<?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-4448196122553507262</id><updated>2012-02-15T23:54:16.587-08:00</updated><category term='pictures'/><category term='theives'/><category term='people'/><category term='poem'/><category term='bullshit'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='photography'/><category term='update'/><category term='family'/><category term='bad day'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>&gt;in this world, i fake a smile&lt;</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>78</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-2375471301436311089</id><published>2009-01-09T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T13:44:40.914-08:00</updated><title type='text'>well.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Maybe it's time to start writing here again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I was reading through some old entries, and i kind of miss writing.  I mean, im writing somewhere else, but i miss my blog. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;i think my blog shall receive a make over, and an update post shall be written! It's been like what... exactly a year since my last post (well, kinda)...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-2375471301436311089?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/2375471301436311089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=2375471301436311089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/2375471301436311089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/2375471301436311089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2009/01/well.html' title='well.....'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-5365143951914845481</id><published>2008-02-07T13:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T13:36:49.908-08:00</updated><title type='text'>stupid movies</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Written: Wednesday, January 9th, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;READERS BEWARE::&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;This post is&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; NOT&lt;/span&gt; for the faint of heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;So... Last night, i believe it was.. No no let me think.  Okay, it was Monday night.  Yes.  I was watching the movie, Elizabethtown.  I didn't make it thru the whole movie, but as a side note, i'd like to say what i did see was amazing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Anyways, so in this movie, the main character's father dies.  He has to go to Elizabethtown, where his father was visiting family, i believe, and attend the funeral there and bring his father home.  Anyways, there's this scene, where, at the funeral, he has to see his father - lying in the casket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;I lost it.  Everything about that movie, that scene, made me cry.  It brought things into perspective, and i realized that my mom could anyday have a heart attack and die.  Or get into a car accident, and die.  Or be in the wrong place at the right time - and die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Please don't tell me i shouldn't worry about these things, and please don't tell me that it won't happen.  Anytime, anyday, i could lose the person that i am the closest to.  The woman that birthed me, raised me, and taught me 90% of what i know.  The woman i go to in my times of need, and who tells me all about her daily life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;We work in the same place, live at the same house, enjoy the same activities, and listen to the same music.  I am a reflection of her, and she looks to me as her oldest daughter, and most prized possession.  I love her more than anything in this world (aside from my son).  To lose her would be to lose part of my world.  She helps to make this world of mine go round. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;My head is spinning, and of course, im thinking what if Konno were to pass away.  I have only read stories of those who have lost their children.  It is the worst pain to bear, i have heard.  You bring someone into the world, you shouldn't have to watch as they leave this world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Or what if jenny?  She is my best friend, and losing her would be like losing part of my soul.  she is more than a best friend, in fact, more of a sister.  We have so many memories, so many laughs, cries, heartfelt talks, fights, everything.  I wouldn't trade those for anything, and i wouldn't trade her for anything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;I would be devistated to watch any of these people be buried, much less see them lying lifeless in a casket.  I shudder at the thought, and if i had the capability to dream right now, would probably have nightmares about it.  It a horrible thing to think about, but at any time it could happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;That makes me sad.  Angry.  Depressed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;I think im probably just those things b/cuz of other things going on in my life.  All i know is that i don't want to grow old, and i dont want those i love to grow old either.  I couldn't imagine life without them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;Ok, enough of this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-5365143951914845481?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/5365143951914845481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=5365143951914845481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/5365143951914845481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/5365143951914845481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2008/02/stupid-movies.html' title='stupid movies'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-8339928815769216143</id><published>2008-02-07T13:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T18:10:26.981-08:00</updated><title type='text'>this entry doesn't seem like me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Written: Friday, January 4th 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;down day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not sure why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't even have the slightest idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate ups and downs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wishing it were 6pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im ready 2 go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eddie and i have been hanging out lately. he was at my house late last night &amp;amp; i fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so he stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asked this morning if we could maybe "do something" this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, that means sex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't answer him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guys are stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im ready for a weekend by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can anyone relate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Alex~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-8339928815769216143?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/8339928815769216143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=8339928815769216143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8339928815769216143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8339928815769216143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-entry-doesnt-seem-like-me.html' title='this entry doesn&apos;t seem like me.'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7267010722127349364</id><published>2008-02-07T13:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T13:32:20.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'>vicious work routine....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Written: Thursday January 3rd, 2008&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Today she sits alone at her desk, answering the phones like she always does.  She types what she feels, and then hits the “delete” button.  Masking her feelings is daily routine, but she feels it tearing her up inside.  The monster has subsided, and finally she is winning his battle.  Now it is he who is cowering in a corner, and her soul has control over him.  Her happiness today, however, is drowned out by soreness and fatigue. &lt;br /&gt;Desperately hoping for sleep, she takes another call.  Angry customers swarm her thoughts, and every waking moment she hopes it won’t be another to scream at her.  Extension, Move In, Extension, Extension, Move Out, Transfer, Extension, Extension, Extension, NO Extension, Sup Call, Move In, Extension.  The vicious cycle goes forever, and sometimes intrudes her dreams.  She can only think about sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;I am desperately tired. i am ready to leave this place i call work. With what i make i can't afford to just be done.  On the other hand, this job drains me something ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;wouldn't it be nice if we could go back to the days where mothers were suppose to stay home and raise their children?  Not like that would matter now that i am single. I don't really know what i need to write, but something is consuming my thoughts and draining what energy i have left.  Something is bothering me, yet i can't get a grasp on what that is.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;She closes her eyes, and sees herself on an island in the sun.  Completely care free and getting the best tan of her life.  Afer a long sigh, she opens her eyes, and says "this is alex, how may i help you?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-7267010722127349364?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7267010722127349364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7267010722127349364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7267010722127349364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7267010722127349364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2008/02/vicious-work-routine.html' title='vicious work routine....'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-2849282452069197879</id><published>2008-02-07T13:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T13:29:05.620-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She lives.. She's free..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Written:  Monday, December 31st, 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;She walked outside to the crisp fall air. Breathing deeply, her worries all seemed to disappear. Instead of running to the car, she strolled. Feeling as though she was flying, with the wind whipping around her, the once perfect hair on her head fell flat. She didn’t care. A new outlook on life was forming in her head. Here, she was free. Free from criticism, free from interrogations, free from that son-of-a-bitch who never believed her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Walking out that door was the smartest thing she could have done. Probably the bravest as well. People were always telling her how strong she was, and how they envied her ability to cope. Always smiling when they expected her to, and never shedding a tear, her soul was broken and she was drowning from the tears her heart shed within. Laughing to herself when they said “you are so strong.” Yeah right. She wasn’t strong, and she knew it. Like a little girl, she craved for someone to say that they cared. For someone to see right thru that fake little smile of hers, and to see what a nasty liar she was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;They didn’t – they never would. She would just be left alone and her heart would die. Until now. Until she felt that clear winter day bring her to her senses. And how she loved it! Not changing anything for that day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Still having questions that are left unanswered, and yet to discover what effect it would have on her heart, she walks blindly. He’s trying to real her back into the house of confinement, but she won’t come back. He hopes, but she knows not. Now that she is free, never will she allow herself to be caged by him, or anyone, ever again. She has found her happily ever after, and it has nothing to do with a man. Just her, her son, and her freedom. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Life is how she never imagined it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-2849282452069197879?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/2849282452069197879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=2849282452069197879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/2849282452069197879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/2849282452069197879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2008/02/she-walked-outside-to-crisp-fall-air.html' title='She lives.. She&apos;s free..'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-5884604404365644138</id><published>2008-02-07T13:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T13:28:13.359-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I FREAKING DID IT!! &amp; update</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;written: Monday December 31st, 2007&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yeah, i stayed strong and broke up with Eddie on friday, as planned. All went well, better than expected actually. We hid mine and Jenny's car at her parents so he couldn't come find us. Konnor and i spent the weekend with her. He, of course, did the i'll change why are you doing this, blah blah blah. I made myself numb to all the words that left his mouth and i came out on top!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Its really hard, and im struggling to hang in there. sleeping by myself is weird, but im thankful i have konnor there with me. :) my bug.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;speaking of him, he's sick. had diarrhea since thursday, and just not himself. his eating habits are all out of whack, and i dont understand whats up. Eddie has him today, and he called and made an appointment so the doctor can figure it out. i hope he isn't too sick. but 4 days w/ diarrhea is enough to make a mommy scared!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Jenny and i are fine, as we all knew we would be. we have our tiffs and they always turn out okay. now we are dying our hair and going to a new years party. eddie is watching konnor. I know this is a ploy to get me back, but its not going to work! I'm stronger than him, and i will make it!! He is going to take over paying the babysitter, and we are going to split the phone bill. in return, i will not file for child support. for now. he knows that if he f*cks it up i will thou. no playing around!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;anyways, that's all for now. gotta get back to work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Loves,&lt;br /&gt;Alex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-5884604404365644138?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/5884604404365644138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=5884604404365644138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/5884604404365644138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/5884604404365644138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2008/02/written-monday-december-31st-2007-yeah.html' title='I FREAKING DID IT!! &amp; update'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-2024517846004835186</id><published>2008-02-07T11:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T13:39:20.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>email to my BFF</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;written: Wednesday December 26th, 2007&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;you and i seem to be able to speak better thru words, not conversating over the phone, when we are unhappy.. here is me spilling my guts (and trying to remember what i was telling myself last night that i needed to say)..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you said we haven't been on the same page for the last week or so, i definately agree. i have felt like we are just... blah. and i dont want you to take it like its all your fault, because it isnt.. its mine too.. i was, and still am, really sad about brian's going away party.. i really wanted to go, and felt sooooooooooooooooooooo left out that i couldn't. i know there was nothing that could have been done, and thats just that. but still you get this sense/feeling of abandonment. JC joking about me coming to make breakfast made me mad more than anything, which didn't help. i really wanted to hang out on sunday though, and hoped that you would call when you got up. i didn't receive a call and unfortunately the text message didn't go through either, so come the call when you said you were going shooting, again, the feeling of abandonment set in. i dont know why, but i do know that i just wanted to hang out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;continuing to christmas eve, which is when i originally thought we were doing the great exchange, i was sad that you had made plans. and quite honestly, when eddie started picking fights with me on christmas eve day and into the night, i had no desire to do anything but cry. and cry i did. so whatever call or text was not made is my fault. i was really upset with him. as a matter of fact, i wrapped all my presents, and got done at 2am. i played two rounds of halo when he came out and got mad at me. because i wasnt coming to bed yet. i cried myself to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my resentment followed into the next morning, when he got mad when my sister got me up to open my stocking. he was actually mad that i didnt want to lay down with him. eventually he got up, but he just wasnt happy. and he seemed upset i didnt stuff his stocking this year (which i told him i wouldnt).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, because i couldnt say this with him hovering around me, he got konnor nothing for christmas. he didnt get anyone anything. i have a jacket from his work on hold, but thats really the extent of it all. i know what you are going to say, but please dont. these past few day are enough for me to realize that we have is nothing more than a.... lie, you might say.. friday cannot come any sooner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of friday, i dont know how its all going to play out. im terrified that he is going to come by your parents house just to see if im there. we can leave my car somewhere and you can take us in the morning, but there is still your car. and what am i going to do with konnor. i dont know. im terrified but i want to get this done and over with. i dont know. i dont know about anything anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back to us though. i dont know where our miscommunication comes into play, but we suck at it. just recently. i dont know what BFF module got disconnected, but im thinking that we better fix it soon. i dont like us being like this, it makes me cry. like last night. i cried. i almost just drove to your house, but i was too tired, physically and mentally. i couldnt do it. then i dreamt that you went to the mountain with everyone, and i woke up from that dream soooooooooo pissed off at you. realizing it was a dream, i thought some more about what this email should say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am rambling, and im sorry. sometimes i just feel like you are so busy with all of your friends, and i dont have more than like 3 ppl that i hang out with. so i just feel left out. i shouldnt, i know, its something that happens in high school, but you are my BFF so it happens. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay so i still feel like im rambling, and this email is much longer than i anticipated, so ill let you back to work. my lunch is at 1030 so if i dont talk to you before then, i will call you at 11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~me~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. im not mad at you. i wasnt last night. just frustrated. and with everything else, i got a little more angry that you didnt want to drive out here than i should have. had we stayed on the phone, i probably would have flipped. :( im sorry.&lt;br /&gt;So that was the email i sent to Jenny. we had a big "blah" last night.. made me very sad...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-2024517846004835186?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/2024517846004835186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=2024517846004835186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/2024517846004835186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/2024517846004835186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2008/02/email-to-my-bff.html' title='email to my BFF'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7680300743823846457</id><published>2008-02-07T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T11:17:22.541-08:00</updated><title type='text'>tears, tears, and more tears.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I am extremely happy the holidays are over. Not only because I have relieved a lot of stress, but because we are only two days from D-Day. Or…. Break up with Eddie day.  And the last few days have proven to me why I don’t want to be with him and why it’s a good thing that we don’t continue this relationship.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one thing….. sh*t I don’t even know where to start.. I can’t think straight and I’m coming down with something (I’m sick).. Okay, well let’s see.. Christmas eve I was at work, and I get this text from Eddie talking about me commenting on someone’s myspace.  It was a male friend of mine, we’ll call him C for now.  Anyways, C and I are friends thru Jenny and he commented on my main pic.  My comments are hidden, which are a good thing since ppl comment me things he would get upset over.  So I tell Eddie yeah I did and that C and I are friends. So he is all mad about that. Whatever..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got off work early on Christmas eve – 3 hours early.  Paid time by the company, I didn’t have to use my own PTO hours.  That was nice.  I went to the store, which was a stupid stupid mistake.  For one item.  I got out pretty quick, but my goodness it was busy.  For a moment I missed my desk and my chair at work – so quiet and peaceful.  Yeah, only for a brief moment.&lt;br /&gt;Later that night, after everyone went to bed, I wrapped all my gifts.  Well, my mom wrapped hers first, and since we had one roll of tape, I had to wait.  2 am rolled around before I was finished.  I sat and played 2 rounds of Halo 2 on live before Eddie stumbled out.  He got all upset that I wasn’t laying in bed with him and that I was out there, and started an argument.  I told him to fuck off, started crying, and continued until I fell asleep.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:30 am Christmas day my sister woke me up to open our stockings.  Eddie was holding onto me very tightly (odd thing for him to do) and got mad when I tried to pry myself free of him.  I just rolled my eyes and got out of bed.  He came out minutes later asking if I was coming back.  I had already told him that I was, and he went back to the bedroom.  He came out again 10 minutes later and plopped on the couch next to me.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was upset, because in years past, I would always do a stocking for him.  I told him in advance I couldn’t this year, there wasn’t enough money.  He said before it was okay, but seemed genuinely hurt that I didn’t do it.  Oh well.  I didn’t care, I bought him gifts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, whenever I would get on the phone with someone, he would be right there – wherever I was – to listen to my side on the conversation.  Then, when I said something he didn’t like, he would get mad, and I would be trying to mouth to him what I was talking about, who I was talking to, etc.. it was ridiculous. Then, after I got off the phone, he would interrogate me on what I was talking about.  I almost decked him I got so mad at him.  (he is texting me “I love you” right now – I don’t want to reply).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was something else, but I cannot, for the life of me, remember what it was.  If I do remember, I will put an update next to the title. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do remember the other thing I was going to talk about now.  Jenny and I have been having little “tiffs” here and there.  Christmas eve was the original date that we were going to exchange gifts.  Between her plans and Eddie, we didn’t do it, and I cried Christmas eve because of that.  Then, Christmas day, we were going to do it, but after I had dinner at Eddie’s grandma’s house, it was like 6:30 pm and Jenny wanted to meet in the middle instead of coming over like she was suppose to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We argued and said some mean things, which made me cry after I told her I’d just talk to her the next day.  I was genuinely hurt that my best friend shut me out.  There is more to it than this, but it would take me FOREVER to write everything out.  I’ll post the email I sent her instead, in my next entry.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope everyone’s Christmas was amazing!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves,&lt;br /&gt; Alex&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-7680300743823846457?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7680300743823846457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7680300743823846457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7680300743823846457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7680300743823846457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2008/02/tears-tears-and-more-tears.html' title='tears, tears, and more tears.'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-314384229934250138</id><published>2008-02-07T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T11:15:01.862-08:00</updated><title type='text'>trust doesn't exsist...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;written: Monday, December 24th, 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Okay, so, despite Eddie’s efforts to keep me home, Konnor and I left for Jenny’s around 7:45 p.m. I was so happy that I stood my ground and said no, I am going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was all the usual, who is going to be there, what are you going to do, are you going anywhere else, blah blah blah. I simply told him it was the 3 of us, we are playing Halo (im a freak, I know. Haha. I LOVE halo), we aren’t leaving. And shut up. He got the point and went to play poker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He decided to go play poker, which was fine with me. He called me once, twice, three times. I answered, of course, to avoid a fight. He sounded drunk. After a 5 minute argument of him lying, he told me he had a drink. Liar. Okay, two then. I still don’t believe you. He stood at two, and I gave up. I asked him what he was doing, he said he was outside his house. Something told me he wasn’t. I said okay, gotta go, playing halo. Goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 minutes later. (dear god I thought). He asks what im doing and I tell him that I am doing the same thing that I was doing before. He asked if B was there (how did he know). **background: B is a male. Very good friend and Eddie knows he has NOTHING to worry about. So he doesn’t** I ask him where he is, he says at home. I know he’s lying. I’m a little terrified because he is slurring his words, and definitely shouldn’t be driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B decides to leave soon after. He wants to bum a cigarette off of me. Okay, I tell him. And we walk outside. I hand him one and look over to his car, only to see Eddie pulling up. *rolls eyes* It takes 20 minutes to drive from my house to Jenny’s. I walk over there and see that his eyes are bloodshot and he smells of booze. Mini argument: I tell him to leave he tells me he loves me. Just a bunch of crap while B goes to tell Jenny that he has showed up. Great, so not only am I arguing w/ Eddie but Jenny is going to give me an earful when I get back in. Finally get Eddie to leave, B is already gone, and I go inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny knows now to open her mouth because I don’t look at her and i flop on the couch. She is going to say “I told you so” I can feel it coming. I swear I will scream at her if she does. But things settle, and after another round of Halo, she says it. “I told you so.” “yeah I know,” was my reply. I left it at that, and so did she.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eddie was texting and calling me and finally my phone died. Yes it really died this time! Ha. So he resorted to Jenny’s phone which soon followed suit. No phones. That meant peace and quiet for the night and some of the next morning. Until Jenny plugged her phone in and turned it on. Three text messages. That boy just doesn’t give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then after I got home, it was a constant interrogation for the night Saturday and all of Sunday. I was so angry and I told him that obviously he doesn’t trust me and he proved that and he is dumb. I don’t want to write about it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas to everyone who I don’t talk to before tomorrow!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are t-minus 4 days and counting. Im very nervous, but anxious too. Im ready to be done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-314384229934250138?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/314384229934250138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=314384229934250138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/314384229934250138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/314384229934250138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2008/02/written-monday-december-24th-2007-okay.html' title='trust doesn&apos;t exsist...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-5338522305793701730</id><published>2008-01-23T15:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T11:10:50.039-08:00</updated><title type='text'>im baaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!</title><content type='html'>more than a month since i have blogged here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; i'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cannot give an excuse that would be suitable enough, but i'll tell you the truth. i have a diary online (which im sure ive mentioned) and its there where i have been keeping my thoughts, secrets, stories, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anywho everyone, i'm about to post some of my entries here. some of them are much too personal to share with the WORLD, but a lot i feel the need to share.  so give me a bit to do it. there's a lot going on here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-5338522305793701730?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/5338522305793701730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=5338522305793701730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/5338522305793701730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/5338522305793701730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2008/01/more-than-month-since-i-have-blogged.html' title='im baaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-9160813969869193784</id><published>2007-12-21T17:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T17:35:23.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a conversation</title><content type='html'>that i had with eddie today.. its a text convo.. bear with the misspellings and poor grammar.. he isnt the brightest crayon in the box..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: jenny wants me and konnor to stay the night and go to saturday market in the morning&lt;br /&gt;him: i kenw it&lt;br /&gt;him: i knew it&lt;br /&gt;me: what&lt;br /&gt;him: that your going to that&lt;br /&gt;me: its at her parents househim: ya ducking right&lt;br /&gt;him: why do you do this i dont know any one that has a girl friend and let them go stay the night at anyone house&lt;br /&gt;him: you said you were coming home&lt;br /&gt;me: dont get all pissy&lt;br /&gt;him: why&lt;br /&gt;me: shes my best friend. thats why. we wanna go early. thats also why. you shouldnt question the trust. i let you hang out with pot smokers because i TRUST you&lt;br /&gt;me: why what&lt;br /&gt;him: your REALLY going&lt;br /&gt;me: uh. yeah. i dont think ill be spending any time with her in the next few days.&lt;br /&gt;him: so&lt;br /&gt;me: so&lt;br /&gt;him: so i wont see you&lt;br /&gt;me: yes you will&lt;br /&gt;him: when&lt;br /&gt;me: after work. gotta get konnor&lt;br /&gt;him: i wanna do what we did this morning agein&lt;br /&gt;me: k&lt;br /&gt;him: your really staying at her house&lt;br /&gt;me: yeah&lt;br /&gt;him: pronges&lt;br /&gt;me: huh&lt;br /&gt;him: prom&lt;br /&gt;him: when are you going to be back tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;me: around noon or so&lt;br /&gt;him: can i go play a tournament&lt;br /&gt;me: yeah if you want. you may have to meet us at the aunt's house&lt;br /&gt;him: what?&lt;br /&gt;me: christmas at the aunt's house&lt;br /&gt;him: tomorrow i know&lt;br /&gt;me: yeah if your tournament goes too long then you may have to meet us there.&lt;br /&gt;him: k call me&lt;br /&gt;me: at 1230. my lunch&lt;br /&gt;him: k&lt;br /&gt;him: you love me&lt;br /&gt;me: ya i love you&lt;br /&gt;                   ((((((an hour later))))))&lt;br /&gt;him:you on brake ill call you k&lt;br /&gt;me: ya i am&lt;br /&gt;                   ((((((15 minutes later))))))&lt;br /&gt;him: you are seeing some one else&lt;br /&gt;me: i think your crazy&lt;br /&gt;him: you think i am just ok with it&lt;br /&gt;him: i want you to show me where jen&lt;br /&gt;him: lives&lt;br /&gt;me: why?&lt;br /&gt;him: you would wanna know&lt;br /&gt;him: wanna meet them too&lt;br /&gt;him: hello&lt;br /&gt;me: you have issues. i dont do this crazy shit to you&lt;br /&gt;him: i not stay the night at people place (peoples houses)&lt;br /&gt;him: what you have anything to say&lt;br /&gt;him: hello&lt;br /&gt;him: hello&lt;br /&gt;me: i have nothing else to say&lt;br /&gt;him: why you dun&lt;br /&gt;him: i love you alot and i care&lt;br /&gt;him: you bakin up with me&lt;br /&gt;him: you mad then&lt;br /&gt;me: no. im working&lt;br /&gt;him: i dont go stay the night any were&lt;br /&gt;him: why can't i go too&lt;br /&gt;him: i go then you can stay at my house&lt;br /&gt;me: IM STAYING AT JENNYS PARENTS HOUSE! NOT HERS!&lt;br /&gt;him: whats wrong with that&lt;br /&gt;him: why cant i go then you can stay the night with me&lt;br /&gt;me: im staying with jenny at her parents house. they dont let boys in the house for one. and two im staying the night!&lt;br /&gt;him: why cant you do that what you going to the mountain&lt;br /&gt;me: no WE ARE GOING TO STAY AT JENNYS PARENTS HOUSE!!!&lt;br /&gt;him: you think you just tell me then i am ok with it&lt;br /&gt;me: no i dont but oh well&lt;br /&gt;him: what i say&lt;br /&gt;him: what did i text you&lt;br /&gt;him: why o well you dont care&lt;br /&gt;me: you think you just tell me then i am ok with it. . . . . thats what you said&lt;br /&gt;him: i dont like you staying at places&lt;br /&gt;him: makes me feel like shit worry alot&lt;br /&gt;him: why you not said anything&lt;br /&gt;me: im working&lt;br /&gt;him: baby&lt;br /&gt;me: what&lt;br /&gt;me: im sorry i was busy. shit. calm down.&lt;br /&gt;him: you wanna get married&lt;br /&gt;him: do you&lt;br /&gt;him: hello do you or not&lt;br /&gt;him: why dont you ANSWER?&lt;br /&gt;him: you wanna get married&lt;br /&gt;him: yes or nome: yes&lt;br /&gt;him: will you marrie me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-9160813969869193784?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/9160813969869193784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=9160813969869193784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/9160813969869193784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/9160813969869193784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/12/conversation.html' title='a conversation'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1616817578119543680</id><published>2007-12-14T15:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T15:26:46.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>such a time its been..</title><content type='html'>there has been no update lately. for that, i apologize. My time and effort has gone into creating an online diary.  Much more open and a lighter atmosphere.  