cultural Center. I know he is excited because one; it's warm, and two; he will get to learn more about his Polynesian heritage. So three cheers to you brother!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1f6xw2cgrI/AAAAAAAAAO8/-5JdKzgNk8Y/s1600-h/Micah.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429083608652219058" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1f6xw2cgrI/AAAAAAAAAO8/-5JdKzgNk8Y/s320/Micah.bmp" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cassie Brook currently serving in the Lubbock, Texas mission with Micah Glenn soon to be serving in the Honolulu, Hawaii mission!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-12191438591108320?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/12191438591108320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=12191438591108320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/12191438591108320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/12191438591108320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/01/honolulu-hawaii.html' title='Honolulu, Hawaii!!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1f6xw2cgrI/AAAAAAAAAO8/-5JdKzgNk8Y/s72-c/Micah.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-8780267717295195039</id><published>2010-01-20T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T00:01:31.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shameful Confession</title><content type='html'>I am a hypocrite and there is something I just have to get out there. I used to mock my roommates for their devotion to a certain show. I thought it was silly and a waste of time. However, my new roommate has a habit of watching this show when we sit down to eat dinner. I blame her, but I have totally gotten sucked in!!! She herself says it is because nothing else is on but I don't believe her. So, my shameful confession? I am currently addicted to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;The Bachelor: On the Wings of Love&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-8780267717295195039?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/8780267717295195039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=8780267717295195039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8780267717295195039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/8780267717295195039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/01/shameful-confession.html' title='Shameful Confession'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-63483337992448123</id><published>2010-01-16T23:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T00:24:43.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great TV Quotes</title><content type='html'>There is some great comedy out there right now. Better Off Ted, Modern Family, Glee, and The Big Bang Theory are some of my favorites. Here are a few gems:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Modern Family:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Manny: In &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Colombia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, they open presents at midnight and stay up til morning.&lt;br /&gt;Jay: I'm sure they do, but if you notice from the absence of goats in the streets, we're not in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Colombia&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Mitchell: We were called Fire and Nice. I was called "Fire" because of the red hair and Claire was "Nice" because it was ironic and she wasn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Better Off Ted:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Veronica: Sorry, Ted. The company feels that if we ease up because someone dies, it will only encourage other people to die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Linda: I don't want to lose this job. What am I supposed to do, go back to &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Wisconsin&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; and work in the cheese mine? After I made that big speech, threw down my cheese shovel, and stormed out?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ted: We can have one conversation with Rose. Gently.&lt;br /&gt;Veronica: Fine. Let's get her up here, crack her open like a lobster claw, and scoop out her sweet white meat of information. Gently.&lt;br /&gt;Ted: I know you don't like to eat children, but it's that kind of talk and your cottage in the woods made of candy that keeps those rumors alive.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;The Big Bang Theory:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Leonard: I've always been a little confused about this-- why don't Hindu's eat beef?&lt;br /&gt;Raj: We believe cows are gods.&lt;br /&gt;Sheldon: Not technically. In Hinduism cattle are thought to be like gods.&lt;br /&gt;Raj: Do not tell me about my own culture Sheldon! In the mood I'm in, I'll take you out, I swear to cow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Glee:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Sue: I'll often yell at homeless people: "Hey how is that homelessness thing working out for you? Try not being homeless for once!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Sue: Not everyone is gonna have the walnuts to take a pro-littering stance. But I will not rest until every inch or our fair state is covered in garbage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-63483337992448123?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/63483337992448123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=63483337992448123' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/63483337992448123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/63483337992448123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/01/great-tv-quotes.html' title='Great TV Quotes'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4490472357485721640</id><published>2010-01-14T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T22:47:05.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Say the Darndest Things Vol. 1</title><content type='html'>The kids I teach are full of interesting things to say and I had to share some of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid A1 "So, what torturous things are you going to make us do today?" said to me as we sit down to begin Reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid A2 "You have to know your shapes so that when you graduate from junior high you can get a good job, like McDonalds." said to another child in my Math group when he wanted to know why he needed to know what a trapezoid was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid A1 "I am going to get really mad if you tell me to look up anything else in the dictionary. Let's just agree that I don't need to learn any more words."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid F "You better get married soon because you are getting old. If you don't you are going to get pregnant and die." I wasn't sure how to explain to him the faults in his logic without getting into religion and biology. I left that one alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4490472357485721640?