<?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-9101569426455006440</id><updated>2012-02-16T06:53:40.832-07:00</updated><category term='Me'/><category term='Rednecks'/><category term='Hair'/><category term='Synchronized pickle slicing'/><category term='Game'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Decor'/><category term='Sarcasm'/><category term='Dogs'/><category term='I&apos;ve officially lost it'/><category term='Memories'/><category term='LDS Church'/><category term='birds'/><category term='Crazy me'/><category term='80&apos;s rock'/><category term='Bull riding'/><category term='Computer'/><category term='Parents'/><category term='What a feelin&apos;'/><category term='Reunions'/><category term='Shopping'/><category term='Jaw'/><category term='Food'/><category term='When good animals go bad'/><category term='Stuff about me'/><category term='Adriano Moraes'/><category term='GIVEAWAY'/><category term='Hubby'/><category term='who needs money'/><category term='Funny Stuff'/><category term='School'/><category term='It&apos;s all fun and games'/><category term='Chocolate'/><category term='Holidays'/><category term='Olympic BBQ'/><category term='Childhood'/><category term='Aliens'/><category term='Where am I and who are these kids'/><category term='Alzheimers at 40ish'/><category term='what is that in your back'/><category term='I&apos;m in the slammer again'/><category term='Winter'/><category term='Oops I did it again'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='award'/><category term='Twilight Illness'/><category term='Contest Winnings'/><category term='American Idol'/><category term='Claim to Fame'/><category term='It&apos;s cold and it sucks'/><category term='Puppy'/><category term='Children'/><category term='wacky words'/><category term='Say it aint so..I will not go'/><category term='Mission'/><category term='Fancy Things'/><category term='Fat People'/><category term='Love'/><category term='awards'/><category term='Birthdays'/><category term='SURPRISE'/><category term='My many talents'/><category term='Weekends'/><category term='Crazy Pet'/><category term='testing'/><category term='Ahh fond memories'/><category term='Flower Arranging'/><category term='Really important stuff'/><category term='I can&apos;t believe you just said that'/><category term='On My Journey To Stardom'/><category term='Home from vacation woes'/><category term='Teen torture time'/><title type='text'>MOMENTS OF MADNESS WITH DIANA</title><subtitle type='html'>JOIN ME FOR TIDBITS OF COMPLETELY RANDOM &amp;amp; CRAZY THOUGHTS AS I MAKE MY WAY THROUGH EACH DAY!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>173</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5728796415582703847</id><published>2010-06-13T18:15:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T18:58:33.220-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Business Travel Just Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be</title><content type='html'>Travel can seem like fun even when working until you arrive at work to this latest travel policy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tight travel budget&lt;br /&gt;All workers please be advised of the following changes to the travel policy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Memorandum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To: All Employees&lt;br /&gt;From: Headquarters&lt;br /&gt;Subject: Business Travel Policy Guidelines&lt;br /&gt;Date: June 12,2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to fiscal constraints, the following corporate policies are announced regarding employees on travel for official business. The purpose of these policies is to save money, thereby decreasing overhead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Transportation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If commercial transportation must be utilized, the lowest cost tickets will be purchased. Airline tickets will only be authorized for purchase in extreme circumstances and, the lowest fares will be used. If, for example, a meeting with a customer is scheduled in Seattle, but a lower fare can be obtained by traveling to Detroit, then travel to Detroit will be substituted for travel to Seattle. Bus transportation will be utilized whenever possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hitchhiking in lieu of commercial transport is strictly encouraged. Luminescent safety vests will be issued to all employees prior to their departure on company business trips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lodging&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All employees are encouraged to stay with relatives or friends while on company business. If this is not possible, then cost effective alternatives should be exploited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Public areas such as parks and parking lots can be used during periods of good weather. In inclement weather, bridges may provide temporary shelter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expenditures for meals will be limited to the absolute minimum. It should be noted that grocery chains, such as "Sam's Club" and "Albertson's" stores often provide free samples of promotional items. Entire meals can often be obtained in this manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Travelers should also become familiar with, and exploit the use of, indigenous roots, berries, and other protein sources available at their destination. If restaurants must be utilized, travellers should seek establishments offering "all you can eat" salad bars. This will be especially valuable to employees travelling together, as a single plate can be used to feed one clever group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Employees are also encouraged to bring their own food while on company business. Cans of tuna fish, Spam and Beef-a-roni can be conveniently consumed at your leisure, without the unnecessary bother of heating or other costly preparation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entertainment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entertainment