I can talk to people who read easily, and i have grown close to a couple people in my current situation in a short time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that i will discontinue my blog here.  I love my blog too much to ditch it.  Christmas is coming, and changes are as well.  For fear of who reads this, i won't say anything here.  Just know that steps are being made to get to where i want to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terrified as i may be, these changes are much needed.  I am severly depressed right now, that i cannot deny.  My heart hurts for many different reasons.  Even through this hard time, i see Konnor needs me and his smiling face is something i cannot and will not deny.  Those blue eyes are cutting into me right now as i type this as i stare at the picture of him on my desk.  Well, the one of MANY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need support with the journey im about to embark on.  Cheer me on, because if i do not come in first place in this race, losing will be a travesty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More clarification to come. :-\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*.::me::.*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-1616817578119543680?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1616817578119543680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1616817578119543680' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1616817578119543680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1616817578119543680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/12/such-time-its-been.html' title='such a time its been..'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-3754682286774841822</id><published>2007-12-07T08:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T08:51:01.901-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Tonight is going to be a blast.. i am finally going to get away from everything for a night, and let loose!!! of course, it'll be and my partner in crime, Jenny.. and the plans are as follows...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Go to her house after work, take a couple shots of jager.. or a jager bomb. who knows. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Me, her, JC, rachel, dan, maybe dan's g/f, their friend jeff, maybe joy, and someone named matt are piling into three cars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Jenny and i are going to fill something w/ jager to drink while we're gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;UP TO THE MOUNTAIN WE GO!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;do some drunken sledding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;come back to the house, and drink some more!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;maybe watch POTC3, that i bought the DAY it came out.. haha!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;These are all tentative plans &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;((subject to change)) &lt;/span&gt; w/ only the possibility of these people coming.. for sure its me, jenny, jeff, jc and rachel.  And we are definately going to the mountain and jenny and i are DEFINATELY getting drunk!!! Lots of pics, lots of fun...  and eddie is watching konnor. amazing right? most DEF!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I have more to talk about, but thats a diff post.  till then...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;*.::me::.*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-3754682286774841822?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/3754682286774841822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=3754682286774841822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3754682286774841822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3754682286774841822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/12/tonight-is-going-to-be-blast.html' title=''/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-443199689375553645</id><published>2007-12-04T08:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T08:49:50.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ok ok a real update...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I think part of me has been dreading this update because it means i have to write about something other than my feelings..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another part of me has been dreading it because i know it is going to take a long time to do it..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest part of me doesn't wanna do it because i haven't felt up to doing anything lately..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well, today is a new day!! I haven't been driven into the ground of depression today.. So i will update as much as possible before i go into my daily photobucket slump.........&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The biggest thing on my mind right now is where Konnor is and who's watching him. Now my son is a very happy healthy child who will get along with almost anyone! I love that little squirt, and he has been doing FABULOUS with his current babysitter, who is eddie's brother's mother-in-law. Well her daughter, Eddie's brother's g/f, is due to have a baby this week. So they are taking two weeks as a sort of "maternity leave" to get the baby home and on a sort of routine, which is no big deal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We just had to find another babysitter in the meantime. That proved to be a HUGE ordeal. Seeing as no one we know can watch konnor for almost two weeks. Except...... ((dun dun duhhhhhh)) His ex-girlfriends mother who does daycare for a living. Ugh. I DON'T like his ex girlfriend and would rather her mother not watch my son. The biggest problem is that its going to cost us... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;FOUR HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For 8 days of watching my child she is charging us $400!!!!!!!!!! Talk about taking advantage of someone in desperate need of a babysitter with little notice. I am outraged to say the least. I pay $125/week for daycare. That's it!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyways, enough ranting on that. :) Dang, i don't even remember what else i was going to talk about. I am slipping into wanting to just browse photobucket. That's when i know i need someone to bring me up. Cuz i am falling. And here we go talking about feelings. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;WAIT I REMEMBER!! ((trying so hard to not fall)) Konnor is into not wearing his diaper when he is wet or poopy. i think we are going to start potty training after he goes back to Tammy's ((babysitter)) .. I am going to buy him some pull ups and big boy underwear ((cars and sponge bob)). im sooooooooo excited!! We can tell he is going to catch on quick -- should be a breeze. He is a very smart little boy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For Christmas, i am going to buy him some coloring books and crayons, and an ABC coloring book. Then, mommy and Konnor are going to work on writing his name. Partly because i want him to learn how to write his name, and partly cuz i want my tattoo!!! :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Speaking of that tattoo... This is how its going to go. The first time he successfully writes his name all by himself ((and its legible, of course)) i am going to save it. Then i am going to dig up his little handprints from the hospital and i am going to have them tattooed on me. Probably on my side. Why?? Cuz he is my little boy, and i want to preserve his littleness forever. A part of him will ALWAYS be with me. And it'll be soooo much cuter than carrying pictures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jenny is going to get her precious puppy ((pit bull)) Lucy's name and paw prints in the same way. Yeah, we are cool like that!! It will probably be 10 years before we ACTUALLY get them done, but its gonna happen!! Maybe we can have them done when we go on vacation in August ((CUZ YOU ARE GOING, JENNY!!!))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Okay everyone, i dont know what else i have now. gotta get back to work. bye for now!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*.::ME::.*&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/4448196122553507262-443199689375553645?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/443199689375553645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=443199689375553645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/443199689375553645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/443199689375553645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/12/ok-ok-real-update.html' title='ok ok a real update...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-6582726723767295590</id><published>2007-12-04T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T08:16:38.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>history behind it all...</title><content type='html'>I choose to write of this because any of my readers who don't know me don't know the story behind the relationship.  I think i need to open up and give some brief details as to what has got me where i am....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I pretty much have decided that the relationship i am in is no longer worth my time or my heart.  It is cracking and breaking and shutting down more and more by the day.  i fear that if i let this on for too much longer, any hopes of repair will dissolve into nothingness and no longer will i be able to love.  Sad as this may seem, i find myself wondering how i am going to get through it all.  No doubt i will, but will such a battered heart, will i be able to love again?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Considering all things, i also find myself wondering if this was all a sham.  This is a most terrible thing to say, and i feel horrible in saying it, but i don't know anymore.  Four years of a sham hardly seems believable, but just before i got together with him, i was in a relationship with my first love.  True this guy was a disgusting cheater who broke my heart and left me cowering in a corner with my soul exposed and such heart at my feet, i still loved him.  With all of those broken little pieces, even though my head was screaming at me to leave it be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eddie came to my rescue in the days following, for he knew.  Me and this other guy were not yet broken up ((stupid me)) but he persuaded me that i deserved better and to take his hand.  When i did, i felt a surge of life thru me, and in time, my heart was healed by Eddie.  I had my guards up, and a couple weeks into the relationship, i broke it off.  I was afraid, as any girl should be.  It was too early for these feelings, and i didn't want to be hurt again.  NO, i wouldn't have it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A week later, we made up and got back together.  To make a long story short, when i got pregnant, eddie wasn't ready for such a committment and left me for drugs.  Sad to say, i know.  He wanted me to get an abortion, but having one previously, it wasn't going to happen.  He knew that and was still willing to risk the chance of my getting pregnant.  His stupidity.  We fought for weeks about if i was keeping it, and for a moment, i thought about it, to save the relationship.  Obviously, his screaming, yelling, and plotting did nothing.  I was strong and taking a stand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Throughout my pregnancy and into the first months of Konnor's life, i tried to bring back the relationship that would make us a family.  My strong will told me i shouldn't give up, even though my heart was again breaking before my very eyes.  Had i been smarter, i would have realized that Konnor would have gotten along without him, he was afterall, too young to know better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thank goodness for Jenny.  My once aquaintance thru Eddie's best friend, she had become my companion and best friend.  Through thick and thin, for better or worse ((not to sound like we were married)).  She had been dating Eddie's best friend, and that in itself was no roller coaster ride.  We were being strong for each other more than ourselves.  It was a miracle to have her around because in all honesty, i wouldn't have made it those months without her.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As i started to get over eddie, he pushed his way back into my life.  Over and over i said no as he insisted we get back together.  The weak heart inside of me was done screaming, and was now just a whisper telling me it couldn't take it anymore.  Not once did i listen to my heart when i should have.  It knew better than to let me forgive him.  But i did. and we began the journey of "fixing things"..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, a year and a half later, i am wishing i never would have let him into mine and Konnor's life.  In the beginning it was all peaches and cream, but now....... I hurt more and more everyday.  And now its not just my heart that hurts, but my entire body!!! My soul even.  I have to get my life straight, and get out of this situation before i dwindle to nothing inside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Thank goodness for my support system, and you know who you are!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-6582726723767295590?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/6582726723767295590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=6582726723767295590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6582726723767295590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6582726723767295590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/12/history-behind-it-all.html' title='history behind it all...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-6711477938034399246</id><published>2007-12-04T07:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T07:56:00.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'>fellow bloggers</title><content type='html'>Upon browsing thru others blogs in the NW area, i have come to the realization that probably 60% of them have an interest in photography..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which makes me wonder, what kind of photography?? just some point and shoot stuff, or are these people seriously trying to to make a living out of photography.. do they go out and take pictures in hopes of snapping that shot that will shoot them to the top?? or do they take pictures for friends and family of friends and family???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just some random thoughts running thru my head this morning.  Disaster hasn't struck in my life yet today, and i am in a fair mood.  I should take that and run with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh, im at work, so i am not holding my breath. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-6711477938034399246?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/6711477938034399246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=6711477938034399246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6711477938034399246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6711477938034399246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/12/fellow-bloggers.html' title='fellow bloggers'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-3020382611231626873</id><published>2007-12-03T10:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T10:54:19.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>untold truths</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;if a certain someone found this blog, i wonder what would happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;how angry would he be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;would he cry?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;would he scream at the top of his lungs until his voice went hoarse?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;what new things would he find to accuse me of?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;one day i will tell him about it.  not today. not tomorrow. not any day soon. but one day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-3020382611231626873?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/3020382611231626873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=3020382611231626873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3020382611231626873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3020382611231626873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/12/untold-truths.html' title='untold truths'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7362321457744815082</id><published>2007-12-03T08:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T10:42:17.990-08:00</updated><title type='text'>save me.......</title><content type='html'>I know i have said time and time again that i feel as if i am screaming at the top of my lungs in a crowded room, where no one can hear me. I think perhaps now i have degressed to something less in something more. Instead, i feel like i have been thrown into the icy cold atlantic, choking on the below freezing water, gasping for breath. All i am getting in return, however, is water in my lungs, and my body becoming stiff and frozen. I am breaking down from the outside in, or the inside out. i wish i knew, but i dont.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what can save me? who can save me? i dont have that answer. i am not entirely sure there is an answer at this point. all i know is im in too deep with where i am. i am about to hit rock bottom. i have to get out. soon. i dont want to be buried alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh my gosh!! all these analogies. im a living breathing walking analogy. if that doesn't make me want to scream, there is a list of other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this blog has gone from talking about my everyday life to talking about how i feel. how has it come to such? i dont know. no i didnt post since wednesday, because i took a couple days off of work. i helped jenny move and we hung out.  friday i was probably sincerely sick as my voice didn't want to cooperate when i talked, and i sounded like a 12 year old boy going thru puberty. no joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmmm.. i wish sleep would overcome me. im tired and worn out. yesterday was suppose to be a day of hanging out with eddie and konnor. it was a day of misery. fuck the world. and those who have turned their backs on me. when i needed them. because they couldnt handle who i had become. look at me now. im becoming stronger. and those who have stuck by my side and those who are joining my battle -- we will conquer this. i promise you. and i will be higher than i have ever been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-7362321457744815082?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7362321457744815082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7362321457744815082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7362321457744815082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7362321457744815082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/12/save-me.html' title='save me.......'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1209941398096680339</id><published>2007-11-28T07:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T08:10:40.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>what would it take??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&gt;&gt;for me to be a free spirit again?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;((and what does it mean to be free))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&gt;&gt;to become myself for me and not for him??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;((who did i used to be))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&gt;&gt;to let go of the sensation of our dysfunctional "love"??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&gt;&gt;to see clearly again??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&gt;&gt;to "know" i am happy??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt; ((what is happy))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&gt;&gt;for someone to understand what he has done??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&gt;&gt;to undo the damage he has inflicted upon my heart??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;    ((is it reversable))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&gt;&gt;to undo the damage to my soul??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;During this ever so difficult time in my life,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;i need someone.  Someone to hold me and hug me when i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;can't bear the burden of this pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;To wipe away my tears, and tell me that everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;will be okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;Who will just hold me while i cry,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;trying my best to be strong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;They will tell me to just let go, because&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;at a time like this,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;i dont need to be strong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;someone. who. cares.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-1209941398096680339?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1209941398096680339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1209941398096680339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1209941398096680339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1209941398096680339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-would-it-take.html' title='what would it take??'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-4214661805605682004</id><published>2007-11-27T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T08:18:31.967-08:00</updated><title type='text'>what it is. what it isnt.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;we were so cute in the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;nothing cute now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we were so in love at one point in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;that love is gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when it left, i used to wonder where it went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i dont care anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to be able to get lost in my dreams at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;i dont dream anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to think about how things could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;they can't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would daydream about how i wanted everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;i dont want anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to wonder how to make everything better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;nothing will be better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to write poetry of my paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;there is no paradise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;im not anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-4214661805605682004?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/4214661805605682004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=4214661805605682004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4214661805605682004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4214661805605682004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-it-is-what-it-isnt.html' title='what it is. what it isnt.'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1785537263093490001</id><published>2007-11-26T06:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T08:39:44.934-08:00</updated><title type='text'>oh the things that we did...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Jenny and i are complete lunatics and it shows in my voice and my sickness this morning for sure&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt; :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 8 pm Thanksgiving when Jenny called saying that Heather&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt; ((her friend)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;) &lt;/span&gt;had drove by Toys R Us in Clackamas, and much to every one's surprise, people were already in line!! Mach speed we drove to Wal-Mart for hand warmers and then to 7-11 for energy drinks, and were in line by 9pm. Not a half hour went by and half a dozen more people had gotten into line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It went well below freezing as we approached 3am Friday. Jenny and i were huddled underneath blankets watching "Lords of Dogtown" on her PSP. It was bitter cold and the wind was whipping. We were all out miserable. There was a rumor that there weren't many Zunes on stock, which is what everyone was waiting in line for. We were scared that we were waiting in line for nothing, and would be super bummed if they sold out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our fears were growing with the line, and the thought of rushing to the electronics section of the store when the doors opened at 5am was making our anxiety swell. It was around 315am when we received word that they were to hand out vouchers for the Zunes. Our spirits lifted only a little, as we still didn't know how many they had. We had determined that we were 8th &amp;amp; 9th in line, so as long as they had that many, we wouldn't be waiting for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4am was suppose to be the time that they handed the vouchers out. Well, that time came and went, and with each passing minute, we saw more and more people lining up behind us, and the dreaded line rushers were peeking their ugly heads around the corner. We were ready for them, and had already told the people in front of us that we were determined to not let them in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;445am rolled around, and we saw a TRU employee approach the door. this was it. Our hearts pumping, the employee came out and said that the shipment of Zunes they were expecting hadn't come in, so they had limited supply. They handed out what vouchers they had, and Jenny and I had to pretty much push&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt; ((and i felt a little bad))&lt;/span&gt; a little kid who was rushing to the front. We got ours and the person behind us got the last voucher. That was it. We were getting what we had come for. Standing in line for 8 hours was about to pay off!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;                          &lt;u&gt;We. Were. Ecstatic!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;The people behind us, however, were not. They had been in line almost as long as we had. Almost. The key word. Because they were not. They did not think far enough ahead to get out there early. Which i don't blame them. Jenny and I were out there at 3am the year prior, and were top 10 in line. Who woulda thunk the Zune would be THIS big. We didn't. But we were persistent, and we were about to get them in our hot hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giggling little girls is how the next 20 minutes went. For the most part. My brother's babysitters daughter saw is in line from back where she was, and wanted to cut. We were terrified at the thought because there was an angry mob behind who wasn't getting what they wanted. We found out that she wanted the PS2 and a camera, so we decided instead to pick it up for her and give it to her when she got in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, that worked out nicely! We were in and out of TRU in less than 20 minutes, and then had to RUSH to Target. You see, originally, i was suppose to have someone in line at Target for me, waiting to get in for the Kodak camera they were having on sale. Well, last minute they bailed, saying they got their license suspended. blah blah blah, anyways. Jenny and i got there, and were probably like 500th in line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Convinced that i wasn't going to get my camera, and cursing the weather, the line started moving half an hour later. the second that we were in the building, jenny and i darted towards the electronics department. we got up there mach speed and asked for a camera. They only had two poor people working the electronics department, and these two people were in charge of handing out cameras, xbox's, memory cards, etc. To say the least, these two people had the worst job in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until jenny got stuck. We were trying to get an xbox for my brother, and when jenny got pinned to the counter with two carts, she started handing out memory cards and flash drives to people. She should have been paid for it, i swear. haha. Finally, we got her out, and went to toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, they ran out of the Cars toys i wanted to get konnor just as we were getting there. I had my camera in hand, and that was the only other thing we needed. I was upset, but knew that he has plenty of gifts for the tree. So we left Target, shaken, but not stirred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next stop consisted of Kohls, which was across the parking lot. They opened at 4am, so i figured that they would have died down. We looked around, wondering what everyone was in line for. Around by the mens &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;((i think)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt; we saw it was the line to checkout!!! we asked an employee at the front of the line &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;((who we knew))&lt;/span&gt; how long it was.. She said 2 hours!!!! HAHAHAHA, needless to say, i didn't stand around to buy my pants. F that!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed straight for Fred Meyer to their famous sock sale after Kohls. They were much calmer than the three previous stores that we ventured too. Don't get me wrong, it was still a MADHOUSE, just less so than the others. We gathered socks, gloves, and whatever else we could find, and headed towards checkout. I was so tired by this time, i was ready to fall over and pass out. I felt icky, and didn't have the will to go on. Jenny's "hell n0 you aren't quiting now" got me into the groove again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following Fred Meyer, we went BACK to TRU. Yeah yeah we are probably crazy, tired, and delusional, but i needed k'nex @ 50% for my brother. Haha, too bad they were only the little kid k'nex that were on sale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving TRU, we headed for Joann's who was having hella deals on fabric.  We just wanted some fuzzy fabric to make blankets with.  Jenny and i are not good at sewing, but at 99 cents/yard, we were willing to learn.  Except........ The line to get fabric cut looked much like the line for Kohls.  The only difference being that you had to take a number &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;((like at DMV))&lt;/span&gt; and then wait for it to be called.  Yeah, they were on like b56, and the number we would have taken would have been like c75 or something like that.  haha, we said screw that!!! Totally not worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Saddened by our loss, we headed to Wal-Mart, which would be the biggest zoo of all, we were sure.  Sure enough it was packed with people, but they weren't being crazii and psycho.. Or maybe jenny and i were just wayyyyyyyy too tired to realize.  We laughed at nothing and i sat on cushions, we spent a lot of time in the pet department for no reason.  We walked and walked and laughed and joked and laughed more.  What did we laugh at?? I have no idea.  I fell on the ground laughing, and people probably thought i was drunk.  Yeah, from lack of sleep.  Wal-mart was the best.  Brian came to keep us company.  He had slept all night, after all. grrr on him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Finally, we went home and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;CRASHED!!!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;All in all, it was an eventful day that led us to spend too much money.  :) oh well. thats Black Friday for ya!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-1785537263093490001?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1785537263093490001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1785537263093490001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1785537263093490001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1785537263093490001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/oh-things-that-we-did.html' title='oh the things that we did...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7497441208062000310</id><published>2007-11-23T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T00:06:36.301-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Black friday</title><content type='html'>Sitting outside toys r us. Been here since 9 pm. Waiting for them to open at 5am. Want the 30gb zune. Soooo cold. Updates to come. Oh yeah we are the 2nd group in line. :) we rock. Hardcore. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-7497441208062000310?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7497441208062000310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7497441208062000310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7497441208062000310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7497441208062000310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/black-friday.html' title='Black friday'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7750952624809307007</id><published>2007-11-20T11:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T15:04:26.859-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My update and outlook on life are both pretty grim today.  Only for the fact that all the bad outweighs the good.  Some know why, and others have ideas.  Everyone as work is lost in oblivion.  I can deal with that, and wouldn't have it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to make good and happy with Konnor, and he knows something isn't right with mommy. He cuddles with me and loves on me more than normal.  I love it.  But don't like its because there's something wrong.  i try to mask the sadness, but he sees right through me. :) i love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm making the best with what i have, which results in having a smile on my face, and spending much time away from eddie.  i like when i get konnor from the babysitter, because it means i can do what i want and chances are he'll be at frisbee golf for much of the night.  i like when he is gone. i dont know why im so unhappy but i am. so these small retreats from him are much more of a relief than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hopefully, good developments, and even better news will come in the near future.  Dennis Dixon, the star quarterback for the Ducks, is out for the season with a torn ACL, so don't expect it before football season is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow is on the mountain, and expected to stay for a while.  Temps are rising in the next few days with the sunshine we are expected to have, so needless to say, some of it will melt. sad, i know, but it makes my day to check out &lt;a href="http://www.timberlinelodge.com/"&gt;www.timberlinelodge.com&lt;/a&gt; and see that snow that has fallen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-7750952624809307007?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7750952624809307007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7750952624809307007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7750952624809307007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7750952624809307007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-update-and-outlook-on-life-are-both.html' title=''/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-400556667950089343</id><published>2007-11-20T10:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T07:40:01.