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4490472357485721640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4490472357485721640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4490472357485721640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4490472357485721640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/01/kids-say-darndest-things-vol-1.html' title='Kids Say the Darndest Things Vol. 1'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4477355363000864954</id><published>2010-01-10T22:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T22:12:45.004-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Married!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1PtqPu8O5I/AAAAAAAAAO0/QTyQzAhFqqU/s1600-h/18161_243291703080_525463080_3104397_7615545_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427943285945285522" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1PtqPu8O5I/AAAAAAAAAO0/QTyQzAhFqqU/s320/18161_243291703080_525463080_3104397_7615545_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After months of planning my friend Natalie got married on December 29, 2009. It was my first in-depth look at wedding planning. It was fun to be there when she bought the dress and go with her to buy his ring. I enjoyed scouring magazines to look at cakes and go online to research flowers. I made the sign-in book for the reception and it has given me an interest in doing some of my own scrapbooking. Here are a few pictures from the day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1PsujbopEI/AAAAAAAAAOc/zMfjvuNlBPs/s1600-h/Wedding+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427942260440867906" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1PsujbopEI/AAAAAAAAAOc/zMfjvuNlBPs/s320/Wedding+1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1PsvZ-zjuI/AAAAAAAAAOs/Q9YCpZUtQKU/s1600-h/Wedding+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427942275083898594" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1PsvZ-zjuI/AAAAAAAAAOs/Q9YCpZUtQKU/s320/Wedding+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1PsuzO2xoI/AAAAAAAAAOk/dj-TubMs6-0/s1600-h/Wedding+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427942264682235522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1PsuzO2xoI/AAAAAAAAAOk/dj-TubMs6-0/s320/Wedding+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4477355363000864954?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4477355363000864954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4477355363000864954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4477355363000864954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4477355363000864954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/01/shes-married.html' title='She&apos;s Married!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/S1PtqPu8O5I/AAAAAAAAAO0/QTyQzAhFqqU/s72-c/18161_243291703080_525463080_3104397_7615545_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5619803840929770870</id><published>2010-01-07T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T21:50:22.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheers and Jeers for 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers to Hulu for bringing my favorite shows to the internet for free including Doogie Howser, Mystery Science Theater 3000, Stargate, Sliders and numerous others!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to whomever broke into my care and stole my extensive CD collection. You suck&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers to the new principal at my school for having a sense of humor about one of my especially difficult students.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to the Taco Bell near my parent's house that charges me $1.49 for a chicken burrito that costs me only $0.89 near my house.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers to the delicious new recipes I discovered this year including a cheese and cracker dip and chocolate truffle cake.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to media oversaturation on things such as Tiger Woods, Jon &amp;amp; Kate, Michael Jackson's death, and Twilight.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers to NPR for their program "All Songs Considered" some of my favorite new music has come from them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to ABC for cancelling Pushing Daisies, Eli Stone, and Defying Gravity. Although half a cheer to ABC for at least resolving Eli Stone in a somewhat satisfying manor. And double jeers for leaving Defying Gravity on the biggest cliffhanger ever.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers to the people who fed my obsession for the color purple and pomegranates.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to overused adolescent slang such as "sick" and "tight." &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers to my friend Joey who helped me do some major repairs on my car this year, especially since I paid him in cheesecake and hugs.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to the parents of children at my school that hear me ask the kids NOT to use the automatic handicap doors then walk past me and use them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers to some awesome movies this year. At the top of the list was Star Trek!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jeers to any network that only puts clips instead of streaming full episodes online. Namely CBS for The Big Bang Theory and ABC for Eastwick.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheers to my new ecclisastic leader who made an exception for me and lets me attend his congregation despite the fact the my geographical location would normally prohibit me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And finally cheers to the people who put up with me this year and stuck around for the new year.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5619803840929770870?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5619803840929770870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5619803840929770870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5619803840929770870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5619803840929770870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/01/cheers-and-jeers-for-2009.html' title='Cheers and Jeers for 2009'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-9192581460914236318</id><published>2010-01-05T20:10:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T20:19:56.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Twilight Years</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="675" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8009598&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8009598&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="675" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/8009598"&gt;Twilight Years&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/user2751266"&gt;Tom&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-9192581460914236318?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/9192581460914236318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=9192581460914236318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/9192581460914236318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/9192581460914236318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2010/01/twilight-years.html' title='The Twilight Years'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4797109798750708551</id><published>2009-11-06T23:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T23:26:08.432-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans Unicode;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans Unicode;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;The following was written by Ben Stein              and recited by him on CBS Sunday  Morning              Commentary.