while on travel is discouraged. If such extravagances are required for business reasons, the customer should be encouraged to "pick up the tab". Such actions will save the company money and also convince the customer that we are concerned about "spending his money on providing a good product for him", not on useless overhead frivolities which can drive up our prices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hospitality provided to our customers at our facility shall be tasteful, yet cost-effective. In lieu of frivolous dinners, a picnic bench will be placed in the parking lot complete with garden hose for liquid refreshments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miscellaneous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All employees are encouraged to employ innovative techniques in our common effort to save corporate dollars. One enterprising individual has already suggested that money could be raised during airport "layover" periods which could be used to defray travel costs. In support of this idea, "Red Caps" will be issued to all employees prior to departure so that they may earn tips for helping other travellers with their luggage during such periods. Small plastic roses will also be made available to employees so that sales may be made as time permits.&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I am glad my company isn't so tight and they even freaked a bit when I stayed in a La Quinta in the San Diego area next to a Gentleman's Club. How was I supposed to know it was there? I could have been saving them some money.....and making them some too! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that I am traveling as much as three times a month now so I will keep you posted on my adventures in travel. Heaven knows that something funny, hateful or crazy happens each trip!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  I may try the red cap trick or silk rose sales for spending money;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5728796415582703847?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5728796415582703847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5728796415582703847&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5728796415582703847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5728796415582703847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2010/06/business-travel-just-isnt-all-its.html' title='Business Travel Just Isn&apos;t All It&apos;s Cracked Up To Be'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6322335298572163513</id><published>2010-04-28T18:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T18:57:49.523-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A First Grade Quiz For You!</title><content type='html'>My son Ty was having a most creative night in writing short stories.  See if you can &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;decipher&lt;/span&gt; what they say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S9jX-1ng8QI/AAAAAAAABNg/gB7HLmIokDQ/s1600/tysilly3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465355622358774018" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S9jX-1ng8QI/AAAAAAAABNg/gB7HLmIokDQ/s400/tysilly3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465355611303756706" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S9jX-Mbyw6I/AAAAAAAABNQ/auQxoVDtJ6I/s400/tysilly.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465355630550630786" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S9jX_UImwYI/AAAAAAAABNo/ycEWZhJPcY4/s400/tysilly2.jpg" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;(if you can't tell that part of the above includes the word &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;McDonalds&lt;/span&gt;, you need to get out more;) Funny that the child can spell that right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465355617969831154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S9jX-lRG_PI/AAAAAAAABNY/rUbZd-ElSrQ/s400/tysilly1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the prize if you win?  You get a virtual high five!.....and the title "I am on the level of a first grader";)  Good Luck!&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/9101569426455006440-6322335298572163513?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6322335298572163513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6322335298572163513&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6322335298572163513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6322335298572163513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2010/04/first-grade-quiz-for-you.html' title='A First Grade Quiz For You!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S9jX-1ng8QI/AAAAAAAABNg/gB7HLmIokDQ/s72-c/tysilly3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4796477727900136065</id><published>2010-02-26T21:39:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T21:53:18.002-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life!.......sigh</title><content type='html'>Do you ever feel like the world is crashing down on you? It's been one of those weeks!.... I am glad it's almost over..... at least I HOPE!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iivVbqMtI/AAAAAAAABNI/y-JS5ckpu7I/s1600-h/prozac.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 270px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442779083767952082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iivVbqMtI/AAAAAAAABNI/y-JS5ckpu7I/s400/prozac.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a mixture of stresses actually.  First there are the "What ifs" at work.... and at home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iivOyVXBI/AAAAAAAABNA/PoiNJPTuf2g/s1600-h/stressed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442779081984007186" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iivOyVXBI/AAAAAAAABNA/PoiNJPTuf2g/s400/stressed.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And there are the mounting piles of tax documents to sort through and prepare.