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>consuming me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;when will the tears cease&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;when will this pain stop &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;i feel like im falling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;im about to drop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;i cant stand to look at you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;through all of my tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;i cant believe i lasted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;for so many years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;i thought you would change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;you promised me so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;i should have known&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;that you'd bring me so low&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;now i sit here and scream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;in a big crowded room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;no one can here me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;instead they consume&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;consuming my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;on my feer they're feeding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;i cant help but cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;for my heart is bleeding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;no one can see me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;no one understands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;you mine as well kill me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;with your own two hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;i dont know which is worse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;to stay or to leave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;without you i'll be happier&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;thats what i believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;konnor will be too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;just so you're aware&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;although i cant be sure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;that you even care&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;its all about you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;what you want you get&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;im done with the bullshit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;im calling it quits!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;when our hearts no longer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;unite as one soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;the pain will come to a hault&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;and again i'll feel whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;goodbye friend and lover&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;of four long years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;im giving it up cutting it off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;so there are no more tears&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/4448196122553507262-400556667950089343?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/400556667950089343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=400556667950089343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/400556667950089343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/400556667950089343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/consuming-me.html' title='consuming me.'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1159268833362209477</id><published>2007-11-19T09:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T12:28:10.095-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I LOVE OREGON!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;This is going to be a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;loooooooooooooooong&lt;/span&gt; post, FYI... Jenny and my adventures this weekend are nothing less than spectacular.. Let's just say, we are a sort of local celebrity. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;. only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; we made the news. but let's not get ahead of ourselves. we'll just start from the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was decided long before that Friday we were going up to the mountain. There had to be snow somewhere, and we were determined to find it! A long trip up to Timberline proved to be not quite worth our time, but we saw snow! And we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;embraced&lt;/span&gt; it!! A snowball fight and some time later we decided to check out the scene at Mt. Hood Meadows. That was a bust!! What little snow there was you couldn't pack into a snowball. it was like ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night was a bad night for the mountain, and it showed in our spirits as we drove home. The hope of the mountain trip was flakes falling from the sky and a light dusting of snow on the ground. We got nothing of the sort, and depressed as we were, we made the best of it the ways we knew how!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday went by with nothing to speak of -- nothing eventful that is. Jenny worked while &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;konnor&lt;/span&gt; and i played. We just went about our business, of course checking the ski reports from time to time. We saw the possibility of snow that night and the following day, but our hopes were not something we were willing to give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all happened so fast on Sunday. I got up, Eddie left to play &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;frisbee&lt;/span&gt; golf&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; ((big f-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;surprise&lt;/span&gt;))&lt;/span&gt; and i got online. You know, just to check it out. I couldn't believe my eyes!!! Where there was no snow the night before on timberline, i could see white patches!! Watching the live cam, i saw the snow.. it was &lt;strong&gt;FALLING!!!&lt;/strong&gt; i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; jenny as fast as my little fingers would let me. Of course, she checked right away, and the excitement began to brew. We made plans of the mountain, and talk of how what and where began. Of course we'd have to wait until she was off work &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;((6 p.m. -- yuck!))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the computer for a few hours &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;((i did not want to))&lt;/span&gt; to get some shopping done and to pass the time. Kelly had come back into town, so we spend some time out and about. I was so excited -- it was raining &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; hard on the valley floor, and i could only dream what it was like at the mountain at each &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;precise&lt;/span&gt; moment!! I couldn't wait for jenny to be off of work -- i wanted up there!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i got home around 3 &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;((to do laundry and clean the car))&lt;/span&gt; i checked again.. There was a SERIOUS amount of snow!!! This storm wasn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;playin&lt;/span&gt; around! i was a tad bit scared of the hills to get to the mountain, and how bad they'd be, but hey, we had done it all last snow season with no chains or traction tires, so all should be well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha, that's where i was wrong. Jenny got to my house, we got our shit together, and left for the retreat of a lifetime!! Or maybe the adventure of a lifetime. Yikes! As we were driving up, we got higher and higher in elevation, and realized that the water on the road was becoming slush. And then, it was becoming snow. Uh oh. No plows yet. This storm had taken &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Odot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; ((our "trusty" department of transportation))&lt;/span&gt; completely by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;surprise&lt;/span&gt;. We pass a semi who is pulled over, then a truck, a car, and then.. we start to slide. Yeah, we aren't going ANY &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;further&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pull over, a feeling of defeat whooshing over our high hopes to sled at ski bowl. Of course, we aren't giving up -- you'd &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;hafta&lt;/span&gt; be dumb to think that. Jenny takes the wheel, and tries her luck, with nothing. Damn. Now, mind you, there have been cops &lt;strong&gt;EVERYWHERE&lt;/strong&gt; and an occasional ambulance storming up the mountain. A little afraid of getting a ticket &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;((and dying))&lt;/span&gt; we take a brake from trying to get back on the road. So we got outside, and started playing in the snow. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, just throwing snowballs at my stupid car, and wishing we could cry without our tears turning to ice cycles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Odot&lt;/span&gt; came up to check on all of us there were in a line, stuck, a few minutes after we got there. After hitting everyone else up, a nice guy asked us how we were. We lied, telling him that we were just waiting for a couple friends to bring us chains, and that we thought we had them, and didn't. We made nice with him when he saw our Oregon Ducks beanies, and struck up conversation. He left us with only a warning about chains, and went to check on another driver. Phew.... Thank goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued panicking, wondering what we were going to do, and throwing snowballs at my car out of frustration. Meantime, cars were coming up and down the mountain, not a care in the world. An SUV pulled over in front of us 10 or so minutes after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Odot&lt;/span&gt; left, and we thought he may be in the same predicament as us. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;, what a joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as he stepped out of the car, huge video camera in hand, we knew he wasn't stuck. A snow plow came by &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;((finally))&lt;/span&gt; and he filmed it go by. Then he came up to us, asked us how we were, and confirmed that we were stuck. That's when he asked if he could ask us a couple questions on camera. &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;((&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;NOOO&lt;/span&gt;!! i thought in my head))&lt;/span&gt; all that came out was "sure". So here we were, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt; beyond belief, and going to be on TV!!!! Here's a link to the segment. We're the ones that they considered to be stranded. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kptv.com/video/14637274/index.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;http://www.kptv.com/video/14637274/index.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching the man from fox 12 leave, we formed our game plan. We would wait until &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Odot&lt;/span&gt; wasn't looking, and then head up the rest of the way to Ski Bowl to &lt;strong&gt;PLAY IN THE SNOW!!&lt;/strong&gt;! yeah! So, again, Jenny hopped in the driver seat, and me riding shotgun &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;((i trusted her more to do it -- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;)),&lt;/span&gt; we waited patiently, and then were OFF!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found Ski Bowl 10 or 15 minutes later, and both let out a huge sigh of relief. Stupidly, we parked in a lot across from Ski Bowl, and not only found ourselves stuck but face to face with a police officer. He asked Jenny about the chains, to which she replied that we forgot them, and he told her that we park here or get a fat ticket. Well, if he was letting us off with a warning, we were gonna take it!!! &lt;strong&gt;NO DOUBT!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dodging &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Odot&lt;/span&gt; and a cop, and getting unstuck, we got back to Ski Bowl and had ourselves a few hours of pure bliss letting the snow fall around us, making a sled ramp, and eating fresh powdery snow that was untouched. It was a night to wash away our worries, even if only for a couple hours. It was well worth the wait, and all the hassle it took us to get up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way back down, jenny turned her phone back on &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;((it was almost dead, and we needed to preserve the battery since mine was dead))&lt;/span&gt; and saw that she had a couple text messages from various people who saw us on TV!!! THE 10 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;O'CLOCK&lt;/span&gt; NEWS!! AHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can honestly say that i am in love with the mountain. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; just glad my best friend is too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;:-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-1159268833362209477?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1159268833362209477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1159268833362209477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1159268833362209477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1159268833362209477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-love-oregon.html' title='I LOVE OREGON!!!'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-4398056732033451584</id><published>2007-11-16T11:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T11:32:03.224-08:00</updated><title type='text'>F$%K OREGON!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SICK OF THIS WEATHER!!! JUST GET COLD AND RAIN ALREADY!!! I WANT SOME GOD DAMN SNOW ON THE FREAKING MOUNTAIN!!!!&lt;/span&gt; seriously, we get snow at night, and then rain in the day, which melts the snow.... its &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;RIDICULOUS!!!!&lt;/span&gt; really, i wanna cry. suppose to be going to the mountain tonight.. pfft, whats the point. theres no snow. it may snow tonight, but not at ski bowl. more like timberline. ugh. makes me very very angry. stupid oregon weather. its suppose to &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;RAIN &lt;/span&gt;9 months out of the year here. but all we have is dry warm weather. jas;oritu EAkghfdakjzjgoeurt gjfds is what i have to say about &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;THAT!!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;**crying**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-4398056732033451584?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/4398056732033451584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=4398056732033451584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4398056732033451584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4398056732033451584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/fk-oregon.html' title='F$%K OREGON!!!!'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-6437146874484753995</id><published>2007-11-15T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T14:06:41.734-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the poor 80's shows</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Being born in 1987, i grew up with many 80's cartoons, which will always be classics to me. Why would you take a classic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; show and turn it into a movie 20 years later!?!??!?! are you mental?? probably...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;TMNT&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;The Smurfs&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Alvin and the Chipmunks&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Garfield&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Scooby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Doo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.... &lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Underdog&lt;/span&gt;..... even &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Loony Tunes&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;the list continues to grow as the idiots we know as writers and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;scripters&lt;/span&gt; come up with "great ideas" to real in the adult audience while &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;enticing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; children as well. i think that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Hollywood's&lt;/span&gt; need to "make a buck" outweighs the need for a good movie. Who really wants to see these once popular &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; shows made into cheesy films..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;despicable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-6437146874484753995?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/6437146874484753995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=6437146874484753995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6437146874484753995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6437146874484753995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/poor-80s-shows.html' title='the poor 80&apos;s shows'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-2032078501041592508</id><published>2007-11-15T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T07:43:27.562-08:00</updated><title type='text'>feelings thru song</title><content type='html'>I wanna run away&lt;br /&gt;Never say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;I wanna know the truth&lt;br /&gt;Instead of wondering why&lt;br /&gt;I wanna know the answers&lt;br /&gt;No more lies&lt;br /&gt;I wanna shut the door&lt;br /&gt;And open up my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I feel?&lt;br /&gt;I've been here before&lt;br /&gt;I've felt this&lt;br /&gt;Retreat to a place,&lt;br /&gt;A place within me&lt;br /&gt;I need this.&lt;br /&gt;Keep it all down,&lt;br /&gt;Bottled inside&lt;br /&gt;It breaks me.&lt;br /&gt;To torment again&lt;br /&gt;And torture me&lt;br /&gt;Like it used to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my december&lt;br /&gt;These are my snow covered dreams&lt;br /&gt;This is me pretending&lt;br /&gt;This is all i need&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she can't hide no matter how hard she tries&lt;br /&gt;Her secret disguised behind the lies&lt;br /&gt;And at night she crys away her pride&lt;br /&gt;With eyes shut tight staring at her inside&lt;br /&gt;All her friends know why she can't sleep at night&lt;br /&gt;All her family asking is she alright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To find myself again&lt;br /&gt;My walls are closing in&lt;br /&gt;(Without a sense of confidence I’m convinced that there’s just too much pressure to take)&lt;br /&gt;I've felt this way before&lt;br /&gt;So insecure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find the answers aren't so clear&lt;br /&gt;Wish I could find a way to disapear&lt;br /&gt;All these thoughts they make no sense&lt;br /&gt;I find bliss in ignorence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theres something about songs that help me to understand how it is that im feeling. happiness is not me. when i start listening to staind and linkin park, i know something is wrong. whether its deep in my head or if i can find it staring me straight in the face. something is up. this time, i am going to have to dig, although i know part of what is bothering me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate being unhappy. its just getting worse, not better. i think i am getting really irritated and flustered because eddie is finally trying to make things between us better. yeah, i want to be with him for konnor's sake. but i dunno if i wanna be with him for me. or if id find more happiness elsewhere. gosh, this stinks!! my thoughts my dreams and my intuition is making it difficult. the last three nights have been odd, with weird dreams that keep me awake, and paranoid about things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like, the night before last i kept thinking someone was gonna break into my car. so i kept waking up, or getting up rather, and peeking through the living room curtains to make sure all was quiet. every little sound had me up again, even if i was just up 2 seconds before. it was pure hell. i was up for 3 hours i think CONVINCED due to paranoia that my car was going to become victim to tweakers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont understand. a couple weeks ago i was content with life and the way i was living, and now. . . now i am a total emotional train wreck!! i mean, im not constantly crying, but i am constantly typing. wondering. thinking. dreaming. hoping. screaming inside. i type things, and delete them. i talk to myself ((no im not crazii)) acting out what i want to happen in my life ((which never will)). possibly i need a psych evaluation, but im sure most people in their lives go through this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;although, the last time, i was young and "depressed" even though i didn't know what life was. it was a hard time in my life. i was "in love" with someone far far away ((okay, 4 hours)) who i wasn't really happy with but i wanted someone to tell me they loved me.. ((sounds like a pattern to me)).. UGH!! im a dependant person.. thats it. i need help. damn. what to do NOW??!?!?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-2032078501041592508?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/2032078501041592508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=2032078501041592508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/2032078501041592508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/2032078501041592508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/feelings-thru-song.html' title='feelings thru song'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-2367350031151095217</id><published>2007-11-14T11:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T12:06:43.439-08:00</updated><title type='text'>one day skipped...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;my gosh, i can barely believe i didn't post yesterday! :) There was, however, a reason for such. Konnor was sick w/ a high fever most of Monday, and i couldn't bear to take him to the babysitters on tuesday when he was still pretty hot. Poor little guy. A dose of Tylenol, and a couple movies later, he was a bundle of energy wanting to go top speed around the house! Try as i might, i was unable to keep him calm, so we played for most of the afternoon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Today, he is better, so i am regrettably back at work, and he at the babysitters. Which is well, because i can't really afford to miss work, and he needs a normal schedule. Yeah right, we are anything but normal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Anyways, Jenny and i continue to formulate our "Black Friday" plans as more ads are leaked onto the internet. We are torn as to what store we should be "stake out." I'm sure that until all the ads are out, and we can go over what all we want/need/can have, that will be determined. Konnor is staying at home with my mom, i am trying to talk my sister into going, and my mom is wondering if she should make my 14 year old brother watch my son. So much is going on and changing that our plans will change 20 times between now and then. Which is okay, i just won't waste much time telling you which plan we have this second, because it will change the next.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;We do a few things that we want, which includes a 30Gb Zune MP3 player for $80 @ toys 'r' us. I imagine those will go fast, so im thinking that store will be the one we stake out. A lesson learned from last year though: get your sh*t and get out. Otherwise, its going to take you, and this is no exaggeration, TWO HOURS to checkout. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;We also want k'nex ((50-60% off at toys 'r' us)), an 8mg kodak digital camera for $89 @ Target ((which im sure is going to go fast as well)), and the famous 50% off all socks at fred meyer. We are keeping very close watch on what ads are posted and what sales are going on. There's currently a rumor about a very very very good deal on an xbox 360 at a certain store. I'm not leaking any information until it is certain, but if it is, my mom will definately be out in the crowds this year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Also, in Alex news. Plans are being formed in my mind about a current situation which involves my home life. More on that as it comes about, but let's just say this roller coaster.. don't wanna do it. I just need to figure out how i can prevent world war 4. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;until next time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;loves,&lt;br /&gt;*.::me::.*&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/4448196122553507262-2367350031151095217?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/2367350031151095217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=2367350031151095217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/2367350031151095217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/2367350031151095217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/one-day-skipped.html' title='one day skipped...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-8985162343631117294</id><published>2007-11-12T11:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T14:48:56.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>updates on misc...</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;DUCKS UPDATE:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My beloved ducks did not play over the weekend, their game is this Thursday, November 15&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, at 6pm ((i get off at 7pm.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;grr&lt;/span&gt;)) vs Arizona. This game should be an easy win, but we should not get ahead of the game. Much can happen in one game, seeing as Ohio ((ranked #1)) lost to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;unranked&lt;/span&gt; Illinois over the weekend, bringing Oregon to the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;NUMBER TWO &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;BCS&lt;/span&gt; standings!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;wahoo&lt;/span&gt;!!! That makes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;LSU&lt;/span&gt; ranked #1... Chances of us going for the national championship: pretty f-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; good!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ohio&lt;/span&gt; hasn't had their bi-week yet ((meaning a week they don't play)) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt;.... They could drop in the rankings even &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;further&lt;/span&gt;. Hot on our trail, unfortunately, is Kansas ((10-0)) and Oklahoma ((9-1))..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;...the best is yet to come...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;SNOW UPDATE:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;So.... With the big wind/rain storm we are having today, and the precipitation over the weekend, we are seeing snow on the mountain. This &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;friday&lt;/span&gt;, Jenny and i will be making our first trip up there to see what can be done. Of course we will go up with all the necessary equipment in hopes that this week brings enough snow to start our sledding adventures once again. it is currently 37 degrees at ski bowl, with showers ((not snow showers)).. however, over night, any precipitation will be snow, which is exciting. currently, ski bowl has been wiped away of all snow that accumulated over night ((very frustrating))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;the fact of the matter is, jenny and i are keeping our hopes and dreams of snow by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;friday&lt;/span&gt; ALIVE!!! you should too darn it!! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;WORK UPDATE:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;yeah, it still sucks, and i hate it. Today it is very windy and rainy here in the great NW, which means, working at the electric company,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#990000;"&gt;BUSY!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;there are outages everywhere, trees down, lines down, transformers blowing. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ARG&lt;/span&gt;!!!! seriously, my goodness... its died down a LOT from this morning, but we are still busy. i am going to apply for some other positions that take me OFF the phone, and hope that is accomplished before we end up with a HUGE outage. Although if that happens ((which will be later in the winter season)) i will probably have to come in anyways. Oh well, i get paid enough i guess..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Oh yeah, and there's the fact that i can't go through with my plan to work 4 days next week and get rid of my car. i can't sell my car for enough money to be able to go down to 4 days. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; super depressed about that, but you know... sheet happens, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;HMMM&lt;/span&gt;, i dunno what other updates i can possibly have... so until tomorrow...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;loves,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff99;"&gt;*.::me::.*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-8985162343631117294?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/8985162343631117294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=8985162343631117294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8985162343631117294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8985162343631117294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/updates-on-misc.html' title='updates on misc...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-8626036673986644322</id><published>2007-11-12T08:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T11:54:28.053-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the tale of the haircut...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Thursday evening was "attemp to get Konnor's haircut" evening. I wanted it done. He is starting to look like a little girl &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;((again))&lt;/span&gt; and i can't stand when people say "oh your daughter is so beautiful".. seriously, he doesn't look like a little girl, even with longer hair. anyways, i take the hint as needing to cut his hair. So we took him to the same place as last time, and he seemed okay. well, not really. instead, he screamed. &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;NOTHING&lt;/span&gt; would calm him down. Eddie tried sitting with him, i tried sitting with him, we tried what we could. So we took konnor home w/o a hair cut.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Screw it, i kept thinking, im gonna do it myself. So sunday morning konnor and i got up and went to good ol' wal-mart at 9:30am &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;((still havent set the clocks back, so i thought it was 10:30))..&lt;/span&gt; it was nice for a sunday trip seeing as everyone was still at church, and we got front row parking. &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;((i know how amazing that is))&lt;/span&gt; inside, konnor was suprisingly good, and sat most of the time. We found a $30 complete hair cutting kit and were set. With only needing that, we were in and out in under an hour. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;((yes i stopped in a few different departments))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Anyways, so we got to my house, and i emptied the contents of the box onto the dining room table. There were more pieces then i could count. Dear goodness, which things do i use?? I settled for a #4 and the main contraption that plugs in. I have seen the pros do it a hundred times. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to get this going. I put the #4 onto the main thing and plug it in. Now for the moment of truth.... did i buy a &lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;P.O.S.&lt;/span&gt; that doesnt work or do i get to cut my childs hair today?? it starts buzzing and vibrating. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;SUCCESS!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Konnor, of course, comes in to explore. i am frantically wondering what the best technique is going to be. This thing is obviously going to be scary. Tickle is what i came up with as konnor looked at me and then this thing and back at me. I touched it to my skin and started laughing. Then took it off, put it back on and said "tickle, tickle, tickle." If he falls for this, im a genious i thought thinking that it wasn't going to happen. He reluctantly, to my suprise, held out his hand with this little smile. "tickle tickle" i said as i touched it to him. His grin spread almost from ear to ear. Ha, this is in the bag i thought. So i tickled up his arm and to his hair. &lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;ZZZZZZZZZZ&lt;/span&gt;, and the hair fell. "oh my god, what am i doing" i started to panick. i dont want his hair short. :( &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Half hour of "tickling" later it was done. Very very short, much shorted than i'd have liked. But done, none the less. the mess was out of this world. there was hair everywhere, including all over me, cuz at the end, konnor decided that it would be &lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;MUCH&lt;/span&gt; nicer to sit in mama's lap while the tickling happened. He stopped liking it about 10 minutes into it, and i had to use some mad coaxing skills to finish the job.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;here is a before and after. disregard the quality of the pics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/Photo-0869.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/Photo-0869.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://a338.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/27/l_8d654690bc544dc3fcec50c04edd3df1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://a338.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/27/l_8d654690bc544dc3fcec50c04edd3df1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I know that the pic of him and his pumpkin isn't good at showing how long his hair was, but it was in his eyes. now i think im gonna let his hair grow and just trim it up when it gets too long. his hair is &lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;ADORABLE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt; when its long, and this short business just doesn't work for me.  So yeah, my decision:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;NO MORE SHORT HAIR FOR KONNOR!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/4448196122553507262-8626036673986644322?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/8626036673986644322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=8626036673986644322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8626036673986644322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8626036673986644322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/tale-of-haircut.html' title='the tale of the haircut...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-4423533415463951573</id><published>2007-11-09T10:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T10:57:44.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So last night, as i was laying in bed, trying to slip off into dreamland, i was watching konnor. Holding his baby doll close to him, patting her back. I laid there and strained to remember how and when this little baby, wearing a purple onesie w/ a ladybug on front, came to live with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Jenny, Konnor, and i were making a trip to the Dollar Tree for some "necesities" &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;((of which i dont remember what those were. go figure)).