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My confession:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a Jew, and every              single one of my ancestors was Jewish.  And it does not bother              me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up,              bejeweled trees, Christmas trees.  I don't feel threatened.               I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are,              Christmas trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't bother me a bit when people say,              'Merry Christmas' to me.  I don't think they are slighting me              or getting ready to put me in a ghetto.  In fact, I kind of              like it&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans Unicode;font-size:100%;color:#000080;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans Unicode;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;  It shows that we are all              brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't              bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key              intersection near my beach house in    Malibu   .               If people want a creche, it's just as fine with me as is the              Menorah a few hundred yards away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like getting              pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like              getting pushed around for being Christians.  I think people who              believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period.               I have no idea where the concept came from, that America is an              explicitly atheist country.  I can't find it in the              Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.             &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come              from that we should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to              worship God as we understand Him?  I guess that's a sign that              I'm getting old, too.  But there are a lot of us who are              wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we              knew went to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In light of the many jokes we send to one              another for a laugh, this is a little different:  This is not              intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you              thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the              Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her 'How could God let something              like this happen?' (regarding Hurricane Katrina)..  Anne Graham              gave an extremely profound and insightful response.  She said,              'I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for              years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out              of our government and to get out of our lives.  And being the              gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out.  How can              we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we              demand He leave us alone?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In light of recent events....              Terrorists attack, school shootings, etc.  I think it started              when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few              years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we              said OK.  Then someone said you better not read the Bible in              school.  The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not              steal, and love your neighbor as yourself.  And we said              OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our              children when they misbehave, because their little personalities              would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem ( Dr. Spock's              son committed suicide).  We said an expert should know what              he's talking about.  And we said okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we're asking              ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know              right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers,              their classmates, and themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably, if we think about              it long and hard enough, we can figure it out.  I think it has              a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how              simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's              going to hell.  Funny how we believe what the newspapers say,              but question what the Bible says.  Funny how you can send              'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you              startsending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about              sharing.  Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles              pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is              suppressed in the school and workplace. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans Unicode;font-size:100%;color:red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you laughing yet?              &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans Unicode;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny              how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on              your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what              they will think of you for sending it. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans Unicode;font-size:100%;color:red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how we can be              more worried about what other people think of us than what God              thinks of us. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans Unicode;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pass it on if you think it has              merit. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans Unicode;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If not,              then just discard it... No one will know you did.  But, if you              discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what              bad shape the world is in.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Lucida Sans Unicode;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Best Regards,               Honestly and respectfully,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben          Stein&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4797109798750708551?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4797109798750708551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4797109798750708551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4797109798750708551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4797109798750708551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/11/think.html' title='Think'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-7991474104047262639</id><published>2009-11-01T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T23:31:35.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Be or Not to Be</title><content type='html'>I have been trying to decide if I would rather be busy or bored. I spent all of my summer working and that was pretty much it. When fall came I decided to be more proactive about my social life, but now I am wondering if I am in over my head. My schedule right now after work is insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday: 4:00-6:00 Rehearsal at This is the Place State Park&lt;br /&gt;                 7:00 Family Home Evening&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday:4:30-6:00 Piano practice and making dinner&lt;br /&gt;                 6:30-8:30 Rehearsal at University of Utah&lt;br /&gt;                 9:00-10:30 Rehearsal&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: 4:00-5:30 Lesson prep for work&lt;br /&gt;                  5:30-6:30 make and eat dinner&lt;br /&gt;                  7:00-9:00 Rehearsal at Westminister College&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: 4:00-6:00 Rehearsal at This is the Place State Park&lt;br /&gt;                  6:00-7:00 Organ practice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday is a blessed day. I am done with work at 2:00 and I get to come home and take a nap. Naps may not be a permanent thing, but since I have now been sick for 24 days it has become a ritual. I wish Saturdays were relaxing, but at my new residence I am usually doing something that my roommate can't do. Like climbing on the roof to clean out the rain gutters. This week it was pruning the vines that were growing through the fence onto the driveway. I also raked all the leaves off the roof. (Don't ask me why it was required, I just do as I'm told)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the ultimate question is: To be or not to be busy? I don't know. Ask me again after the Christmas performances for the three choirs are over. Did I mention that I sometimes have more than one performance for more than one choir on the same day?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-7991474104047262639?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/7991474104047262639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=7991474104047262639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7991474104047262639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7991474104047262639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/11/to-be-or-not-to-be.html' title='To Be or Not to Be'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-4272651745977092286</id><published>2009-11-01T03:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T03:03:39.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Awesome Pumpkins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF4Izna3I/AAAAAAAAAOU/nnfv7Ebk4Ew/s1600-h/Davy+Jones+pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF4Izna3I/AAAAAAAAAOU/nnfv7Ebk4Ew/s320/Davy+Jones+pumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401300158839745394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF4E7ok4I/AAAAAAAAAOM/2HkaQIOjxfA/s1600-h/Pumpkin2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF4E7ok4I/AAAAAAAAAOM/2HkaQIOjxfA/s320/Pumpkin2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401300157799633794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF32bJA3I/AAAAAAAAAOE/whkNFF2mo_4/s1600-h/Skull+pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF32bJA3I/AAAAAAAAAOE/whkNFF2mo_4/s320/Skull+pumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401300153905251186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF3oc8MEI/AAAAAAAAAN8/3dBIQ2fDGzc/s1600-h/Pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF3oc8MEI/AAAAAAAAAN8/3dBIQ2fDGzc/s320/Pumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401300150154702914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF3Ypk7MI/AAAAAAAAAN0/dyBDdhdzRUc/s1600-h/Predator+pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF3Ypk7MI/AAAAAAAAAN0/dyBDdhdzRUc/s320/Predator+pumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401300145912736962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's past Halloween, but these are some pretty awesome pumpkins! Had to share.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-4272651745977092286?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/4272651745977092286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=4272651745977092286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4272651745977092286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/4272651745977092286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/11/awesome-pumpkins.html' title='Awesome Pumpkins'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/SvVF4Izna3I/AAAAAAAAAOU/nnfv7Ebk4Ew/s72-c/Davy+Jones+pumpkin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5353381393051229918</id><published>2009-10-31T16:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T16:16:46.437-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Death By Choking [comedy]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/CNk9KNVtnRw' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/CNk9KNVtnRw'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Happy Halloween!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5353381393051229918?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5353381393051229918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5353381393051229918' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5353381393051229918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5353381393051229918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/10/death-by-choking-comedy.html' title='Death By Choking [comedy]'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-6494769198407410650</id><published>2009-10-24T21:10:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T21:10:46.895-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Voca People</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/jSf3KRlkdV0' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/jSf3KRlkdV0'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Very cool concept!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-6494769198407410650?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/6494769198407410650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=6494769198407410650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6494769198407410650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/6494769198407410650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/10/voca-people.html' title='The Voca People'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-871201512338902215</id><published>2009-10-13T23:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T23:29:14.323-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Resigned to Reality</title><content type='html'>Sometimes people aren't always smart. Say for example, me. So I lost my phone Saturday and couldn't figure out where it was since I hadn't really gone anywhere. Luckily at 3:30 a.m. on Sunday/Monday I sat bolt upright in bed because I realized it might be on the front lawn. I jumped out of bed and went to look and indeed there was my phone, sitting on the front lawn. Chilled, a little damp, but otherwise intact. Now here comes the stupid part. I also went out to my car to retrieve something from the front seat. Things get fuzzy here but I was almost positive that I locked the car before going back in to go to sleep. Whilst getting into my car the next morning to go to work I noticed that everything that had once been in my center console was now strewn across the driver's seat. The door was (still?) locked so I unlocked it and realized that someone had indeed rifled through my car. My change drawer, which I never open, was still wide open and all the coins in my cup holder were gone. It suddenly dawned on me that the day before since I was wearing a skirt that did not have pockets, that I had unintentionally left my wallet IN MY CAR. Yep, that's right the thief took my wallet which happened to include a large portion of money, my driver's license and a couple other valuable things. It also occured to me only today that my entire CD collection is also missing. Sixteen years of gathering what I consider to be a very fine music collection is now gonzo. 