&lt;/span&gt; As we were walking, talking strolling the isles, we came to toys. Now, Konnor LOVES toys, and Jenny &amp;amp; I, being kids ourselves, do as well. So here we are, finding many things to distract us from everyday life &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;((as we tend to do))&lt;/span&gt; when we see a pile of baby dolls. We hand one to Konnor, just playing around, and he brings it right up to him and &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;HUGS&lt;/span&gt; it.. I kid you not, my child took to this baby just like that!! He loves babies, especially Kelly's baby, Caleb, but never did i think this would happen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;We let him continue to hold onto it, but i knew i couldn't buy it. No, eddie wouldnt have it, my mom would laugh, and i would be embarrased. So, being the mommy that i am, told Auntie Jenny to take it. She looked at me and did. Boy, that was the wrong move. he &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;CRIED&lt;/span&gt;!! So, naturally, she gave it back. And wouldn't you know, right back up to the chest that baby went, and Konnor loved on it so tightly, unwilling to let go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;20 minutes later, and many isles passed, Konnor saw something interesting. Memory failing me, i dont remember what it was that he was playing with, but i sneakily took the baby and hid it behind my back. The goal was to put the baby down somewhere, and leave it. Moments later, however, my son realized that the baby was missing, and frantically started looking for it. He started to whine, and the fact that it was &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;soooooooooo&lt;/span&gt; cute, mommy gave it up. For a third time, he clutched onto that baby like it was life or death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;At that time, i realized Konnor was leaving the dollar tree with a baby. Eddie was gonna flip, i kept thinking. Oh well, i kept telling myself, maybe he should spend more time with him. As we approached the register, i didn't know how i was going to pry the baby from Konnor's hands long enough to have it scanned without him getting upset. He was, afterall, convinced that mommy was trying to rid him of it. It was a quick manouver, a fast swipe by the checker, a quick giggle from jenny, and a tiny "&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ehh&lt;/span&gt;" from Konnor, and then it was over. it was paid for. and konnor was being carried out of the Dollar Tree by Jenny, carrying his first baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Eddie, suprisingly said nothing except "&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;its just a toy&lt;/span&gt;" when i told him that our son was the very proud owner of a baby doll. I almost hit the floor when he said this. My mother's response was much the same, until she saw the way Konnor has given the baby lovings. Now she finds it absolutely adorable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Since that night, Konnor has wrapped the baby in a blanket, carried it around, and slept nearly every night with it. You tell him to give his baby kisses, and he does. right on the forehead, the face, or wherever. On the downside, the poor baby has been hauled around so much the clothing is tattered and worn and is missing one eye. It's very creepy looking straight at you with its one good eye. But konnor still insists on having it, and loves that baby every single day. He'll be a good big brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I smiled, watching him hold that little baby that means so much to him, and drifted off to sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-4423533415463951573?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/4423533415463951573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=4423533415463951573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4423533415463951573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4423533415463951573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/remembering.html' title='Remembering...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-4507670345719382160</id><published>2007-11-08T08:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T13:36:59.872-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...((no subject))...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Sometimes i wonder if i am a good enough mommy.. Last night i dropped konnor off with eddie, and he was being the biggest jerk in the world.. he was yelling saying that i was going to cheat on him and that i didn't tell him that i was leaving konnor. blah blah blah. anyways, i am running &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;((literally))&lt;/span&gt; up the stairs, to minimize the inevitable when i hear it. the crying. then turns to screaming. he is at the bottom of the stairs looking for me, and eddie "konnor come here" in his jerky voice he does. i am watching thru the door &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;((konnor cant see me - im at top of the stairs outside))&lt;/span&gt; and see konnor running back towards eddie. green means go. i take it as my sign it'll be okay. can't help but feel guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny and i get to La Careta &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;((her absolute &lt;strong&gt;FAVORITE&lt;/strong&gt; place to eat-mexican))&lt;/span&gt; and we are sitting there, talking and what not, and i hear a baby crying somewhere near. I felt this guilty feeling setting in. then the crying baby, held by mommy, walked by, and jenny and i both started talking about how weird it was for konnor not to be there. He &lt;strong&gt;ALWAYS&lt;/strong&gt; is with us when we go, and always proves to be an adventure. such as throwing rice everywhere &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;((trying to eat it, of course))&lt;/span&gt; or spilling the water, throwing sugar packets everywhere, and eating forkfulls of salsa and then licking his arm trying to get the hot taste out of his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, that child is something else. i know i say it all the time, but he is weird just like his auntie jenny and his mommy, and i love him soooo much. i tell him i love him to infinity and beyond now. anyways, so after dinner, the guilt subsided, and seeing as it was 8:30ish, i knew he was probably missing mommy but trying to go to sleep. he never does this when im not home. go to bed for the night that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the guilt died as we drove, sang, and talked for a while longer. for the sake of not allowing you to fall asleep, i will spare details. lets just say i had a lot of fun last night in the most suttle way. jenny knows what happened and what was talked about, and that's all that matters. it was very calming in a sense and overall extremely enjoyable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eddie doesnt even remember that he woke up at 1130 to let me in. and seeing as how i was gone before he got up, thinks i stayed somewhere else. what an idiot. that ought to be a fight later. grrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night, when i got home, konnor stopped cuddling with eddie, and laid - right. with. me. hes my littlest rock. one in a milllion. its times like that when i know im a good enough mommy.. and i cant ask for anything more..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;loves,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;*.::me::.*&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/4448196122553507262-4507670345719382160?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/4507670345719382160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=4507670345719382160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4507670345719382160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4507670345719382160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/sometimes-i-wonder-if-i-am-good-enough.html' title='...((no subject))...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-499408642246689511</id><published>2007-11-07T11:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T11:48:25.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pictures pictures.. yay for pictures!!</title><content type='html'>Here they are... some of the pics from our halloween festivities.. enjoy!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Carving pumpins.. or eating them rather??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a849.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/31/l_0d5b5c0a706865a059b65c1a5280a738.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finished pumpkins. Konnor's left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a271.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/66/l_1167730a5cbd1ecf26cfba5a27b02c9e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little dinosaur!! his tail wiggled when he walked!! hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a275.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/70/l_dc7f9e350b9e34b4ee0b1139fbd656b2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; Kelly, Me, Konnor, and Jenny. the prehistoric gang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a387.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/121/l_4d705360127f4922c458815228c3c7c2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenny, Kelly, and myself getting ready to drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a321.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/45/l_663de75a7b820cfe4a301ca89844cbb0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me (queen cavewoman??) jenny and kelly &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***TRASHED***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a38.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/75/l_27fedc485ea1678aa1795e7a9c7ef9a5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/4448196122553507262-499408642246689511?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/499408642246689511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=499408642246689511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/499408642246689511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/499408642246689511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/pictures-pictures-yay-for-pictures.html' title='pictures pictures.. yay for pictures!!'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-8935292244963193422</id><published>2007-11-07T08:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T07:44:54.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>blah blah blah. ((no title))</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;reading what i wrote on monday, and on tuesday, i was in a deep rutt. my heart hurt, my soul hurt, i physically and psychologically hurt. i was so near the edge and ready to have a breakdown that i could see it -- almost predict when it was going to happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;yesterday, late afternoon, there was a breakthrough. a tiny ray of light started to shine into my dark life. jenny and i hadn't really talked since saturday. long story. but to sum it up we have both been in this crappy time and has wanted to talk to no one. i dont think i have felt so alone. anyways we finally got to email and it was soooooooooooooooooo nice!! hopefully we get to hang out as planned tonight after she gets off work. a small escape for our lives should prove to be beneficial for both of us. i work at 7a.m. tomorrow, which is the ONLY downfall. we'll see how this pans out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;i work 7-4 today, which means eddie takes konnor to daycare. he tried to fight this when i woke up this morning. i told him that it was early for me, and pretty much, he didn't care. i was trying to get konnor back to sleep (it was 5:30am) when he started this nonsense, and i knew it wasn't going to happen, so i left. poor konnor was crying and i told eddie to cuddle him. his response: "i dont do that" i cried the entire way to my house to get ready and a good part of the way to work. eddie has no patience in the morning with anyone, let alone an upset child. i often wonder what goes on when i am not there. have thought of a nanny cam, but i dont think id want to see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;needless to say, this morning was a setback. i am so torn between wanting konnor to have a daddy and kicking his stupid ass to the curb. yeah, we have fun, when he spends time with us. he can be a really great guy and super sweet. but lately, the last thing he wants to do is spend time with us and has been in severe jerk mode. im so freaking confused!!!! either way, i am screwed. he already told me he'll fight if we break up. he thinks he'll get konnor. he wont. thats a given. i support both of them. minus car insurance. and then there's the whole cell phone thing. i don't want to cancel the freaking phone. GAH!! that's a lotta freaking money. i dont know. pretty much, whether i like it or not, im going to be stuck with him for the rest of my life. together or not. i just need to get him out of jerk mode, and we'll be okay. i think. i hope. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;my semi good day seems to be getting worse and worse now. i just found out that i have been doing a major process wrong for quite some time. and it caused a customer to get over charged and almost disconnected. now i say almost, b/cuz they didn't get their power shut off. only because the customer called, thank goodness. i hate doing things wrong, and will beat myself up about it for quite some time following. work today is just lame, and i would appreciate it if i could go home. haha. wishes... ok, there are a lot of calls waiting to be answered, so i will push the buttom of doom and let everyone else get back to their lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;loves a lot,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;*.::me::.*&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/4448196122553507262-8935292244963193422?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/8935292244963193422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=8935292244963193422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8935292244963193422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8935292244963193422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/reading-what-i-wrote-on-monday-and-on.html' title='blah blah blah. ((no title))'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-3263910057279326175</id><published>2007-11-06T12:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T15:06:13.794-08:00</updated><title type='text'>this child of mine...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;i continue to find strength and an ounce of happiness in keeping up with this blog. taking away from everyday life, and letting my fingers take me to a more joyful place is probably how i keep my sanity here at work. if they ever blocked this website, i would probably quit on the spot. i can't deal with customers' stupidity any more than i can deal w/ eddie's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night Konnor fell asleep on me again. I was laying on my side, completely pissed off at eddie, and konnor made sure i got my smooches and then laid his head on my shoulder, with his arm over me. i was facing away from him, and he must have been halfway standing. i didnt think he was asleep but rolled over and carefully laid him down, just in case. his little eyes were closed and he was sleeping soundly. i almost cried. i dont see how he could have slept like that, but he is so full of love, especially for his mommy. he can tell when mommy is upset, and tries with all his might to make me better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know what i'd do without him. everyday he smiles at me and loves me before i leave for work. i love waking him up in the morning to get him ready to go to Tammy's. when i get to work, his smiling face is beaming at me from my computer screen. I get to look at those gorgeous blue eyes whenever i want, whether it be picture or presence. it sucks that i cant be with him all the time. GAH!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of all this, he finished his first full week of daycare last friday. $125 out of my pocket, and a happy child, to say the least. It's just him, as far as kids go, but he loves everyone who is at that house, and they give him lots of attention. He is learning a lot of new words, and his speech is going to soar in a few months, maybe sooner. i can tell!! i also found this in a website about child development and milestones :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;A Toddler Making a Tower of Blocks&lt;br /&gt;Most kids have fun playing with blocks. It is doubtful that any of them realize that stacking blocks into a tower is actually an important developmental test. Making a tower of blocks is usually considered to be a visual-motor/problem solving milestone, and most kids can make a tower of:&lt;br /&gt;2 blocks by 15 to 21 months&lt;br /&gt;4 blocks by 17 to 24 months&lt;br /&gt;6 blocks by 18 to 30 months&lt;br /&gt;8 blocks by 24 to 36 months&lt;br /&gt;9 blocks after 3 years&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;I am proud to say that my son made not one, not two, but three block towers of 12 blocks!! On #13, they would tumble. He easily makes it to 10 &amp;amp; 11. Now if only i could get him to talk way ahead of the game. :) its okay, i am proud of my little munchkin. He will be wise beyond his years, much like mommy. let's just hope he doesn't get daddy's temper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-3263910057279326175?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/3263910057279326175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=3263910057279326175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3263910057279326175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3263910057279326175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/this-child-of-mine.html' title='this child of mine...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1479528169222946660</id><published>2007-11-06T08:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T12:41:42.351-08:00</updated><title type='text'>end of daylight savings time</title><content type='html'>not only does it officially mark fall season, it marks rain. it means that no matter when i leave work, its going to be dark. Which means no more time for the park when i'm off at 4 with konnor. not to mention the rain is coming on thursday. its been pretty dry for the last couple of weeks -- unheard of in october for oregon.. it always rains on halloween -- not this year. it was wonderful. i only stand the rain because i know that means snow on the mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its also a cold hard reality that the holidays are among us. that something i can do without, even though i am really excited. but for some reason the holidays bring me down. just there's so much to do, yet nothing at all. then the big christmas day comes, and i am relieved of all stress!!! i dont understand and i don't expect to ever understand. between the weather and how much i have to do, i believe that is the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, as daylight savings times end, we no longer have warm lighted evenings after work, and have to bundle ourselves and children extra warm for the day.  The temperatures are dropping. that i am ok with. i just hate the dark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-1479528169222946660?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1479528169222946660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1479528169222946660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1479528169222946660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1479528169222946660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/end-of-daylight-savings-time.html' title='end of daylight savings time'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-8704409926273634856</id><published>2007-11-05T12:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T15:06:59.364-08:00</updated><title type='text'>big savior. little child.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;if i weren't so sad, you may be able to see a smile on my face&lt;br /&gt;if i my heart weren't shattered, possibly there'd be some love 4 u there&lt;br /&gt;perhaps i could cry some more and create the river&lt;br /&gt;from the canyons that the pain has chisled into my soul&lt;br /&gt;and then, maybe, i will drown from the sorrow and the pain&lt;br /&gt;gasping for air as my head is held beneath the water&lt;br /&gt;flowing with the river, as the darkness begins to take over&lt;br /&gt;losing conciousness, unable to reach the surface&lt;br /&gt;a small round face with big blue eyes appears before me&lt;br /&gt;reaching out a tiny little hand, i reach back&lt;br /&gt;the water drains, i cease to cry&lt;br /&gt;the crevasis are gone, my soul is healed&lt;br /&gt;my heart becomes whole, and i can feel it swell with love&lt;br /&gt;the sadness is wiped away, and i smile.&lt;br /&gt;one tiny little boy whispering "mama" has come to my rescue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;i. am. happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-8704409926273634856?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/8704409926273634856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=8704409926273634856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8704409926273634856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8704409926273634856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/big-savior-little-child.html' title='big savior. little child.'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7479638693704457141</id><published>2007-11-05T08:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T09:40:19.139-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad day'/><title type='text'>i hate today.</title><content type='html'>today is not a good day. i woke up in a good mood. i got konnor up and he was a bit fussy, but that, of course, had to do with the cold he's fighting right now. got us both ready and we left. took konnor to the babysitter's. he cried, cuz he knew i was gonna leave. so i sat on the floor and let him love on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tammy said her son, Jason, saw eddie friday at the high school football game. fuck. this isn't happening. he neglected konnor and myself all weekend, and now to find THIS out. i think something is going on. actually, i am almost positive this to be a fact. i wanted to call in. i dont think i can deal with this right now. this is the second weekend in a row he hasn't spent time with his family. i have felt so alone. its normal, b/cuz we are suppose to be there for each other, be a team. there is no "i" in team. i guess there is in this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i texted him "FUCK YOU" and have yet to get a response. that was an hour ago. he's at work. im contemplating. his priorities are all fucked up, everything seems to agree on that. i dont know what else to do to get it through his head. i think i wanna be free. free to party or workout or talk to who i want to talk to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my heart hurts, and konnor is the only thing in this world that makes me happy. he makes me smile, and is ALWAYS there for me. can't say so much about anything else in my life. konnor is my life. i work for him, i breathe for him, i drive 50 miles a day for him. so that he can be happy, have food &amp;amp; clothes, and have a happy life. i always smile when i see him, and can't really be unhappy when he is around. when i cry, he loves on me. he will walk right up to me and force me to let him hug me. he will give me smooches and pat my back until im okay. his love is so much stronger and purer than any adults. he is me and i am him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll be okay. with or without eddie. only the end of day can show me where his heart lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;**UPDATE** i brought pictures to work of halloween. i keep having to look at a pic of konnor in his ADORABLE dinosaur costume to keep myself smiling and continue the will to go on with work. i started at 8:30 a.m. and have no break until 11 a.m. its going to be hell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-7479638693704457141?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7479638693704457141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7479638693704457141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7479638693704457141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7479638693704457141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-hate-today.html' title='i hate today.'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-9102859446063320226</id><published>2007-11-02T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T09:22:26.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love -- Mine does not compare</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Everyday i am amazed by Konnor's ability to absorb and comprehend what you tell him, or others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;most of all, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;i am amazed by his compassion and caring attitude.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Just last night, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;he gave me a kiss and turned and gave eddie a kiss.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;He went back and forth for about 5 minutes, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;just loving on us.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Then he wrapped his little arms around my neck and&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;squeezed.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;then just laid there, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;arms around me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;watching tv,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; for the longest time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;he makes me happy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;i can't imagine what life was like b4 him.&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/4448196122553507262-9102859446063320226?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/9102859446063320226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=9102859446063320226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/9102859446063320226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/9102859446063320226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/love-mine-does-not-compare.html' title='Love -- Mine does not compare'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-8353166022030780710</id><published>2007-11-02T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T14:47:26.872-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween thru my eyes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;hmmm, where to begin. i think my cheesy poem put it damn near perfect.. haha.. as far as the timeline.. so how about i just start with Halloween day, 2pm...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I got off of work, super excited. i drove to get Konnor, and Tammy &lt;babysitter&gt;was like "whoa, what are you doing here so early?" of course i told her the day before. hehe. she remembered it was Halloween, and all clicked. I&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;should probably tell you that Jenny and i were up the evening before until 2 a.m. working on our costumes (which still were not done) and then had to be up at 5:30a.m. Soooo, needless to say, i was VERY tired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Too bad Konnor already had his nap, cuz i wanted to go home and sleep. Kelly also called to remind me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;that we needed more from Wal-mart. Ugh. i think this is the first time i have NOT wanted to go to wal-mart. Oh well, whatcha gonna do? Had to get everything we needed for the&lt;br /&gt;"party".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;We get to wal-mart and are doing our shopping, and Konnor starts to cry. And he does that thing again, but this time doesn't pass out. Kelly grabbed him from the cart and held him to make him calm down. Thank god for Kelly, cuz&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;i wasn't able to cope with it at the time - too tired plus just out of it. So i took care of caleb while she entertained konnor. THANK YOU KELLY!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Once the wal-mart schindig was over, we walked outside and put everyone in the car. Now, we realized at that point that there was something attached to Caleb's car seat. Something that&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Konnor wanted when we were in the store, and figured, since it would make him happy, that he could have it while in the store. Sneaky little shit. Haha. No seriously though, it was a balloon. I dont know HOW the cashier didn't see it or the greeters. Maybe same way WE didn't see it?? Dear god, we felt so bad. But of course we didn't take it back -- haha, i dont think so!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Blah blah blah, 6 o'clock comes around, and its time to get the kids ready and go visit kelly's grandparents (on ben's side). Konnor is loving his dinosaur outfit, and i am loving that he loves it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;We get there, and they try to say hi to konnor and love on him. Okay, thats NOT happening!!! He has met these people, once, maybe twice, and my son does not dig strangers. He will cling to me like glue-and he did. We did manage some pictures of him and caleb, but not enough to satisfy the mommy's, i dont think. Not having a digital camera really upsets me, because i am a picture taking fool. Can't do that if i dont have a camera. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Did i mention Kelly's PSYCHOTIC mother and her crazy brother came over too? oh my god, i hate her mother and her brother is just something else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Her mom wanted konnor to want her SOOOOO bad, and it was funny when she held him, and he slid himself right off her lap and came back to me. :) That's my boy!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;After we finally got out of there, Eddie called. Ugh. Eddie was sick the day before and on Halloween as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;So he calls me PISSED off because i am not with him and he doesnt feel good and wants 7-up. Okay, i tell him that we will get him his 7-up and come visit. He was not happy, but whatever. We got there and i went downstairs to visit his sick, grumpy ass. Gave him some medicine, which he said he couldn't find. Haha, it was on the bookshelf behind Chester's tank. So Kelly, konnor, caleb and i are getting ready to leave like 20 minutes later, and eddie decides he wants to go to my house. GAH! if this couldn't take any longer&lt;/span&gt;, we have to take caleb home to ben and go back and get eddie. And THEN, after that, we finally get to go to my house. blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half an hour later, my halloween costume is finished, although i STILL hate it. I noticed when i first got to my house that Jenny seemed a bit grumpy. It made me sad and i was afraid that it was not going to be a &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;good night. She took dalton to the store with her to get some candy (like she couldn't go trick-or-treating. lol) and by the time they got back, we were ALL ready to go out. As we walked out the front door, Konnor decides he is taking his stroller with him (he loves to push his little stroller). Well, we weren't about to argue, so Jenny, Kelly, Dalton, Konnor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;, and i headed down the street. Mind you it was about, 830 (i think), not many people had any candy, there were no trick-or-treaters out, and the streets were deserted. So we pretty much hit two houses (which konnor was not going up to the doors-hehe), and just walked around for awhile. Konnor was content with all of this, so it was good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;We got back to my house, and i was ready for a jager bomb. when i asked jenny when she was, she said "im kinda tired now" in&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;a snotty voice. There was more to it, but i dont remember now. She was just being a butt. i woulda killed her had she really wanted to go to bed. I went into my room and told eddie that konnor was coming in to go to bed soon. He was just like whatever, and rolled over. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;After putting konnor down, the drinking began. Jenny and i had a jager bomb while kelly took a shot of Malibu rum. 10 minutes later, we went round two, but this time kelly wanted a bomb as well. She hates jager, but we convinced her she would barely be able&lt;/span&gt; to taste it. Needless to say, she didn't like it much, so went back to drinking the rum. I think eventually, we had her taking two shots for our one bomb, which means she was consuming twice as much alcohol. WOW!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brian came over to spectate our eventful Halloween, but didn't seem to drink, which is probably better, b/cuz jenny and i were NOT sharing our jager. :) Although at some point, he did leave to get alcohol, but by that time i was too trashed to know he left. i do know that there were beer bottles the next morning on my counter, so he did go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, rewind. After a couple ((4 i &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;believe)) rounds of our shot combo, kelly and jenny decided they were STARVING, so they drug me to the store. We walked all the way to plaid pantry so they could get something to eat, which probably a half mile away. They ended up getting some burritos and while they heated them up i read the halloween jokes in the newspaper. Quite entertaining for me. Yes, we went in our cavewomen costumes. I didn't think i was that drunk when we were there, but now that i think of it, things were getting hazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;We also had found a home for sale sign, which we left on our path, hidden, to pick up on our way home. When we did it, we had a brilliant idea to cover the "me" on home, so that the sign read "ho for sale", which jenny so beautifully &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;held for all to see -- including a cop. He drove by with jenny holding that sign high and proud!! She disposed of it moments later, but thankfully the cop didn't care. I picked it up intending to take it home so we could take pictures, but was distracted by the car pulling up to us -- BRIAN!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Now, we were quite upset that he hadn't come to find us before, or even offered us a ride when we left. So he was trying to get us to drive back, but we were like, 4 blocks away. i got in the back, laid down, and put my feet out the window. I think brian might&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; have been trying to hit kelly or jenny, who were both walking, but only in a playful manner. We were at my house before i realized it, and i did NOT wanna get up. Had i been allowed the chance, i would have slept right there. But instead, i played wet noodle and poor Brian had to try to get me up. I got bored fast and went inside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where things &lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;get fuzzy, so bear with me. There were many more rounds of drinking, and jenny kelly and i ended up playing "miss mary mack" "miss susie" and "down by the banks" while brian taped us. All of this happening on the kitchen floor. God i wish i knew how that all came about. Possibly rock, paper, scissors, but i can't be sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Many other things happened, but i don't know in which order. I remember being outside, and walking to the end of my street and sitting&lt;/span&gt; down.&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt; Jenny came and sat next to me and we started telling each other that we loved each other, and that we were best friends, and no one else mattered. Also that we were gonna be friends forever, and that now that jenny has a car, things are going to be different. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I also remember much trampoline fun, and playing duck-duck goose with my sister kelly and jenny on the trampoline. that was much earlier in t&lt;/span&gt;he &lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;night, but i think later on we got back on and jumped. my legs dont hurt as much as they normally do after drunk jumping, so it must not have been the favorite thing to do that night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;James showed up a while later, and he was trashed. I remember him putting the tiara on his head, which i had put on my head a while before. Normally, that would not have been okay. At this point i knew i was at my limit, but Jenny said we had one more jager bomb before the jager was gone. I couldn't pass it up but i sure did want to -- i was very drunk, and so was she. I dont remember seeing much more of kelly, but i have a feeling she was not as trashed as we were. Again, i cant be sure.. haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much later, I went into the bathroom due to the massive spinning in my head ((no idea at what time)), and saw jenny in there. she quickly moved into the tub afraid of throwing up. i sat by the toilet but didn't think i would need to worry about throwing it all up. instead i closed my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;The next morning, i wake up in my bed with no recollection of how i got there, or much of what happenend the night before. I laid in bed for a long time with my eyes closed, while Konnor was trying to wake me up. it was 8 something. ugh, too early i thought. my stomach was a bit queezy, but i paid no attention to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;I threw up twice that day and felt like shit. what did i do?? how did i end up in my own bed?? did jenny and i really drink the whole fifth of jager to ourselves??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;upon talking to kelly later, she told me this: she came in to check on me and jenny, and i got up saying that i was going to bed. She asked jenny if she wanted to go lay down at which jenny said something like "no, if i thr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;ow up in the tub its ok, but alex's mom will kill me if i throw up on the couch." And, believe it or not, that's where she stayed. until the next morning when my mom got up for work and found her there. My tub isn't big either. You cannot lay in it without curling into a ball. And it's cold. wet. dirty. EW....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;All in all, we found&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;that the night was a success. Thank you Jenny and Kelly for being AWESOME drinking buddies. And also to Jenny for being an awesome great best friend, adn you know you are. Thank you Brian who kinda watched over us, but for also being there. And to my gay lover, James, who i think should not have&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;driven from Clackamas to come see us cuz you were TRASHED!!!! :) i love you guys!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-8353166022030780710?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/8353166022030780710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=8353166022030780710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8353166022030780710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8353166022030780710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/11/halloween-thru-my-eyes.html' title='Halloween thru my eyes...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-4431774868812555285</id><published>2007-10-30T13:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T13:52:34.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>all blogged out...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;so much to tell&lt;br /&gt;yet nothing at all&lt;br /&gt;halloween's coming&lt;br /&gt;its going to be a ball&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;gonna take Konnor&lt;br /&gt;out to trick-or-treat&lt;br /&gt;im sure he'll cry&lt;br /&gt;at the ppl 2 meet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;the drinking begins&lt;br /&gt;after he goes to bed&lt;br /&gt;yager bombs for us&lt;br /&gt;but the next day we dread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;much more to blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;after that day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;so much to talk about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;lots to say&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;until then&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;i bid thee farewell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;im so excited&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;its gonna be swell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;**this has to be the cheasiest poem i have ever written.. he he**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-4431774868812555285?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/4431774868812555285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=4431774868812555285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4431774868812555285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4431774868812555285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/all-blogged-out.html' title='all blogged out...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-4748407960044564278</id><published>2007-10-30T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T11:11:43.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween festivities...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;On a lighter note from the last post, Halloween is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;TOMORROW!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Jenny and i are completely stoked!! We are extremely bad about procrastinating, and Halloween is proving to be no different. We are to be cave women, and are making our own costumes.. well well well, wouldn't you believe&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;WE HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;yes, thats correct, we haven't started&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well i guess i cant completely say that. We went to Wal-mart yesterday and got the fabric and other little things we needed. The plan last night was to rush to wal-mart, rush home and get the show on the road. Anyone who knows us would laugh before i even told you that didnt happen. Lets just say when we&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;DID&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;get back to my house, we played sumo wrestlers. god, we are special.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sooooo, tonight, is H-time. We are going to hopefully carve pumpkins and then get to the costumes! We both have pretty clear ideas as to what we want to do, but cant figure out&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;HOW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;we are going to do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;hehe. this is why i love us soooo much. We suck at life, but together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Konnor is going to be a dinosaur, which is why we decided on cave woman. we like to theme it up. i mean why should he get to go prehistoric and not take us with him?? hehe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Then, after all is said and done, tomorrow is going to be&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;AMAZING!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;After taking konnor up and down the street, or around the block, Jenny, Kelly (i think), James (possibly), and i are going to get&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;TRASHED&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; I'm not talking like feelin a little tipsy, but im talking hammered. Jumping on the trampoline in our costumes, taking crazii stupid pictures, causing havoc kind of drunk. We can't be too loud, with the kids going to school the next day, but we are gonna have a wonderful time. Jenny is buying the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="l" onmousedown="return clk(this.href,'','','res','1','')" href="http://www.jagermeister.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Jägermeister&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; which is pretty much our favorite, then i am getting red bull, and yep, you guessed it. . . . jager bombs!!!&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;BOOYAH!!!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; am so stoked, i can't even explain it. We have to get another sort of alcohol for Kelly, cuz she doesn't do jager -- yet. bwahahahaha. Yeah, no it make make her sick, which wouldn't be cool at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I'm sure come thursday, pictures will be up here and on my Myspace. We are slightly excited. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;:) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;proud of being silly.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-4748407960044564278?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/4748407960044564278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=4748407960044564278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4748407960044564278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4748407960044564278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/halloween-festivities.html' title='Halloween festivities...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-4755682068898354490</id><published>2007-10-30T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T13:53:01.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mommy's aren't that tough!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So.... Jenny, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;konnor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and i all ventured out to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-mart last night for fabric for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cave women&lt;/span&gt; costumes (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; what jenny and i are going to be).. We are all tired, its 8 o'clock, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Konnor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is probably a little more than fussy. We can handle it though, we always do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the fabric department we are looking for the right fabric, and accessories, while &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Konnor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is pushing the cart around. This is one of his favorite things to do. Jenny and i get done with the fabric and are ready to head over to the makeup and Halloween isle, so we pick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;konnor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; up and put him in the cart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bad idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He starts crying at the top of his lungs. And you know how kids draw in breath before letting out that horrific scream. Yeah, well the breath went in --- but nothing came out. I looked at him and he is sitting there, like he's trying to scream but like he's holding his breath. Then his lips turn purple. I pick him up and hold him as if he were a little baby. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; saying his name over and over. It seems like an eternity. His lips are getting more purple, not like i thought that was possible. Then his eyes roll in back of his head, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; ready to burst into tears. I shake him a little and continue saying his name. His mouth is still open, mind you. Then he closes his eyes, opens them, and lets out a faint little cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat him up and talked to him, making sure he could hear me and would respond to me. He seemed a little dazed and drowsy, and just clung to me, still crying. This lasted about 5 minutes before he'd let me put him down. Then he just kinda walked next to me, which is weird for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later, he was ripped, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;rearin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and ready to play. So we went to the toy department and played with some toys. We ended the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;wal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-mart trip with tons of fabric, thread, and a balloon for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Konnor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; thinking, and hoping, that this was just a breath-holding spell. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Konnor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; really scared me, a lot, last night. i was very cautious and worried about him the rest of the night. Jenny was freaked out too, and is partially blaming herself, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; it was her that picked him up before he threw the fit. I tried to tell her it wasn't, and i hope she believes that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;As a mother, you think only the worst when something like this happens. Could it have been a seizure, a stroke, something more??? Thousands of questions, and what ifs go through your mind, and races into the night. You get up to check on your child in the middle of the night, and put your ear close to their little face to make sure they are still breathing. i dunno. i was really on edge all night, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; sleep well. i kept dreaming about those horrific moments and they seemed so real!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Konnor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; has a doctor's appointment on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt;, so i am hoping the doctor will be able to give me some answers. I'm sure he's gonna get shots. :( poor guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-4755682068898354490?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/4755682068898354490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=4755682068898354490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4755682068898354490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4755682068898354490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/mommys-arent-that-tough.html' title='mommy&apos;s aren&apos;t that tough!'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1903587546665308952</id><published>2007-10-27T01:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T01:58:47.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>thinking. such a dangerous thing.</title><content type='html'>Let me let you just read about my everyday life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me just open the door to my world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Better yet, my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, this is one thing that i have actually kept up on. I don't ever keep up with things. For example, Konnor's baby book, yeah right. What baby book anyways? HA! I do have most of his firsts in snapshot form, and could compile a book if i got a wild hair up my ass. Nah, i'd rather scrapbook it. About that.... No, that isn't up to date either. I dont keep up on his myspace, or mine for that matter. I don't keep my room or my car clean. I don't keep up on maintenance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why this blog? Why, since the middle of September, have i been challenged to write things down that i never have before? That i have never thought to share with anyone. Maybe its that i feel i can free flow here and not worry about anyone reading it. Well, anyone i know anyways. Maybe in some way this is therapeutic for me, and subconsciously i know that by writing, i am releasing angry, confused, frustrated, or hurtful energy. What if i didn't write? I mean, i don't feel different since i started writing. Perhaps a bit more emotional, or more willing to talk to people about things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not like i just write everything down and then don't talk about things that should be addressed. Because i do. I talk to eddie about what bothers me and granted, that may end up in fights or arguments, i still open up. I try to open up to Jenny what bothers me as well. I mean, friday nights are our nights. I'm not completely upset that she went to hang out with other people. For christ's sake, i'm not her mom. I just know that it's our night, and i wouldn't hang out with just kelly and not her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then i was really looking forward to her watching the football game with me tomorrow. but she says she can't call in b/cuz they just fired 2 people for calling in. i understand that, and i am not calling her a liar, so don't take it that way. But if they are sooooooo short staffed to the point that one of their BIG companies are going to drop contract with them, why are they firing people who are hard workers?? i mean jenny works all the time, takes overtime when she can, and is a great asset there. Why would they fire her for calling in on a day when we both kinda need it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. If companies were truly wanting to make their turnover rate go down, they would make their employees more happy. I know for a fact that part of a manager/supervisor's bonus is based on the turnover rate. Well, if your turnover rate sucks, so does the bonus. So, you would think, that firing people and making them unhappy would be something you would AVOID!! Perhaps i don't know the situation of the 2 who were fired, but it seems ridiculous to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jenny i know you are reading this, and im sorry&lt;/strong&gt;. its 2am and i can't sleep so i am just letting my mind tell my fingers which buttons to press to get this all out. Then, hopefully, sleep will overcome my will to type, and i will fall happily to sleep. After all, a full mind leads to dreams that are not so pleasant. And quite frankly, i like happy dreams. Or no dreams at all. *que corny line* although, "a dream is a wish your heart makes when you're fast asleep*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later. Sleepiness is starting to make me drool. And i want to be asleep before eddie gets home from "poker". i think he's partying. ugh. that's something totally off subject&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-1903587546665308952?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1903587546665308952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1903587546665308952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1903587546665308952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1903587546665308952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/thinking-such-dangerous-thing_27.html' title='thinking. such a dangerous thing.'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-102693737631336096</id><published>2007-10-26T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T20:34:25.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i want...</title><content type='html'>i want the world, can you give it to me?&lt;br /&gt;i want the moon, can you reach it?&lt;br /&gt;i want heaven here, can you make it?&lt;br /&gt;i want simplicity, do you know what that is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;screw the drama&lt;br /&gt;screw the boys&lt;br /&gt;screw the bullshit&lt;br /&gt;screw everyday life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lets just runaway&lt;br /&gt;come on, take my hand&lt;br /&gt;we can just be gone&lt;br /&gt;i promise it'll be okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want a day for myself&lt;br /&gt;if not a day, maybe an hour&lt;br /&gt;if not an hour, just a minute&lt;br /&gt;if not a minute, how about a moment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want people to understand me&lt;br /&gt;to like me for me&lt;br /&gt;to not judge me&lt;br /&gt;to trust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-102693737631336096?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/102693737631336096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=102693737631336096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/102693737631336096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/102693737631336096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-want.html' title='i want...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1069354960714639586</id><published>2007-10-25T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T14:19:24.829-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><title type='text'>aspiring photographer.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;As a photographer, you learn many tricks along your journey to become great! What is a photograph? How does that differ from a picture? How do you get better? What makes up a great photograph? What are the rules of thirds? Should you develop your own film? What setting should you use? Is digital better than manual?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many questions, with no more than a small bit of time to research. If you take pictures, you are not a photographer. Perhaps you are more like the paparazzi, snapping pics left and right. If you are a photographer, you surely cannot be a picture-taker, for you take much care with every open/close of the shutter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, myself, am the paparazzi. In recent months, i have regrouped with my old Pentax in hopes of becoming both the paparazzi and a photographer. There are only so many "photograph"s that one can get out of a paparazzi session. But, although rare, they do appear. Which is why i have been inspired and given myself the challenge for more photographs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Peter Iredale near Gearhart, Oregon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://a512.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/32/l_9a9f2e80854e2e323b9f4374a3760e1f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a512.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/32/l_9a9f2e80854e2e323b9f4374a3760e1f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Oregon beach&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://a288.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/17/l_a4e0f8c9105970183510acb94d3f06af.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a288.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/17/l_a4e0f8c9105970183510acb94d3f06af.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Konnor playing in the water(part of the ship wreck)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://a11.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/94/l_3d6c8bd2e7f7636c9393d7fa27fee00a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a11.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/94/l_3d6c8bd2e7f7636c9393d7fa27fee00a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Konnor and Eddie watching each other&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://a652.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/116/l_50c52919663c6ed6db6fa7129b04bc03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a652.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/116/l_50c52919663c6ed6db6fa7129b04bc03.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Konnor @ the beach&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://a814.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/52/l_fd91fa4d0ce83946374332159fe030dd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a814.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/52/l_fd91fa4d0ce83946374332159fe030dd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Oregon sunset. pic taken outside my house&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://a486.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/38/l_be3da28bcca2d2fbc6042fcddaf6155d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a486.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/38/l_be3da28bcca2d2fbc6042fcddaf6155d.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Although all of these pictures are very special to me, the picture of konnor at the beach is nearest to my heart. What mother wouldn't choose their most precious&lt;br /&gt;possession to be their child.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fist 3 pictures shown were all taken with my pentax K1000 while spending a day at the beach earlier this summer. The first picture portrays a shipwreck, and the love for it&lt;br /&gt;comes from the angle of which i took it and the amazing colors of rust contrasted&lt;br /&gt;by the bright blue skies beyond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture number 2 captures my eye b/cuz of the distorted mirror imaging and the fading of the corners w/o me having to do anything but snap the picture. It would be nice if there were no people in the background. i suppose i could be witty and say that it was me and someone else, but nah... no need 4 that. just need a little photoshop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;The angle and pure innocence in picture 3 is miraculous. if you look closely into where konnor's hand is, you see that it's water he's playing in. this is actually part of the shipwreck &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;from picture #1. The ripples in the water add a nice offset effect, and the angle offset angle of the background makes konnor more center of attention. This would have been a much nicer picture had my shadow not been in the way. Again, in need of photoshop to remove the man in the background.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;The fourth picture you see is Konnor and Eddie looking at each other. This picture was taken with my older pentax k1000 with a non-working light meter. Despite this malfunction, i managed a good photograph of my two boys. The lighting is absolutely enticing in this picture. It helps to draw you right to the focal point even though they are not centered in the photograph.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;My favorite, Konnor at the beach. Taken with a Kodak easyshare digital camera, I entitled this one "children will reinvent your world for you." Mirror imaging is a huge factor in this photograph, as that is what its about. Theres Konnor, smack dab in the middle, but you can see his reflection on the wet sand. There is the sky and clouds, both with reflections. Directly in front, you see the ocean waves rolling and crashing. It's not like i need to give you much more of clarification as to why this picture is titled what it is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Last, but certainly not least, is the sunset. Taken from the front door of my house, i captured this image with an old Nokia cell phone camera. Pretty amazing, right? I don't have much more to say about this one. The lower clouds absorbed the brilliant lighting much more and made a "cloud" effect. The trees in front of me are silhouetted to make a great foundation for this picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-1069354960714639586?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1069354960714639586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1069354960714639586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1069354960714639586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1069354960714639586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/aspiring-photographer.html' title='aspiring photographer.'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7173961727544871953</id><published>2007-10-24T21:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T09:10:51.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Animals. . . A secret keeper</title><content type='html'>Isn't it astounding how an animal can be one's best friend? They will keep any secret, tells no lies, and never be too tired of hearing you talk. They take it all in and never let it out. They are compassionate and sense when you are upset. If you cry, they will be right by your side. With them, you are never alone. In a rough patch of life they will help you through, and mysteriously they know when you don't need them anymore, and they pass on. It may be childhood, the loss of a child, or divorce. Whatever the case may be, they are there. Every moment of every day for &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt;, the ones they are loyal to and love. With every bit of them, they trust you. You should deserve such loyalty. Talk to them, love them, and treat them with the dignity and respect they deserve. After all, you never know when your secret keeper with leave you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-7173961727544871953?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7173961727544871953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7173961727544871953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7173961727544871953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7173961727544871953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/animals-secret-keeper.html' title='Animals. . . A secret keeper'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-3945809703053526650</id><published>2007-10-24T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T09:05:53.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hahahaha!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;so my post yesterday that pretty much consisted &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;of angry rants about not having a charger for my&lt;br /&gt;camcorder pretty much rocked my socks..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;you see, last night, i got so fed up with not having&lt;br /&gt;it that i actually MADE eddie help me look in his&lt;br /&gt;room for it. Now i know for a fact it was in there&lt;br /&gt;cuz that was the last place it was seen. We searched&lt;br /&gt;high and low EVERYWHERE for that thing for&lt;br /&gt;almost 1/2 an hour. I was about ready to give up,&lt;br /&gt;but saw Eddie looking in the storage under the fish&lt;br /&gt;tank. I helped him look, and, low and behold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;THERE IT WAS!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Staring me right in the face. How could&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;i not have seen it before?! i have looked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;in the same bag probably 5 or 6 times,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;not ONCE seen it at all! I was sooooooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;excited, i kissed it! you see i need my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;camcorder for Konnor moments and, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;for the mountain.. to capture all those &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;tree hitting experiences and wipe outs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;So. pretty much all i wanted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;to convey to all you lovely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;people that i found my beloved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;charger and i soon will be enjoying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;life with my camcorder.&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/4448196122553507262-3945809703053526650?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/3945809703053526650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=3945809703053526650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3945809703053526650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3945809703053526650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/hahahaha.html' title='hahahaha!'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7082800279711663493</id><published>2007-10-23T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T11:36:18.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>$@(&amp;^%# CRAP!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I WANT A &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;/span&gt; ***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CHARGER&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;*** &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FOR MY FREAKING &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CAMCORDER!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;I BOUGHT THIS THING FOR A GOOD CHUNK OF MONEY, AND NOW I CAN'T USE IT BECAUSE MY ORIGINAL CHARGER IS LOST!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;"&gt;:(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;AND, you cant charge it via the computer cuz it isn't capable of it.. ugh!!! I can find a charger online if i wanna pay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;SIXTY DOLLARS!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;EFFFFFFFFFFFFF THAT!!!! STUPID EBAY!!!&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/4448196122553507262-7082800279711663493?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7082800279711663493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7082800279711663493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7082800279711663493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7082800279711663493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/crap.html' title='$@(&amp;^%# CRAP!!!'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-3852525443855588430</id><published>2007-10-22T09:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T08:47:21.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a weekend of unfortunate events</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxzquxRMDbI/AAAAAAAAAB8/N6BEU2ngcn8/s1600-h/mt+hood.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;**FRIDAY**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't think I'm going to make it today. i don't feel good"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what i heard first thing i heard when gram walked in the front door Friday morning to watch konnor. Okay, i thought, as i walked out the door, she always has something wrong, so this will be no big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halfway to work, i realized i forgot my phone, and knew this would turn into more than a no big deal sort of thing. thank goodness konnor was asleep when i left. I walked into work, and texted the home phone, which i know will-eye or cydney *my bro and sis* would answer, and told them to let gram know i did not have my phone and to call mom if she needed anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went through the first few hours of the day almost as normal. In the back of my head, i worried what was going on for one reason. she said she was having chest pain. About 11:30 my mom comes racing over to me, telling me to leave, that i have to go now, go get konnor. **BAM** the panic kicked in and i was off! i made it home in 30 minutes (good for me) and was half expecting to see an ambulance sitting at my house getting ready to transport Gram to the hospital. a small sigh of relief escaped my lips when i saw there wasnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i got inside, gram was sitting on the overstuffed chair, wrapped in a blanket and looked rather pale. Konnor was dumping his toys out of his basket all over the floor, but seemed a little more excited to see me than normal. :) Which made me very happy. We sat around for a half hour or so before gram got up and got dressed and announced we needed to go to the ER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 20 minutes later, we arrived at the Portland Adventist E.R. Now let me tell you something, they were doing construction, and it was the BIGGEST bunch of bull s**t ever!!!! There is a narrow path up to the ER and then there was this "free valet parking" (no tips accepted). Well even if there were, i wouldn't have given them any. THEY WERE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND!! so gram just went in and konnor and i went to find a parking spot in the front of the building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we parked the car and went back to the ER, Gram was already back in the exam room. So konnor and i went for a little car ride, he fell asleep, and i got a bite to eat. Then, we went back to the parking lot of the hospital and slept in the car for nearly two hours. I kept getting woke up by phone calls, and text messages making sure everything was okay. thank you everyone who was concerned and checking up on us! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Konnor woke up, and we went to check on gram (it had been almost 3 hours at this point). We went up to the desk at the ER and let them know who we were looking for. They checked it was okay for visitors, and we went back. She looked very tired and frail, and the sight of Konnor almost made her cry. He was terrified cuz she had oxygen and IV's. The cardiologist was in there and let us know she would stay overnight and need possible surgery in the near future. After about 10 minutes, we left because Konnor was halfway freaking out over the hospital room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;**SATURDAY**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing as how Friday was not a good eventful day, we had hoped that Saturday would be better. Eddie's brother and his girlfriend are due to have a baby the first week of December. So this weekend was her baby shower. They are expecting a girl, so i was THRILLED to shop for pink and purple cute stuff. (hehe, i will love to have a little girl someday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Konnor was asleep when I left for the store to pick up the bag and card and other little tidbits i needed for the perfect present. As i was leaving, i texted Eddie to get konnor up and give him a sandwich and to change his clothes. Should have been easy enough. Well i got home and found a different sort of situation in the making. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, Konnor was getting changed. But mom was just getting out of the shower and Darlisa was over. No biggie. I start wrapping the presents with baby receiving blankets (ingenious, thank you mom). All of a sudden i hear my mom and eddie talking and she yells "no that does NOT fu**ing work for me." oh god, its all hitting the fan now. Eddie looks at me (and mind you, its 1:50 pm) and says we have to start cleaning the house. why, you ask? well, due to the recent events that transpired on friday, my uncle is coming down from Seattle. ugh. what more could we ask for. so EDDIE and I (me) cleaned the living room, kitchen, hallway, dining room, before we could go anywhere. and lets just say that my mom dried and flat ironed her hair before cleaning the bathroom. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so livid, that i was throwing things around, pissed because this couldn't have waited two hours, after the baby shower was over. i texted Aaron (baby's daddy) at quarter after two and apologized for our tardiness. Eddie, thank goodness for him :), did all of the living room pretty much, while i washed dishes. It was a valiant effort, and we were out the door by like 2:30 p.m. Let me just say i cried after we left because i was so freaking frustrated!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Just as a side note, and i apologize to jenny for putting this in here, but it made my day worse.. at about 11:30 am sat morning jenny broke off our plans to drink that night because a semi-mutual friend, heather, made an idiotic decision and was depressed about it. so among everything else, i wasn't getting drunk Saturday night like i wanted, and probably need. haha)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we got to the baby shower, and Konnor was immediately the CENTER of attention. Everyone wanted to see him, hold him, look at his cute little white spot. Dear god, people FLOCK to that child. Love him dearly, but i get embarrassed, cuz it wasn't his day. It was Tiffany's day. And her brother was taking pix of my son instead of pix of her opening gifts! my gosh. i thank god that everyone loves that kid so much. lol. otherwise, i probably would have never been invited to another family gathering. hehe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after the baby shower, we went back to hang out with Tiffany and the fam. No big deal. We are talking, laughing, checking out her loot. Konnor, is of course, being a little shy like always. He is playing with his PINK balloon -that, i have to add, he took into wal-mart with him earlier- and Jason, Tiffany's brother, is teasing him. No biggie. ha. except there are a group of three other balloons attached to this GIANT baby foot balloon. So he pulls that down next to Konnor, and i kid you not, Konnor got the most terrified look on his face before he started BAWLING! aha. he was seriously so terrified of this thing, that he would watch it for like 5 minutes at a time before going off to play. it was cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little while later, i realized that konnor had run off somewhere. no biggie though, cuz there isn't alot for him to get into. i figured he was bugging Jason again and Jason would tell me if Konnor was getting to be too much. Well, a couple minutes later, Konnor walks into the living room with stuff all over his brand new shirt and on his hand. Damn it, he found some chocolate, is what i thought. But, being a mom, i knew better than to guess, and i grabbed his hand and smelt it. Stupid idea. Seeing as it was CAT POOP!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, Konnor had found his way to the litter box, and decided that he might try it out. Luckily the damage was confined to only his shirt and hand that was easily washed off. He was pretty proud of himself, and i pretty much threw up in my mouth. After that, we sealed the door to the litter box so that he could no longer reach the kitty rocha. I am so thankful he didn't think it was food because i would have definitely thrown up!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;**SUNDAY**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday started with Eddie leaving for a frisbee golf tournament. I vaguely remember him telling me he loved me and leaving. I was like the living dead - so tired from the night before. Thankfully, so was Konnor, and neither of us woke up until almost 9am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got up, got dressed, and left the house. I had told Kelly the day before that she was all mine and she agreed, but come 10am, when Konnor and i were ready for the day, Kelly was still asleep (big shocker-NOT!!) So Konnor and i went to Shari's for some breakfast so he wouldn't start throwing a fit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must first say that i love my son dearly. He loves to eat with utensils, just ask anyone who has gone out to breakfast, lunch, or dinner with us. Once the silverware hits the table and we are seated, he has them. You must be very quick or they will be his and you will eat with your fingers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well Sunday morning, Konnor decided HE wanted to eat with his fingers. No biggie though. They delivered the breakfast platter to us, which consisted of pancakes, eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, and sausage. WAY TOO MUCH FOOD i hafta tell you. But i can never tell how much my kid will eat. haha. So we are eating, and he is on my lap (b/cuz thats where the food is) and all of a sudden i see a HUGE dunk of a piece of pancake into the syrup and him yanking it out, syrup dripping everywhere! Its headed for his mouth, and i have NOTHING to catch the extra syrup that is inching towards the two of us. What is a mother to do??? Why, use her hand, of course. YUCK!! i had probably a tablespoon of syrup in my hand, while Konnor is happily munching away on the pancake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if you know me, you know that instead of soda, i drink water at almost all meals when at a restaurant. Not Sunday morning. Nope, i decided with soda. So here i am, with a ton of syrup and only a napkin to wipe it off. Yeah, so let's think about what would happen if i wiped syrup off myself w/ a napkin. Yeah, napkin on my hand. Even more disgusting. Thankfully the waiter (who got a better tip for this) came up and asked if everything was okay. I said yes, and asked for a glass of water. He was back in a flash and i submerged my hand into the cold, icy water while the couple across the way watched. I'm sure they were highly amused because Konnor continued to eat happily as i cleaned up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think that is the worst, you are wrong. I finally did get ahold of Kelly and we went to wal-mart (yeah i know i was there saturday, but im obsessed). So kelly and i are at wal-mart shopping for nothing we need and everything we want, and start to smell something foul. I sniffed her son, Caleb's butt, and it wasn't him. I didn't need to whiff my son to know that the odor was coming from him. He started grunting, and i knew he wasn't done. We just giggled, knew we had about 10 minutes before Konnor started getting grumpy, and finished shopping. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden, and it happened so fast, Kelly said eww, i walked over, konnor started crying, and i threw up in my mouth. Konnor had poop coming up out of the top of his diaper, onto his back. He had poop on the cart, which was the worse. Thankfully Caleb had a blanket, which i wrapped around konnor, and we took off like a bat out of hell through the aisles and outside to the car. I was carrying him football style, and he was crying. People must have thought that i was kidnapping him from his own mother. I thought in my head, i dare someone to stop me. They'll be sorry. haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fun-filled weekend for Alex. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;WEEEE HAAA!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&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/4448196122553507262-3852525443855588430?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/3852525443855588430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=3852525443855588430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3852525443855588430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3852525443855588430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/weekend-of-unfortunate-events.html' title='a weekend of unfortunate events'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1000597134447571184</id><published>2007-10-17T12:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T17:05:51.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the snow is coming...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxZrqRRMDZI/AAAAAAAAABs/TLgpwLsvuDE/s1600-h/YEAH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122400000114691474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxZrqRRMDZI/AAAAAAAAABs/TLgpwLsvuDE/s200/YEAH.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxZljxRMDUI/AAAAAAAAABE/qj-M_CREXaw/s1600-h/KOOL.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122393291375775042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxZljxRMDUI/AAAAAAAAABE/qj-M_CREXaw/s200/KOOL.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxZrmBRMDYI/AAAAAAAAABk/iPlH0tdRmSc/s1600-h/WOWZERS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122399927100247426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxZrmBRMDYI/AAAAAAAAABk/iPlH0tdRmSc/s200/WOWZERS.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxZlzxRMDXI/AAAAAAAAABc/VD4i2fC2_9w/s1600-h/WOWZERS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122393566253682034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxZlzxRMDXI/AAAAAAAAABc/VD4i2fC2_9w/s200/WOWZERS.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122393351505317202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxZlnRRMDVI/AAAAAAAAABM/RgCqjLiRxvI/s200/PERTTY.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;these are pics today of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;ski bowl on mount hood!! i cannot express to you just how happy this makes me.. :) i want to jump out of my skin right now and run up the mountain and just lay in it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#99ffff;"&gt;along those lines, jenny and i were talking about how wonderful it is here in oregon. i mean, we have the beach an hour and a half to the west, and we have the mountain an hour and a half to the .. . .. . .. well, 1.5 hrs away anyways.. hehe.. not to mention we have a river to play in when we can't get away to the beach and we have cold wet winters to bundle up in to remind us that we are not far from snow..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;we don't get snow here on the valley floor very often, so we enjoy the mountain more than anyone knows.. we try to get up there just about every other weekend, and dont care if we are deprived of sleep if it means sledding down a hill, hitting a tree, and nearly breaking our backs&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#99ffff;"&gt;haha, that ones a loooong story&lt;/span&gt;). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;theres just something about the mountain that makes us all warm and fuzzy inside..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;so just give me a tank of gas, a pomegranate rockstar, a scarf, some gloves, snow pants, and a sled, and up to the mountain i go. Taking my mind off life, work, and what makes me unhappy. The fresh mountain air and the thrill of riding on a small disc down a big hill can make a girl forget about everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-1000597134447571184?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1000597134447571184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1000597134447571184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1000597134447571184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1000597134447571184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/snow-is-coming.html' title='the snow is coming...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/RxZrqRRMDZI/AAAAAAAAABs/TLgpwLsvuDE/s72-c/YEAH.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-4031282003082765953</id><published>2007-10-16T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T15:30:07.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what did i do to deserve this?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;I HATE WORK!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Seriously, do i deserve to be treated like the scum of the universe? is it really my fault that these &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;IDIOTS &lt;/span&gt;dont pay their bills, get disconnected, and get charged a deposit?? &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;I DONT THINK SO&lt;/span&gt;!!  And do you really think you can call us and yell at us because you dont know how to read a freaking bill???? ahahaha. honestly. i would &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;MUCH&lt;/span&gt; rather be at home raising my son then dealing with these fucking ass holes!! im so angry right now i am shaking.  if it isnt one thing its a freaking nother!!! seriously, take a class on how &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;NOT&lt;/span&gt; to be an idiot and then call us!!!! ugh, alex can not deal with this.. i wanted to hang up on this bitch&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt; sooooooo&lt;/span&gt; bad but couldn't because we have "morals" at my work.. pfft.. she got away with it. if only i could call her back when i leave. oh yeah, i'd tell her what an &lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;IDIOT &lt;/span&gt;she is. bwahahahaha. sweet revenge. just grin, and bear it though, right? i mean i only have 38 minutes left before i can be happy and start my daily routine of after work decontamination. it will go as follows:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;shut down my computer (my heart starts to race)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;walk out to my car and supress the urge to scream&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;get in my car, shut the door, and scream "YES!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;take a deep cleansing breath&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feel my whole body relax&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;drive home (generally back roads to keep the stress to a minimum)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;on the way home, listen to music and sing a little too loudly&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pull up to the house and take another cleansing breath&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;walk in, and see my son...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;then, its all over. work is something i no longer think about.  seeing that smiling face running up to me, wanting to play is more than anything i could &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;EVER&lt;/span&gt; ask for. if it weren't for him, i'd still work at Taco Bell (less money but more fun) but i'd not be so happy to see someone. I wouldn't change a damn thing, thats for sure!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;"&gt;ahhhhhh... i feel much better and can get back to work now.. thank you for this mini retreat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-4031282003082765953?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/4031282003082765953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=4031282003082765953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4031282003082765953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4031282003082765953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-did-i-do-to-deserve-this.html' title='what did i do to deserve this?'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-8368359148675838811</id><published>2007-10-16T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T15:57:07.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>an aquaintance then.. a best friend now..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;a walk in this world&lt;br /&gt;and you will know&lt;br /&gt;all the troubles of life&lt;br /&gt;that one can bestow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if only for a moment,&lt;br /&gt;what can take us away?&lt;br /&gt;a special place, a thing&lt;br /&gt;or a person to say it'll be okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a person, of course&lt;br /&gt;a best friend in fact&lt;br /&gt;cuz when you have that bond&lt;br /&gt;its like you make a contract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you wipe away the tears&lt;br /&gt;you laugh away the pain&lt;br /&gt;you get happy when your mad&lt;br /&gt;and you take a walk in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course it isnt perfect&lt;br /&gt;thats not how its designed.&lt;br /&gt;flaws bring us together more&lt;br /&gt;than perfection could ever find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we drink more than we should&lt;br /&gt;and talk much too loud&lt;br /&gt;we know that we are crazy&lt;br /&gt;thats why we're proud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;proud to be friends&lt;br /&gt;proud to be "whores"&lt;br /&gt;proud to make fools of ourselves&lt;br /&gt;in the wal-mart stores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;........ yeah, im stuck now..... more on this later.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-8368359148675838811?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/8368359148675838811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=8368359148675838811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8368359148675838811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8368359148675838811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/aquaintance-then-best-friend-now.html' title='an aquaintance then.. a best friend now..'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7593071427139709025</id><published>2007-10-15T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T14:27:23.385-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the weekend of interesting events</title><content type='html'>Friday evening i left at 6 *(ugh)* and picked jenny up from her house. We knew we had 3 bottles 1/2 full of alcohol, but were not impressed as to what was on our drinking list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;grape vodka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;regular vodka&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;peach schnapps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, mind you, vodka does NOT settle well with me, and the peach schnapps is wayyyyy way way sweet. So lets keep this in mind as i tell you the tale of our evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to my house, and thankfully, gram left soon after. Konnor and i played and laughed and loved life for an hour or so before eddie got home, with 4 of his friends. "baby i wanna go play poker. lend me $20?" ugh, whatever. we found out he got a job that he starts today so he'll pay me back soon anyways. well, thank goodness we hadn't started drinking yet, so we "raced" him to the store to get money. me, jenny, and konnor lost ONLY because this idiot couldn't drive. ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, i call kelly who had been texting me asking if we were drinking. At first i didn't know if we were going to do it with what alcohol we had. So when jenny and i decided we called her. 1/2 hour later we picked her up at her house and went back to mine. Konnor was pretty much asleep at this time, so i just laid him down and got no fussing what-so-ever. just sleep. :) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;YAY!! LETS GET DRUNK!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a913.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/7/l_885484103398b8a3c636e7f0095c3940.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is the 3 of us prior to consuming any &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;alcoholic beverages&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;When we realized (a couple shots later) that we were going to run out of alcohol, we frantically started calling Eddie. We needed him to drive Jenny to the store for beer or wine coolers or SOMETHING! He wasn't having it. even though he was done with poker. UGH. WHATEVER!! so we jumped on the trampoline for a while, and felt like fools.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://a941.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/82/l_276eb6840e0a70d1389931db3e48ad24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://a941.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/82/l_276eb6840e0a70d1389931db3e48ad24.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://a140.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/25/l_efab0af9d1d0000f9c57fb592041a923.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://a140.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/25/l_efab0af9d1d0000f9c57fb592041a923.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Then we went back inside to unfortunately, finish what alcohol we had left. Then we got onto the subject of Jenny's ex, Billy. The one that Kelly slept with ,and told me about. And i told Jenny and well let's just say i was terrified they were gonna brawl in my kitchen. haha. but they were totally cool about it, and bashed him for quite some time. it was very relieving and i think healing for the two of them, seeing as they used to be quite close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The pic on the left is Kelly pushing me down as we are jumping. haha. The one on the right is me and Jenny posing for the camera. Too bad i kinda cut Jenny's face off. &lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;SORRY DOLL FACE!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt; I really didn't mean to. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So after the alcohol was gone &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;(yes gone. which never happens)&lt;/span&gt; we decided to take crazy pictures. and this is what we came up with..........&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://a271.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/24/l_121a13cd12d5f5cb032bb11a2e0f0c86.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://a271.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/24/l_121a13cd12d5f5cb032bb11a2e0f0c86.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;our tounges ALMOST touched! &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://a719.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/58/l_e9a93df230ea854df87cfc6e005667fe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;^&lt;/span&gt;me and jenny super hotties!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;so i am not even sure what to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;caption this one. we all look&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;like freaks except kelly who looks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;like she's havin a baby &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="224" alt="" src="http://a712.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/124/l_fb89174d49e8dd96074974f70b5e6947.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://a547.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/77/l_69256a7842e2216b28eb4c65b7cfb402.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://a547.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/77/l_69256a7842e2216b28eb4c65b7cfb402.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;--eww her finger was up my freaking nose!!! hahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://a82.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/52/l_f645e68cb319add68c9ff014332f81d9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 173px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" height="168" alt="" src="http://a82.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/52/l_f645e68cb319add68c9ff014332f81d9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Jenny totally looks like a freak and i look&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;like i was being forced -----------&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all was said and done, and we got bored/tired and degraded from tipsy-drunk to buzzed, we went back into the house, and flipped on Halo2. yea thats about when Kelly passed out and Jenny and I played for a couple hours. Come 3 a.m. eddie got home with his friend Zach, we played a little longer, and went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, the night was good. we didnt get nearly as trashed as we had hoped, but we had a good therapy session and have almost solid plans as to what we're going to be for Halloween. We have also decided that Halloween we are going to get SUPER trashed and that one day we may be able to become the "fearsome threesome". Wow i think i have mixed feelings about that. It sure would be awesome but i don't know if i wanna share my Jenny. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;:(&lt;/span&gt; it's hard enough drinking with other people. im possessive in a way i guess. but she's&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt; **&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;MY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;**&lt;/span&gt; best friend. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt; i hope if she's reading this, she knows that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yea, and just in case you didn't hear,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;OREGON DUCKS:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;53&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;WASHINGTON:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#990000;"&gt;7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;it's a darn shame for Washington State.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;They just knocked the ducks to the no. 7 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;rank in the college AP 25. that's the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;highest they have been since 2005,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;when they were in the no. 6 spot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;BOOYAH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-7593071427139709025?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7593071427139709025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7593071427139709025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7593071427139709025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7593071427139709025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/weekend-of-interesting-events.html' title='the weekend of interesting events'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-344841107163352862</id><published>2007-10-12T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T15:28:35.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hopes 4 tonite</title><content type='html'>Alright, since i have come up with the game plan to get rid of my car in order to be able to spend more time with Konnor, i have been a little more at peace w/ work. and by a little i mean maybe 5% more. This week was customer service appreciation week, so they spoiled us with food and drink all week, so that was nice. But still I am stuck here until 6pm and grumpy about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Last night when i got home, Konnor was soooo cute! The last couple of days he has this new thing. I think it's probably because he can sense i have been so upset the last few days. Anyways, he came up to me, let me pick him up and hug him. As i went to put him down, he just clung onto my neck, like he didn't wanna let go. That in itself is bizarre cuz he doesn't really like mommy lovin's much. So i sat on the couch and he held those little arms around my neck just hugging me! then he took one of his hands and patted my back, as if he were telling me "mommy, its okay" :) it made me feel sooooooooo good! Little guy is so sweet. I honestly can say that i dont know what i would do without him. I almost didn't keep him but thats another story. :) I also tell him now that i love him to infinity and beyond. he likes toy story and kelly and i dedicated the song "you've got a friend in me" to him and his best friend (her son) Caleb. they are cute. this is them camping. konnor was concerned about caleb cuz he was fussing :)&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/IMG013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;back to the purpose of my blog. as you are well aware, today is &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;FRIDAY!!!&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;well Jenny and i wanna drink. i hope we can. kelly wants to as well. the funny thing is that i have about 4 half-empty bottles of liquor. yeah, we have grape vodka, reg. vodka, some peach schnapps, and i think my mom has gray goose vodka. yikes!!! and i dont even like vodka!! haha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Jenny and i always do theme night when we drink. and it turns out if we try to PLAN the theme, it never works. buttttt..... if there is no planning involved, it always happens. i think i wnana put my hair in pig tails and then braid them. haha. it can be young-looking drinking nite. fun!! It isn't suppose to rain tonight, so drunken trampoline is on the list of fun (like it always is). Also, we are going to try some drunken Halo2.  I already look drunk playing it, so that will be very interesting. haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;one other thing before i leave you for the weekend...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/Photo-0774.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;GO&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;DUCKS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They are playing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;Washington State&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;this weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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/4448196122553507262-344841107163352862?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/344841107163352862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=344841107163352862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/344841107163352862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/344841107163352862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/hopes-4-tonite.html' title='hopes 4 tonite'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7479301116160633335</id><published>2007-10-11T18:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T18:33:33.798-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mobile blogging</title><content type='html'>Hey all just got my mobile blog capabilities up and going. Now i can blog from anywhere! Ha ha what a loser. But i can send pics to my blog. Its super cool! I'm tired this evening, just waiting for eddie to get home so we can go to bed. Wow what am i saying, its only six oclock! He he. On another note, my grandma is being a fat bitch. Wow thats no news. She just said she's going to bed. Meaning she's leaving. Yay! Some peace. Meanwhile konnor is shoveling food in his mouth at the table. :) he eats when he wants. Oops he just dropped a piece of food on the floor so she has to clean it up. God just LEAVE already. Gotta go play moderator. Good night to all my non existent readers. (if you are there, let me know) :) sweet dreams. And the pic is old school but just too cute. :) &lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/Rw7MaxRMDSI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fsDLTI6mBy4/s1600-h/Photo-0009-770783.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120254586640928034" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/Rw7MaxRMDSI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fsDLTI6mBy4/s320/Photo-0009-770783.jpg" border="0" /&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/4448196122553507262-7479301116160633335?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7479301116160633335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7479301116160633335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7479301116160633335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7479301116160633335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/hey-all-just-got-my-mobile-blog.html' title='mobile blogging'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/Rw7MaxRMDSI/AAAAAAAAAAw/fsDLTI6mBy4/s72-c/Photo-0009-770783.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-673675767761512527</id><published>2007-10-10T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T09:53:20.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>for the one i lost....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;R.I.P.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rebecca Paine&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;May 14, 1987-June 28, 1997&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;b/cuz you were taken from us much too young&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;     oh man i remember our friendship like it was yesterday. we were great friends. the best of friends for a long time. we met in girl scouts. we were both "brownies". haha. i think that the older girl scouts must have made fun of us. But God knew what he was doing when he brought us to the same troop. I was terrified that first day, and i could tell that you were too. when i walked into Tammy's house for our first meeting, i saw you sitting on the couch. i immediately went and sat next to you. Yep, thats where it all started.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;     Ask if I remember when i found out you had Cystic Fibrosis, and i will tell you no. I remember seeing you get treatments on the nebulizer, and i remember when you had to have oxygen masks from time to time. And i remember that i was scared for you, especially when you got your feeding tube in. But i dont remember the first time i was told you were sick. We were too busy having fun for me to remember that minor detail. All i remember is how strong you were and how we always knew you'd beat it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;     My biggest regret was my 10th birthday. The last one that you would ever go to. You sat on my couch most of the time while me and my other friends had fun in my bedroom. I neglected you, and to this day i feel horrible. Had i known you wouldn't be with us much longer, things would have been different.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;     when my mom told me you were in the hospital and not going to be with us much longer, i was devastated. you were my absolute best friend in the whole world. i broke down immediately and cried for the longest time on our couch, on my mom's lap. she tried to comfort me but nothing she could say or do helped. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;     we went to see you the next day. there was suppose to be a girl scout event but due to your fragile condition we cancelled it. when i got there your family was there. your dad was laying on the hospital bed with you, while your mom sat close by. i know that your grandma was there, among others. everyone was upset and i didnt know what to do. your mom called to me to come by you and i did. i was terrified. she explained that you were unable to recognize anyone. looking at you i started to cry. you looked at me and said my name. everyone was amazed. an hour later, i said my goodbyes to you, knowing that id never see you again. i had come to terms with it and was prepared for the worst, but the last thing i wanted was to leave your side. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;     i cried more that night, but when my mom told me the next evening that you had received your angel wings, not a single tear fell from my eyes. i asked god why he took you from me so young. i didnt see why he needed you in heaven when we all needed you here on earth. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;     in the days following your passing, i got really sick. looking back on it, i suppose it was more from grief than any bug going around. the girl scouts were to carry your casket from the viewing room to the main room, and we had to rehearse at your house one evening. i remember feeling terribly nauseous as my mom drove me to your house, and as i walked up the stairs to your living room, i threw up all over myself and the floor. thankfully your dad cleaned it up. everything in that house reminded me of you. i was so upset but when my mom asked if i wanted to go home i told her no and that i needed to stay. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;      come the day of your funeral, i was feeling better but i missed you so much. it was an open casket, which i wasn't expecting, and peering into it, looking at my best friend, lying there so peacefully, i lost it for the first time since i left the hospital. i remember the scent of your fragile body and can still smell it to this day. when i do i am convinced that you are standing by my side. when the 8 small girls carried your casket into the main room, everyone was in awe. if i remember correctly, holli and i were in the front, but i cant be sure. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;     due to your passing, your mom couldn't handle being w/ the girl scouts anymore. as a troop, we came to a decision to "Break up" (for lack of better term) after dedicating a patch, the forget-me-not flower, in your honor, on our vests (we were cadets then). it was then that the troop fell apart, we lost contact, and went our separate ways.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;     a little while later, our elementary school painted a mural in your honor. :) everytime i would walk in there i would get choked up and eventually cry. it was beautiful, and still stands, 10 years later.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;     I miss you Becky. i wish more for you to be here than i wish for you to be with God. There was only pain for you here on Earth, and that's why i am so at peace with you up there in heaven. I can't help but wonder if we would still be best friends if you were here. Or really, how you would be, what you would look like. All i can picture is my beautiful, 10 year old friend with bright blue eyes and curly blonde hair. :) I love you! i know soon we will be together in heaven and we can play again!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I LOVE YOU!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i'm not sure what inspired me to write this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;it has been 10 years since becky passed away, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;but i still feel the pain of losing her &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;sometimes like it was yesterday. &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/4448196122553507262-673675767761512527?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/673675767761512527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=673675767761512527' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/673675767761512527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/673675767761512527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/for-one-i-lost.html' title='for the one i lost....'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7776702318105302509</id><published>2007-10-10T13:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T13:48:05.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>great day of funn</title><content type='html'>i just realized that i didn't post about Jenny and i having a day of greatness after she got back from vacation. duh alex!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, of course, she made it to and from virginia with no incidents, just tons of fun and turbulance on the plane. and so come the day of our fun, we did indeed decide to go to the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;what an ingenious idea!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;we had a blast! we went to seaside, got us a cheap little kite, and her konnor and i went out to the beach. for some reason konnor was very grumpy while beachcombing at seaside (it was about 60, if you can believe that!). he was terrified of the kite and didnt want to be around the seagulls as jenny fed them. they were crazy seagulls, too!!! haha..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;we got bored of seaside (nothing going on worthwhile) and drove up a little bit to gearhart (where you can drive on the beach). well, pretty much we wanted to drive on the beach and get to the ship wreck about 2 miles up. so anyways, we are drivin along on the beach, and looking for whole shells, beacuse no one looks for shells there -- too many cars. so i think i see this big shell, and stop. i realize its broken, swear under my breath, and walk back to the car. something little and black catches my eye, and i realize its one of those orange and black catepillars. heading straight for the ocean!! so, of course, being the compassionate human i am, and not wanting him eaten by a flock of seagulls, i scoop him up and take him to the car.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;jenny and i named him F (for fuzzy). full name: F-Unit!! lol! we took pics of our new-found friend and found a shell for him. he rode with us the rest of the way to the ship wreck. konnor, jenny, and myself parked about 100 yards from it, making sure we were parked far enough away from the water so that my car wouldnt be wisked away by the rising tide, and headed for the remains. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;after taking pics, konnor and i played ring around the rosie around a rusty piece of the ship (with no shoes-haha-i know). about 10 minutes of that and i was feeling really woozy, so i moved out of his way and let him continue on his journey. i took about 20 steps away, and took a couple pics of him and jenny. a few seconds later, a rather large wave crashed about 50 yards away and i knew that it was coming in more than Konnor would have liked. I knew it wasn't enough to do damage, but when it came in, it caught jenny off guard, who had her back turned to the ocean (duh ralph!!!) and came up about 6 inches on konnor (who started to panick).. i ran up, laughing, and picked him up and took him to safety. he wasn't happy. meanwhile, there was a baby in a car seat who's grandma was running with the child, trying to reach safety, while the infant's parents laughed, walking away from the wave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;it was at that time that we decided it was time to go before the tide caught up with my car. when we got to my car, however, we discovered something missing. you may have guessed it alright....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;F-Unit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Oh boy, did Jenny freak. lol i dont understand what is so creepy about a catepillar running around somewhere in my car, but she was NOT having it. lol. about 5 minutes later, i came across the little critter, running around under Jenny's seat. We put him back in his shell house and off we went.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;yeah, that was pretty much the extent of our day. we went home, had some dinner at Jenny's FAVORITE place, La Carreta, and slept well that night for sure!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;pix to come, i hope :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;:) :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;:) :) :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;:) :) :) :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;:) :) :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;:) :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&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/4448196122553507262-7776702318105302509?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7776702318105302509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7776702318105302509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7776702318105302509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7776702318105302509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/great-day-of-funn.html' title='great day of funn'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-6460657740638389600</id><published>2007-10-10T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T11:28:06.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>im NOT happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Life is not going my way, and i'm sick of it.  I want a change.  If i don't get a change soon, i may just blog up, freak out, and who knows what else......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Time away from my son is time lost in my mind.  I work 40 hours a week to pay my bills and everything to keep us afloat, and drive time takes up an additional 15 hours per week.  Where do i have the time, except weekends, to spend with Konnor??  There are 168 in a week, right?  Take away the 55 that i am away, which leaves us with 113.  48 hours of that is the weekend (of which i cherish every moment!!), and we are left with 65.  Now, you have to realize that we sleep about 9 hours a night x 5 days is 45 hours lost..  That leaves me with 20 hours, which 5 is spent early morning getting ready for work (or sleeping in-and konnor is sleeping) and we are left with a measly 15 hours during the week to play with Konnor and get any errands done.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;15 HOURS!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;that's NOTHING!! That is an average of 3 hours before Konnor goes to bed. Sometimes, depending on my schedule that day, it's an hour more or less. :( &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;I'm depressed.  i want more time with Konnnor.  I hate that my psycho grandma watches him all day and that she gets to spend more time with him than his own mother.  But i may have a solution.  I am making payments on a car that is costing me $285 dollars a month.  Now, my work has a way you can work four days a week, 32 hours, and have a day off.  According to my calculations, that would result in a $248.32 loss per month.. sooooooo... all i have to do is get of that nasty car payment and buy a cheap-o car, and take up that new schedule, and WHA-LA!!! an extra day with my sweet baby..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;The downside... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;i have to figure out how to get rid of the car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;the new schedule wouldn't start until january&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;well, those are the only downsides i can think of. :) i really think this will give me the peace i want. and then, when eddie gets a really good job, i will go to part time (only 20-25 hrs/wk) and then life will be grand!! I figure i have 2 years before Konnor starts preschool, so I have that much time left of him being my FULL-TIME son.  And by that I mean spending all day with him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Another good thing will be with a new hunk-a-junk car my insurance will go down, and more money there :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'll keep you all updated on how my journey with this goes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-6460657740638389600?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/6460657740638389600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=6460657740638389600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6460657740638389600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6460657740638389600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-not-happy.html' title='im NOT happy'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1244533232176783794</id><published>2007-10-08T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T16:16:38.149-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boey Byers. . an inspiration.</title><content type='html'>as i continue to realize there is more to life that what you are exposed to, i come to terms with the fact that life is unfair. im 20 years old, and know that i am still experiencing life.. but honestly, my eyes have been opening a little more everyday, and my heart is aching for those whose lives are not as great as my own..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition came on, and i was thrilled to see it was for a family in Oregon. i didnt expect what i saw though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boey Byers was diagnosed w/ cancer in January of 2006. She was just 6 years old. Click here to go to her blog: &lt;a href="http://www.jenessabyers.com/"&gt;http://www.jenessabyers.com/&lt;/a&gt;. It will give you the full story and i believe that the originator of the blog (her father as far as i know) deserves the credit of telling her story. Anyways, if you saw the episode, you can relate when i tell you i cried almost all the way through. This little girl has the strength of a bear, courage of a lion, and the heart of a million people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through this little girl i have been inspired. Inspired to make a difference.  Jenny and i are going to fundraise.  Reading stories and blogs and informational pieces, I have come to realize that parents who have children with cancer often don't have a large amount of money to spend on birthdays and christmas's.  So Jenny and I want to do something about it!!  We don't know what yet, but more to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another little girl inspiring this new found love is Hannah.  She unfortunately passed away on 10/4/07, but her story is touching, and her mother is an amazing woman.  You can find her website here. &lt;a href="http://www.helphannah.org/"&gt;http://www.helphannah.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, if you have any ideas to get us on our feet for this project, LET US KNOW!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It amazes me how someone can live life unknown to this horror that can easily become their life.  My eyes were opened last night.  Now its time to do something.  And it makes my favorite quote in the world even more true in my eyees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Isn't it a fearful thing, to &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;love &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that which&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;death&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;can  touch."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;~author unknown&lt;/em&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/4448196122553507262-1244533232176783794?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1244533232176783794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1244533232176783794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1244533232176783794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1244533232176783794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/boey-byers-inspiration.html' title='Boey Byers. . an inspiration.'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7631200540843335442</id><published>2007-10-02T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T09:01:04.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>~~&lt;[THE BLACK PLAGUE]&gt;~~</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm running through a dark hallway, voices and footsteps are closing in on me. I don't know how much longer i can run, but i know i can't stop. i can barely see where im going, but know that if i dont keep going, they are bound to catch me. the fear of that alone is more than the fear of me hitting a wall. i can tell more are joining the hunt by the growing sounds of their footsteps. my sides are aching and my legs burn as i start to slow. i cant compete anymore. i fall to the ground. they swoop over me like a cloud and i can feel the sick, heavy breathing manipulating every inch of my body. i try to hold my breath, but that lasts a mere 10 seconds before i cant hold it anymore. after a minute or so, they are tired of me, and rush off to find a new victim.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;....12 hours later, the coughing begins....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;...6 hours after that, my body temperature skyrockets to 102...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;..an hour later, i can't move out of bed..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;.i have the black plague.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;konnor is cuddling with me, wondering why mommy won't play with him. i smile weakly and stroke his hair. it was a mere 72 hours ago when the tables were turned.. konnor was whiny and feverish as he laid in bed, not wanting to do anything. him and his father both. they were among those with the "black plague" that seemed to have closed in on me. the sickness that has been lurking around corners, and in cubicles the past two weeks has knocked about half the people i know on their asses. out of work for two or more days, and among the living dead.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;try as i might, this "black plague" is surrounding me more and more by the minute. it is only a matter of time before it catches up to me, and i experience the the horrible symptoms it creates. ugh! im struggling to stay awake as it is, seeing as Konnor was up at 4 am, ready to play. :) such a cute kid, but i kept saying, "honey, go back to sleep." he would cuddle up for a minute and then be up again. that makes for a looooooooooooooong day for mommy. at least he can nap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;a stuffy nose is what i have to show for myself now. i hope that i can fight off the "plague" but chances are i wont. i'll keep everyone updated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;words of wisdom: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;if you are capable of it, surround yourself in a bubble.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;that'll keep the germs away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;U&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/4448196122553507262-7631200540843335442?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7631200540843335442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7631200540843335442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7631200540843335442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7631200540843335442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post.html' title='~~&lt;[THE BLACK PLAGUE]&gt;~~'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-3767814567964150470</id><published>2007-10-01T13:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T15:59:08.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As ThE wOrLd TuRnS. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;FiRsT oF aLl:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff66;"&gt;HAPPY MONDAY!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;If YoU cAn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;SeNsE tHe SaRcAsM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;iN tHaT &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;pReViOuS sTaTeMeNt,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;CONGRATULATIONS!!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Anyways, i hope &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;everyone who reads my blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;(which is no one to my knowledge)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;had a great weekend. i got some well-needed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;relaxation time, which proved to be bad now that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;its &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Monday and not only am i *EXTREMELY* tired, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;but every1 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;around me is getting sick. I have a fat migraine, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;and problems that no one &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;wants to hear about. ha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;but ya. interestingly enough, i was myspacing it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;up, which &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;is something i tend to do when i get &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;bored, tryin 2 find a cousin of mine i haven't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;seen in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;a few years. she definately has it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;hard to find her, but thanks to google &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;and my mad detective skills, i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;managed to find her.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;**.oh. my. god.**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Times really do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;change people, despite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;what we think. you think that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;while you dont talk to someone, they&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;just stay the same. and then you do see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;them, and you are totally caught off guard. right,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;so my cousin is half white and half tongan. and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;you know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;she was cute, tiny, petite, and tall when i remember &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;her. now, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;looking through her myspace, i see that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;she &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;has grown &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;into a full-grown &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;woman. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;i half&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;expected that when i saw her, i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;would &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;find her as i remember her. HA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;what a laugh. i havent talked &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;2 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;her &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;much or really gotten &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;completely into contact &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;her, but&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt; it blows &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;my mind how time &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;has &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;changed her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;:) we used to be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;inseperable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;when we&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;were &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;both little. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;played in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;sandboxes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;and on our tricycles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;never really talked about boys at all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;im sure time has&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;changed me too in her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;eyes as well. i have a son&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;now and am engaged and soon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;to be married. i wonder what she&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;thinks of the life i have chosen for myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;its just truly amazing and perplexing how one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;moment can change the way you think of the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;and now i find myself wondering if the other people in my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;life that i have lost contact with have changed as drastically&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;as my cousin. which makes me want to find them. talk to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;i have,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;inadvertinly, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;done this with someone &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;who used to be my bestest friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;in the whole wide world. her and i never&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;left each other's sides. we always spent time at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;one another's houses, and you would find us at one of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;the two every weekend. when we last spoke, it was prior to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;her son being born. she got into some bad things, and i decided i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;wanted nothing to do with her. yeah in a sense this was a good &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;choice, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;but i have to say that i miss her terribly sometimes. i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;kno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;we &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;would need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; tons of time 2 heal things between &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;us. but our boys are pretty close in age (only 13 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;months) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;and im sure could be pretty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;good &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;friends someday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;i dont know though. im &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;edge &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;about it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; its &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;kinda like disowning ur sister or something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;yeah you can do it, but not 4ever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;since we spent so much time together, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;i really feel like she is my sister, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;know &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;w/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;family, there is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;the unconditional love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;have for them. so it kinda &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;puts &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;in a tough spot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;do i trust that she has &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;done &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;better for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;her &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&amp;amp; her son? i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;haven't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;totally &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;out of contact &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;w/ her family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;her &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;brother and my brother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;best friends, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;exactly &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;we were when we were little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; so i know kind of what has been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;going on in her life, and im sure she knows &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;bit about whats going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;on in mine as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;so i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;know that things are better in the sense &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;that she &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;isnt &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;doing the same things that she was when i  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;stopped &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;talking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;to her. does that mean i should try &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;to make things better?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;should i just give up &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;my losses and call it quits with her &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;friendship? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;brings me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;to the question of why i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;am even thinking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;about any&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;this. i said i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;wouldn't. that i was going to be done with it all. with her. but&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;not&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/4448196122553507262-3767814567964150470?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/3767814567964150470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=3767814567964150470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3767814567964150470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3767814567964150470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/10/as-world-turns.html' title='As ThE wOrLd TuRnS. . .'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-6898876208229270321</id><published>2007-09-28T21:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T21:34:33.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it begins....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;word has it the mountain got &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;5&lt;/span&gt; inches of snow today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;:-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;its only a matter of time &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;now before jenny and i get up there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the snow &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;is the only real way for us &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;to get away from the &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;world &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;we know and be &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;carefree&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;needless to say....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;we're excited&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/4448196122553507262-6898876208229270321?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/6898876208229270321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=6898876208229270321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6898876208229270321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6898876208229270321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/it-begins.html' title='it begins....'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-3162186133135069598</id><published>2007-09-28T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T13:47:26.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>~~*TGIF*~~</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;YAY ME!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Guess What, Ya'll?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I Made It Another Week!! Hooray!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I Have 3 Hours And 20 Minutes Before I Get To Go Home And Begin My Weekend. I Want A Quiet Weekend Where I Can Lay In Jammies With &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Konnor And Eddie &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And Just Watch Movies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;PFFT!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;GET A GRIP CHICK!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Konnor Lay In Bed And Watch Movies?!?!?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I Must Be On Crack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ha Ha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay, Well Let's Go Ahead And Say That I Will Be Lazy In My Jammies All Weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Plus The &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;U&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;C&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;K&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Are Playing This Weekend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I Am Watching That Game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For Sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;. . .On Another Note. . .&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The Rain Started Last Night, Meaning The Next 9 Months Of My Life &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Will Be Spent Constantly Carrying A Rain Jacket, Gloves And Scarf Around. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I Don't Even Bother With Umbrellas Anymore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Those Things Are Over-Rated. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Especially When It Gets Super Windy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I Am, However, Super Excited Because I Bought Some **&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;new&lt;/span&gt;** Beanies For This Dreaded Occasion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Back To The Slave Train. Hip Hip HOORAY!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;:-(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-3162186133135069598?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/3162186133135069598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=3162186133135069598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3162186133135069598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3162186133135069598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/tgif.html' title='~~*TGIF*~~'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-5672185651024839073</id><published>2007-09-27T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T11:37:09.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>*!* I REMEMBER *!*</title><content type='html'>You should check out the &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Alex&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Jenny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blog for our wacky &lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;crazii&lt;/span&gt; adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;I have decided that it is &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;in my best interest to not &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;fill my blog &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;with all of our &lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;crazii&lt;/span&gt; times, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;past and present.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;so here is the link:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://alexnjenny.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;http://alexnjenny.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://alexnjenny.blogspot.com/"&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/4448196122553507262-5672185651024839073?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/5672185651024839073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=5672185651024839073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/5672185651024839073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/5672185651024839073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-remember.html' title='*!