536 of some of my most precious possessions just disappeared. Honestly I should be the most upset about the money because I will never get it back. But strangely enough I have been the most devastated by the loss of my CD's. I have resigned myself to the fact that not only am I now broke for the next 18 days, but I will have to start all over again, building a collection ver near and dear to my heart. Some of those CD's were signed by the band members! Dang it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-871201512338902215?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/871201512338902215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=871201512338902215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/871201512338902215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/871201512338902215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/10/resigned-to-reality.html' title='Resigned to Reality'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-2306331407473480720</id><published>2009-10-03T22:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T23:12:01.216-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dating Do's and Don'ts (For Men)</title><content type='html'>Some of the Do's:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do open doors and pull out chairs for me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do ask me about the temperature in the car.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do make it clear that the outing is a date. A phrase such as "It's a date" while planning works quite effectively.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do warn me about proper attire. I don't mind if you keep our activity a surprise but give me advance warning if I will need a rain poncho or hiking boots.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do let me know if you are going to be late. A text is usually sufficient.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do include me in the planning. It can be fun to take turns. But make it clear if you intend to pay or not.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;And the Don'ts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't be offended if I don't wait for you to open my door. It's possible that I have been single for a while and have become accustomed to doing things on my own. It does not mean I don't want you to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't try to be sneaky. When I tell you that I have played the piano for 22 years, it's pretty obvious that you are trying to find out how old I am when you ask at what age I started. Just ask me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't assume after one date that I know what time you will be coming for the next date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;DO NOT wait until the afternoon of the date to confirm that you do in fact have a date. Especially when you had not discussed specific times or activities beforehand.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;DO NOT rely on text messaging to arrange a date. Call me old fashioned but I would rather that you call me. After we have established exclusivity, texting can be fine.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;DO NOT take me home to meet your parents on a first date. So scary!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't shake my hand at the end of a date. Ask if a hug is appropriate I am usually happy to oblige.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Just a few tips. Here's to hoping you don't need them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-2306331407473480720?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/2306331407473480720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=2306331407473480720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2306331407473480720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/2306331407473480720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/10/dating-dos-and-donts-for-men.html' title='Dating Do&apos;s and Don&apos;ts (For Men)'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1197141689213177398</id><published>2009-09-26T10:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T10:30:35.123-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hazards of the Mall</title><content type='html'>I have spent more time in malls lately than I usually do doing some essential shopping with a close friend who is preparing for a wedding and I thought I would point out some mall oddities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malls should be a standard layout. The University Mall in Provo is HUGE and I had never been before. Instead of a standard T or H shape this mall is some kind of shape I don't even know what I would have to get an aerial view to figure it out. I was on my own for a while and got confused to where I was, partly because there was a Pretzelmaker at every turn. I only figured out where I was by looking at the employees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiosks in the mall. Sigh. I don't mind the ones where the people sit at their little booths and wait for a patron to browse before they pounce and tell you about their product. However, there are the few that pray on the lone shopper. This time it was the exotic facial and hand lotion kiosk that got me. As I was walking past a woman stepped in front of me and started her spiel and I immediately told her no. As I started to walk past she tried to goad me into conversation by claiming that I wouldn't talk to her because of her accent. I didn't justify myself, knowing that she just wanted me to stop long enough to engage her in conversation. On the other side of the mall I ran into an identical kiosk run this time by attractive foreign men. This time I caved. This good looking stranger with an accent was a charmer! I let him do his pitch while he caressed my hands and promoted the benefits of what essentially is exotic sugar. Then of course I felt guilty and told him I had no money, I also promised to walk back this way before his shift is over and maybe bring some money. Did I go back? Of course not, in fact my final destination would have taken me past him again so instead I left the mall and walked all the way on the outside of this monstrosity to my destination simply to avoid him. Sad right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an inherently guilty conscience whether it is deserved or not. I was helping a friend shop for wedding bands for her betrothed and of course we visited more than one jewelry store. At the mall we went to there are 5 jewelers all within view of each other. We traversed from place to place where each pampered us with free water, jewelry cleaning and various promises of the best value. My problem came when we would go from one to another within full view of the salespeople who were just vying for our business. My guilt came from visiting the competitor and knowing that the other salespeople could see me doing it. Luckily my friend is not so guilt ridden, and merely dragged me behind her with a roll of the eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-1197141689213177398?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1197141689213177398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1197141689213177398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1197141689213177398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1197141689213177398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/09/hazards-of-mall.html' title='Hazards of the Mall'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5481556184441521281</id><published>2009-09-22T22:03:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T22:04:38.246-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to the Principal</title><content type='html'>Dear Mr. C,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to our school. I hope you enjoy it here. Can you make it so that we get seconds at lunch?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your friend,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I like food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5481556184441521281?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5481556184441521281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5481556184441521281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5481556184441521281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5481556184441521281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/09/letter-to-principal.html' title='Letter to the Principal'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-5483611453058350372</id><published>2009-09-18T16:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T22:09:07.900-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Music Discoveries</title><content type='html'>I have been on a girl music kick and found some new music artists that I have become a fan of because of my new roommate. Check them out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barlowgirl&lt;br /&gt;Charlotte Martin&lt;br /&gt;Emiliana Torrini&lt;br /&gt;Britt Nicole&lt;br /&gt;Natalie Grant&lt;br /&gt;Kari Jobe&lt;br /&gt;Laura Marling&lt;br /&gt;Jaymay&lt;br /&gt;Anuhea&lt;br /&gt;Kate Earl&lt;br /&gt;Hope Partlow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Regina Spektor's new album!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-5483611453058350372?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/5483611453058350372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=5483611453058350372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5483611453058350372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/5483611453058350372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/09/new-music-discoveries.html' title='New Music Discoveries'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1684862288118662327</id><published>2009-08-23T22:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T20:40:51.322-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pros and Cons of My Summer Job</title><content type='html'>The Pros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Coooking everyday was fun!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Planning a new menu every week let me be creative&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Trying new recipes on unsuspecting victims was wickedly entertaining.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sneaking vegetables into things that you wouldn't think amused me greatly.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People asking for seconds or thirds. The best compliment ever!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being offered jobs in other kitchens, also an excellent compliment.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Having a giant kitchen and industrial appliances makes for much easier cooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Cons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting up early is not my favorite. 5 a.m. is not a time I am accustomed to seeing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cooking for large amounts of people means that you will NEVER EVER satisfy everyone.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Picky eaters. Ugh, I had enough issues catering to people with special diets. Gluten free, no red food dye, dairy allergies and etc. But when you want me to make you a grilled cheese sandwich for EVERY meal simply because you only eat apples, cheese and peanut butter? Annoying!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People using my kitchen and not picking up after themselves. Every Monday I ended up spending at least half of my morning cleaning up messes left from people who used the kitchen over the weekend.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Adults who refused to read. Several times I would buy something for a specific recipe and then leave clear instructions on said food product asking for it to be left alone. I would even put the date and meal that I intended to use it for, only to find that someone used it anyway.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My culinary adventures did not always pan out. Don't get me wrong the food was always edible, but it sucks to put something out for people to eat that you know could be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-1684862288118662327?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1684862288118662327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1684862288118662327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1684862288118662327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1684862288118662327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/08/pros-and-cons-of-my-summer-job.html' title='The Pros and Cons of My Summer Job'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-7713515276050876158</id><published>2009-08-10T14:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T14:21:47.148-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Any Chance to Brag....</title><content type='html'>Got to see my cute niece and nephew last month and decided to put up some of the pics from their visit. I hope it's not another 18 months before I get to see them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="visibility:visible;"&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widget-c1.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" height="320" width="426" style="width:426px;height:320px"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://widget-c1.