* I REMEMBER *!*'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-686007850817352969</id><published>2007-09-27T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T08:40:45.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ONE MORE DAY...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;It's almost Friday... It seems like forever since i had the run-in with the fraud issue.. Life is calming and i am beginning to be at peace with the world once again.. :) what a relief..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;New in my life today.. Jenny is going out of town for an entire week!! :( She's going to Virginia to visit family she hasn't seen in years.. I'm gonna miss her terribly.. but when she comes back, we are gonna have a day..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;YAY US&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;!!! we need one. i think her konnor and i are going to go to the beach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Now i know what you're thinking.. its&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;OCTOBER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;, you live in&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;OREGON&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;!!!! why on earth would you go to the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;BEACH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;????!!!! Well, probably because its me.. and its jenny.. and i know i haven't been blogging long, but we are that duo that should probably have our own version of Jackass.. you know, female style..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Any-who-ha... im very tired today. 7-4 shift.. ugh.. break in 18 minutes.. and i cant bring myself to hit the button that will let a call come through on my phone..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;what really stinks is that there was something rather important that i felt was in need of sharing.. and then i went on about me and jenny and our day, and lost track of what i was going to really say.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;hmmmm, well have a great weekend everyone!!!&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/4448196122553507262-686007850817352969?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/686007850817352969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=686007850817352969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/686007850817352969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/686007850817352969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/one-more-day.html' title='ONE MORE DAY...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-8868223990222398470</id><published>2007-09-27T07:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T09:51:53.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FOR THE LOVE OF PITBULLS!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Disclaimer:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;if you leave negative comments in regards to pitbulls, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;i will not retaliate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;i will simply delete your comment and move on with my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;i dont need people like you to bring me down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;this post is not to start a riot on my blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;I JUST WANT THE RECORD TO BE KNOWN:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Due to the recent incidents in which Pitbulls &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;are being victimized by their owners, i have decided &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;"&gt;to speak out in the name of my favorite breed!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/pp_bl.gif?t=1190908226"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px" height="254" alt="" src="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/pp_bl.gif?t=1190908226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;These dogs are not to be feared. they are gentle dogs who just owners who love them, not owners who want them to fight to the death. Gambling with the intention of harming a living creature is wrong in every aspect that i can think of. Now comes the talk of banning the pit bull, and i am &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OUTRAGED&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Konnor, who is 18 months old, has almost grown up with a pit bull. Jenny, my son's godmother, bought a pit bull when i was about 4 months pregnant. This dog had never been around children, much less an infant, when my son was born. When we start bringing Konnor around the pit bull, Lucy automatically took to him. Now, over a year later, Lucy lets my son lay on her, sit on her, and even pull on her ears and tail. I think at one time, Konnor actually bit Lucy. And what does Lucy do? What do you think any dog, especially a pit bull, would do under these circumstances? Why, she gives him kisses. All the time. She will start licking him all over. And in response, my son will give her kisses back. As disgusting as this may seem, he will even open his mouth and stick out his tounge as if he were giving her puppy kisses back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/Konnor/m_a5e128947bb96c15ba2edd3f63144aa4.jpg?t=1190908706"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/Konnor/m_a5e128947bb96c15ba2edd3f63144aa4.jpg?t=1190908706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Pit bulls are much like humans. They aim to please and love the owners who they think love them back. So if all their lives their owners are making them fight and be mean, eventually they are going to think thats what right. In their mind, fighting and violence is making their owners happy, so why wouldn't they do it??? It pains my heart and makes me sick that there are people that manipulate these dogs in thinking that it's right.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Go to a website that offers stories on pit bull rescues and how they react to seeing a human come to save them from the hell that they know. 9 times out of 10, you read about a very happy-looking dog. why??? because they know..... know that they are being saved from the life of misery, fights, and hate. finally, they can be helped, and loved. the only reason a lot of the rescued pit bulls are put down is because the humane societies and rescue shelters have no room for them, and because the media makes people afraid to own one of these dogs. they can be helped. they can be rehabilitated. but no one is willing to try.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;'the source said he consented to our interview to change people's perceptions&lt;br /&gt;about dogfighting b/cuz they have "the wrong idea" about it and should see "just&lt;br /&gt;one" match for themselves before judging it. "they'll let this other thing go --&lt;br /&gt;what is it called? UFC [ultimate fighting championship]?" he asked. "That&lt;br /&gt;is every bit as bad -- you know, that's terrible. But then you have&lt;br /&gt;thousands of people that cheer, rah, rah, and they really love that.&lt;br /&gt;You see guys get their heads busted, you know, and they get their arms messed&lt;br /&gt;up, their legs twisted almost off. But then they fuss over this here, is&lt;br /&gt;wrong.' (&lt;a href="http://sports.espn.go.com/"&gt;http://sports.espn.go.com/&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;The source mentioned above was an eye witness to a dogfight in 2001, where one of Michael Vick's losing dogs was the main attraction. The source is also a fellow dogfighter. This man should have been arrested on the spot, and thrown into a hole so dark, deep, and cold with no food, no water, no love, and no mercy. Then maybe he would under that this is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;NOTHING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; like the UFC.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;IF dog fighting WAS like the UFC, then the dog would grow up a normal dog. He or she would live a normal life, and when the time was right, would go to their owner and tell them they wanted to go out for fighting. Or, realistically speaking, would start acting more aggresive to other dogs. Basically, it would be &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;THEIR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; choice!!!!! In our society, these dogs are &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;FORCED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; to fight. They are &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TRAINED&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to fight!! If you think dogfighting and UFC are alike, you need a bracing reality check.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;As they have said time and time again and as i will continue to say:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;~~&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;PUNISH THE DEED, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;NOT THE BREED!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;~~&lt;/strong&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/4448196122553507262-8868223990222398470?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/8868223990222398470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=8868223990222398470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8868223990222398470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/8868223990222398470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/for-love-of-pitbulls.html' title='FOR THE LOVE OF PITBULLS!!!!!'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-6025449468075566100</id><published>2007-09-26T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T15:28:56.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>have you ever...</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;felt so empty and alone even though you have LOTS of people around you who care deeply about you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;felt like you were screaming in the middle of a crowded room and nobody can hear you, much less see the tears streaming down your face?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;cried so long and so hard that you continued to cry but the tears stopped flowing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;felt as if you were being ripped limb from limp because of the emotional agony tearing through your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;veins&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;felt so &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;tiny&lt;/span&gt; compared to the world and those around you, but so badly wanted to make a &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;BIG&lt;/span&gt; difference?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;have you ever..........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;the last thing i want is for this to raise red flags and people think that i am depressed. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;TRUST ME!!!&lt;/span&gt; been there, done that. scooped myself outta that phase real quick.. i dont sleep too much, i dont have suicidal thoughts, and i surely do not wish harm upon anyone else.. i am just a girl who thinks too much, and wishes she could spend more time with her family and less at work..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i think i'll leave this post as is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-6025449468075566100?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/6025449468075566100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=6025449468075566100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6025449468075566100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/6025449468075566100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/have-you-ever.html' title='have you ever...'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-3971843704238143570</id><published>2007-09-21T14:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T14:51:38.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WORK SUCKS!!!!</title><content type='html'>and boy do i mean that in the most nicest politest way i can. okay i lie. but here is what i hate about work...............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;the politics&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;the rules that apply to some but not all&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;the customers (most anyways)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;the fact that i sit on my ass, getting fat, for 8 hours a day&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;NOT BEING ABLE TO SPEND MORE TIME WITH KONNOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;now i DO get paid $15.52 an hour and pay for none of my benefits. but darn it, i hate this place. aggggggggggggggggggggh!!! and the day is going by soooooooooo freaking slow.. please, just kill me now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-3971843704238143570?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/3971843704238143570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=3971843704238143570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3971843704238143570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/3971843704238143570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/work-sucks.html' title='WORK SUCKS!!!!'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-5684984014613828148</id><published>2007-09-21T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T12:52:06.003-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>a little something i wrote</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;i am scrapbooking in honor of my son. i am super far behind, but have decided that on one page, i am going to put a super cute pic of the two of us, and write a poem. i got the inspiration for this poem last night.. anyways, here it is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;The moment I saw you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I looked into your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I was so overwhelmed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I started to cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Your nose was so perfect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Your eyes round and blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;From head to your toes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I fell in love with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;You cried all the first night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I couldn't get you calm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I wasn't sure if i was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;cut out to be your mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;We formed a special bond&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;As the days went by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Now you're growing so fast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;time just seems to fly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;And it breaks my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;As I watch you grow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Because I know one day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I'll have to let my baby go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I'll preserve our memories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;In my heart forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;I won't forget them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;Not now, not EVER!!&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/4448196122553507262-5684984014613828148?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/5684984014613828148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=5684984014613828148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/5684984014613828148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/5684984014613828148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/little-something-i-wrote.html' title='a little something i wrote'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1992080622146395535</id><published>2007-09-19T14:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T15:37:42.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>things have settled..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;i got my bank account switched around, closed, and a new one open.. i have a new sim card so my phone works..&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;YAY!!&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;im really relieved.. much less stressed..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;now i can move onto things that were important prior to all the crap that happened in the last 7 days of my life.. and one of those things that have sprouted up again is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;PHOTOGRAPHY.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;why, you ask? well ask away and i shall tell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jenny and i seem to find that there are certain things in our lives that put us at peace, and calm our nerves after a day.. and the main thing is photography. we both have older style cameras, and enjoy very much to take pictures using manual cameras. so anyways, since we both no longer have digital cameras (mine was stolen and hers broken) the only way to capture our kodak moments are with these older cameras.. i have a pentax k1000 that i am absolutely in LOVE with!! :) and she has an older canon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So anyways, we have decided that it is in our best interest to start taking more pictures with these cameras, seeing as neither one of us can afford to buy new digital ones. so i have been slaving away online looking up exercises similar to what i did in high school in my photography class. we realize this is our best chance at actually getting better. now we are both experienced photographers, although only in an amateur sort of way. but there is hope. we both have an eye for capturing breath-taking photos, whether that be people or nature.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;then we decided, well if we are going to do all this photo-taking and experimenting with these cameras, we should probably develop our own film. not print (yet) cuz its much too expensive. but we can save quite a bit of money by developing the film into the negatives and then taking what negatives we want printed into a store. i mean, we could have an entire roll of film that doesn't turn out, and we spend like $8-$12 getting pretty much NOTHING developed. i figure with what we save there, we can fund the chemicals and equipment needed to do this. and, maybe, eventually, we could start printing our own pics. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Making the darkroom, however, will prove to be our challenge. i mean i have a pretty big garage that we could take part of it and make the room. the only problem with that is all the crap in the garage. my grandma's crap. now she has her own garage, but still, there sits all of HER stuff in OUR garage. i wont even get started on that. lol. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;as you can tell, i am in better spirits about this whole thing. things are calming and i am getting ready for a nice quiet weekend. maybe a couple drinks and some park time with konnor. :) i love that little munchkin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-1992080622146395535?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1992080622146395535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1992080622146395535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1992080622146395535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1992080622146395535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/things-have-settled.html' title='things have settled..'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-4014605570567713139</id><published>2007-09-14T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T15:32:22.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my amazing son</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;this is Konnor. my sweet little munchkin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/IMG006.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/th_IMG006.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;isnt it amazing how one child, one simple part of life, can just change everything? every day that i have gone home this week i have been so upset about the break in, the run arounds with WAMU, and work, I have walked into my front door, seen Konnor get a big smile on his face, and all my worries disappear. How can anyone NOT love the way a child makes you feel? so innocent, so unaware of the world. so naive.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/Konnor/Photo-0463.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;now, minus the beer can (no he wasn't drinking. hehe) this is such a cute picture. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;he doesn't care that he is being covered in muddy sandy mess. he just cares that it feels fu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;nny, and he can pick it up, throw it, and squish it between his little toes. :-) not a care in the world how dirty he is. why? because no one has put it into his head that its yucky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;anyways, the point i am making here is that my son, so young and happy, is refreshing for me. it brings my stress to a non-existent level (at least temporarily). he ALWAYS wants to play with mommy. and i love him more than everything put in this world together. i can't wait for 6pm to go home and see his smiling face. cuz its been another super stressful day and quite frankly, i dont know if im going to make it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;another grand thing happening this evening is a little drinky drinky time with my partner in crime (almost literally). jenny. i think tonight's theme is going to be punk rock emo psychos. the "im gonna kill someone" sorta thing. haha. we are great together. she had a rough week too. more or less a rough day i guess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;:-\&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-4014605570567713139?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/4014605570567713139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=4014605570567713139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4014605570567713139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/4014605570567713139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-amazing-son.html' title='my amazing son'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i72.photobucket.com/albums/i179/awoods113/Konnor/th_Photo-0463.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1921540831492350326</id><published>2007-09-14T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T13:24:36.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tiny bit of good news</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;and i mean tiny.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;last night, 1130, i get a call from my mom saying i need to come home. ugh i thought as i drug myself out of a warm cozy bed and put my clothes on. i drive 5 minutes to my house and she says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;"someone called. they have your phone"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;haha, what a mean joke to play. then she tells me the story:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;Someone called the home phone (which i have programmed into my phone as "home") and said that they bought my phone. So automatically my mom called the police to have them come over and go with us to get it. B/cuz, amazingly, this person wanted to return it. so my mom, cuz she is smart, called 911, ran down the situation, and they sent someone out.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;so while we are waiting for this police officer, the guy calls back and say she is leaving where he is at and makes a new meeting spot. my mom tells him she is just waiting for her daughter to get home to watch her son. the guy is suprisingly okay with this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;anywho, to make a long story short, the cop went to where the guy was waiting and got my phone for me. :) this guy bought it from a tweaker for $25!!! and this guy's dad is an ex cop. haha. must have felt bad for buying stolen property. i have to buy a new sim card for $20, but on the bright side, i dont have to buy a new phone!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;seriously, what are the freaking chances of any of that happening???? too bad i can't get the memory card from my camera back. ugh. i miss my camera.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-1921540831492350326?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1921540831492350326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1921540831492350326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1921540831492350326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1921540831492350326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/tiny-bit-of-good-news.html' title='tiny bit of good news'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-1515542041177253534</id><published>2007-09-13T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T13:32:17.413-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='update'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='theives'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bullshit'/><title type='text'>update. . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;last night i got home and called the police. filed my report with all the things those meth-addicted jerks stole. (im sorry but thats a generalization, but lets face it, the fact of the matter is that those type of ppl almost always do this). anyways, the police took the report but didn't care that they used my cell phone and i had the numbers. nor did they care that they left their screwdriver in my car. ugh! i understand the portland police have thousands of stolen identity cases, but im special, DAMN IT!! im not really, but like to think i am anyways. :) but whatever, im over that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"&gt;so i got to work this morning and hopped online. 7am. got on wamu.com. my acct is overdrawn over a hundred dollars, with a hundred more pending. great! look up the account and what do ya know, the thieves cashed a check for $130.00. gee i thought the checks were suspended. so i get on the phone with wamu (someone who is in the USA as far as i can tell). and he throws me over to the fraud team. The lady i spoke with was so nice and went through and filed my claim. gave me a # and told me fees would be reversed and the $130 put back into my account within 24 hours. yippy. except i have no debit card to pull money, and i have no license to go to the bank and get money. so here i have money, with no way to get it!!! ugh, my tank is getting down to E and i have nothing!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;well guess what. now i have to call the credit bureau people and report all this. i get to call the social security office. i get to call DMV today. and then i get to call the police and let them know that they stole my freaking money!! im screwed. chances are i had my social security card in my car (like an idiot, i know). but you always think, &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;nah, it wont happen to me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;boy was i wrong!!!&lt;/em&gt;&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/4448196122553507262-1515542041177253534?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/1515542041177253534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=1515542041177253534' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1515542041177253534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/1515542041177253534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/update.html' title='update. . . .'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-7909897515357546414</id><published>2007-09-12T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T14:28:40.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my drug addiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;i dont know waht is better than blogging, really. there's nothing like taking the time to write down what i do not wish to say. its like breathing a super huge long sigh of relief when i start typing. :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;scrapbooking. honestly and truly scrapbooking is better than blogging. its much much much much more expensive than blogging, but truly being creative makes me happier than screaming in writing. haha. blogging and scrapbooking are my drugs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;yeah, thats all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;wow am i lame or what!?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-7909897515357546414?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/7909897515357546414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=7909897515357546414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7909897515357546414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/7909897515357546414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-drug-addiction.html' title='my drug addiction'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-261381640963097896</id><published>2007-09-12T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T14:21:51.990-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='theives'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bullshit'/><title type='text'>you know what bulls**t....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66ffff;"&gt;THIEVES....................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I swear if i could move to a tiny town, or, better yet, my own island, i would. in a heartbeat. seriously. ohmigosh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;so this morning i wake up and get konnor out of bed and go out to the car to go to my house (we stayed at eddie's). as i walk around to my door, i notice some paper on the ground and my door not shut all the way. "no fu*king way" i think. i unlock the doors and put konnor in his carseat. then i open my door. my purse.... gone. my ashtray is ripped out and my glove box has been ransacked. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;F*CK!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i can't freaking believe this!! i go to eddie's window and bang on it. he sounds grumpy when he yells "what?!?!" i tell him i need his phone, and im bawling. he asks why and i say my car was broken into. then i go back to konnor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;he must have flew out of bed cuz it didnt take him more than 30 seconds to get up. by this time im in hysterics. everything is gone. it was all in my purse. which wasn't visible to anyone. my debit card, my cell phone, my checks, my digital camera with BRAND NEW 2gb memory card. UGH!! i take eddie's phone intending to call tmobile, but instead dial my mom. "i need tmobile's # and wamu's #. never mind im coming home to use your phone." i hang up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;my car is a mess. god, why me? what did i do? im too upset to think clearly. i get into my car and throw a screwdriver into the passenger seat. wait, that wasn't mine. never seen it before. they left it and i just touched it. DAMN IT!! its 5:20 and i have to leave for work in 20 minutes. what do i have time  for? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;i get to my house and call wamu. can't get ahold of an operator b/cuz of their STUPID ivr system. hang up. call tmobile. crying on the phone with them about what happened. ohmigosh i feel stupid. they tell me it was used at 3:14 am. i stop crying. now im livid. not only did they have the audacity to break into MY car and steal MY stuff, but they have the balls (of steal) to USE my phone. get off the phone with tmobile. im so mad and frustrated and upset i am SHAKING!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;to my computer. my mom comes in and gets ahold of a live person with wamu. im checking my tmobile online acct and see not only did these &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ffff;"&gt;@$$&lt;/span&gt; holes use my phone once, but &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;FIVE&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;times!! i get on the phone with wamu and tell them to cancel my card and red flag my accounts. thank goodness thats done. now i have to leave for work. i start crying again thinking about my pictures on my camera. gone. pictures on my cell phone. gone. why me? what am i going to do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;i drive to work. my mom, my how i love her, buys me coffee. :) how sweet. i look at my car again. the mess on the floor signifies what used to be in my glove box. i start bawling again. i think my social security card was in there. i needed it last week. god i hope not. was i seriously caught with my pants down in all the ways i can think of? yeah, probably. my lisence is gone. i put on my sunglasses to hide from others driving that i am crying my eyes out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;it could be worse, i  suppose. they didn't get away with any of my $$ (at least not that i know of). they only made local calls. i am calling the police to file a report today and give them the #s that were called. i can only hope for sweet revenge. i know that i won't get the priceless pictures back that i took on my camera, and my phone, but thats life. i guess i have to live with it. but what a crappy day. :-(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-261381640963097896?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/261381640963097896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=261381640963097896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/261381640963097896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/261381640963097896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/you-know-what-bullst.html' title='you know what bulls**t....'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448196122553507262.post-525095108349236004</id><published>2007-09-07T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T15:31:44.095-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>welcome to blogging!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;haha.  my first post.  i cant believe i finally broke down and made a blog.  i dont know what inspired me, really. i just really want to write.  and write my heart out. you know?  :) it takes a lot of weight off my shoulders when i can just write.  friends have said i should write a book. nah, i dont like that idea. too much time and $$. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;so anyways, my name is alex.  i have a son who is currently 18 months old, and the love of my life. you will hear a lot about my little munchkin. i guarantee that.  also, my loving boyfriend of 4 years, eddie.  but probably, and most likely, you will hear about jenny.  my best friend.  and our wacky zanie adventures! jenny and i are a couple of crazy chicks lookin to have a fun time.  9 times out of 10 without anyone else, but there are people that get in on the fun. so yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;thats me. thats my people. im sure you'll become better acquainted with me and my peeps as i blog. for sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;have a good day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;oh yeah, and i dont write by the rules of grammar. so if you dont like that i dont capitalize or put in my commas or apostrophes, im sorry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4448196122553507262-525095108349236004?l=sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/feeds/525095108349236004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4448196122553507262&amp;postID=525095108349236004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/525095108349236004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4448196122553507262/posts/default/525095108349236004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sweetazzhonee.blogspot.com/2007/09/welcome-to-blogging.html' title='welcome to blogging!!'/><author><name>*.::alex::.*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02856144643695226448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AFLGxIFTiM/SvINfaWfIAI/AAAAAAAAADs/YF0N0A50GMM/S220/propic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