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;param name="scale" value="noscale" /&gt;&lt;param name="salign" value="l" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"/&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="cy=ms&amp;il=1&amp;channel=3386706919809184449&amp;site=widget-c1.slide.com"/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p style="white-space:nowrap"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;at=un&amp;id=3386706919809184449&amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-c1.slide.com/p1/3386706919809184449/ms_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;at=un&amp;id=3386706919809184449&amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-c1.slide.com/p2/3386706919809184449/ms_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&amp;at=un&amp;id=3386706919809184449&amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-c1.slide.com/p4/3386706919809184449/ms_t016_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-7713515276050876158?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/7713515276050876158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=7713515276050876158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7713515276050876158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/7713515276050876158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/08/any-chance-to-brag.html' title='Any Chance to Brag....'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-3307038310591277438</id><published>2009-08-01T08:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T08:09:54.146-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Health Care Problem Solved!</title><content type='html'>Have I mentioned lately how much I love The Daily Show with Jon Stewart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="512" height="296"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/mgAvpORPJlBjo1MPR276kw"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/mgAvpORPJlBjo1MPR276kw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowFullScreen="true"  width="512" height="296"&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/4707076319144097955-3307038310591277438?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/3307038310591277438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=3307038310591277438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3307038310591277438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/3307038310591277438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/08/health-care-problem-solved.html' title='Health Care Problem Solved!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4707076319144097955.post-1317624968062700308</id><published>2009-07-28T18:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T19:11:18.326-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hillcrest High School Class of 1999!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Sm-hp6ViF_I/AAAAAAAAANs/rQ5qX4NzWlE/s1600-h/Hillcrest+1999.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Sm-hp6ViF_I/AAAAAAAAANs/rQ5qX4NzWlE/s320/Hillcrest+1999.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363683422627829746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is complicated. We start thinking we know where we will end up but often find ourselves surprised by the twist and turns of the path before us. I have been pondering this lately with the impending arrival of my 10 year high school reunion next month. My first thoughts were, "10 years? Seriously? Where did the time go?" There are regrets especially when I realized that I have not kept in contact with a single person from that time of my life. Initially my reason for not keeping in contact was that I have ended up such a completely different person than I was, but guess what, so has everybody else! (In theory of course, 10 years should have something to show for itself right?) I don't think I truly knew who I was as a person until well into my twenties. Here are some realizations that I will need to remember next month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the majority of the people I will be hoping to see are married and have children. I am not married and have no children. However, I am satisfied with my life right now. Do I want to be single for the rest of my life? No. But I value the experiences and lessons I have learned from this time of my life. Everything that I have learned in the last 10 years have made me, in my opinion, a better person. Those lessons and experiences would probably not have been the same had I been married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not have a glamorous job. Some of the people from my graduating class are well known TV personalities, staffers for Presidents, engineers for Cirque du Soleil, musicians and lawyers. I don't have a job like that. But I do have the great opportunity of teaching children with special needs. It took me a while to find my niche, but from all the things that I have done, I have come to the realization that I enjoy and succeed the most when I have a job that allows me to help others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My accomplishments over the last 10 years may not impress most, but here are some things I can be proud of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have an awesome music collection. My Cd's are housed in 5 different cases of over 200+ and are separated into categories for easier navigation. I also have a spreadsheet that allows you to search by artist, genre, or year.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have become a pretty decent cook. I may not cook for many other than myself most of the time, but through one of my jobs I have become innovative and can not only make my own chocolate dessert syrup but also a pretty darn good meatloaf.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I know a lot of seemingly useless and random facts, mostly about life from the 1930's, 40's and 50's. This comes from working with Alzheimer's and dementia patients for 4 years.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I made a difference in finding a cure for Multiple Sclerosis. Not necessarily a measurable one, but for 15+ years I volunteered at their main Utah fundraiser and spent 4 of those years on their fund raising board, the last two as the Rest Stop Chair.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have written music. Mostly religious in nature, I am finally letting some people see it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;So. for my 10 year reunion I say, bring it on! Sure some of the old insecurities will arise, but I will just have to remember this list. Hillcrest High School class of 1999 classmates, see you in a little less than a month!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4707076319144097955-1317624968062700308?l=rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/feeds/1317624968062700308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4707076319144097955&amp;postID=1317624968062700308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1317624968062700308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4707076319144097955/posts/default/1317624968062700308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rantingsofasemisane.blogspot.com/2009/07/hillcrest-high-school-class-of-1999.html' title='Hillcrest High School Class of 1999!'/><author><name>Hildegarde</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984989889005772596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Slp9_LJo4tI/AAAAAAAAANM/ysHtsLqRTew/S220/Profile.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NTNz0e7lWFU/Sm-hp6ViF_I/AAAAAAAAANs/rQ5qX4NzWlE/s72-c/Hillcrest+1999.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