&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iiuVmJKuI/AAAAAAAABM4/DrMcbKBKw_s/s1600-h/taxes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442779066632055522" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iiuVmJKuI/AAAAAAAABM4/DrMcbKBKw_s/s400/taxes.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And finally there are those kids.  Kinda wishing I hadn't cut the duct tape.  They are safer when they are secured to the wall.  And to think I have four!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iiuJrnCAI/AAAAAAAABMw/jrHTi9IEJEM/s1600-h/funny-kid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 393px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 295px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442779063433758722" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iiuJrnCAI/AAAAAAAABMw/jrHTi9IEJEM/s400/funny-kid.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may need a little shopping a lot of chocolate and some In-N-Out therapy to get me somewhat out of this funk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iitqwUGsI/AAAAAAAABMo/f8s714q4cKs/s1600-h/innout.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442779055131990722" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iitqwUGsI/AAAAAAAABMo/f8s714q4cKs/s400/innout.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"But doctor... I don't know why I am over weight?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/9101569426455006440-4796477727900136065?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4796477727900136065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4796477727900136065&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4796477727900136065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4796477727900136065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2010/02/lifesigh.html' title='Life!.......sigh'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S4iivVbqMtI/AAAAAAAABNI/y-JS5ckpu7I/s72-c/prozac.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-339138970292881622</id><published>2010-02-03T20:27:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T21:10:12.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Think He's Got A Future!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So after reviewing the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;latest&lt;/span&gt; pics of my absolutely adorable (looks like his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;glamma&lt;/span&gt;;) grandson &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ryker&lt;/span&gt;, I think he may have a future in football! Hurray!! Check out the evidence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 317px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434232817421358146" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S2pF9KUrlEI/AAAAAAAABMg/ZiDYo4B1wnc/s400/059.JPG" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Helmet anyone?  The babe is really comfortable in it and it's a must to be worn around the house;)  See!  He loves it!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434231230586379570" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S2pEgy5vXTI/AAAAAAAABMY/faSPazJLyC4/s400/055.JPG" /&gt;Check out the football player neck......what? You don't see a neck? Precisely my point!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 386px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434231221725766514" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S2pEgR5NI3I/AAAAAAAABMQ/MDubzn8YMvU/s400/054.JPG" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;He will eat anything in his path......I think he will make a great linebacker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434231216254197906" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S2pEf9groJI/AAAAAAAABMI/uRgUlqMJMFw/s400/057.JPG" /&gt;Like I said, he loves food....Cheetos can sure mess up a white shirt. Oh well! I'm the grandma! I make him happy with food, dirty him up, and send him home;) Love this grandma deal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434231210912369890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S2pEfpnFzOI/AAAAAAAABMA/iaOoNzxc3hw/s400/046.JPG" /&gt;He has the pose down. We will only let him play with footballs at our house. No trucks, no rattles. You know, we don't want to distract his concentration on the sport yet....ever;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434229002414411762" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S2pCfGUJT_I/AAAAAAAABLw/ABwaCPPMt0w/s400/026.JPG" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh we put the helmet on Steve too.  Not because we are trying to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;persuade&lt;/span&gt; him to be a football player.....It's because he's getting old and manages to pass out and fall a lot, bumping his cranium.  Ouch! Poor old grandpa Steve:(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/9101569426455006440-339138970292881622?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/339138970292881622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=339138970292881622&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/339138970292881622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/339138970292881622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-think-hes-got-future.html' title='I Think He&apos;s Got A Future!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S2pF9KUrlEI/AAAAAAAABMg/ZiDYo4B1wnc/s72-c/059.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6115222653410484398</id><published>2010-01-10T18:33:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T19:13:37.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten shots to kick of 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We decided to kick of the New Year with some sledding&lt;/span&gt;!  What is more fun than bruising your entire body, freezing your toes off and wetting yourself all at once?  I say absolutely NOTHING! Fortunately, it was a nice day and hadn't snowed for many days prior so we didn't get too cold or wet!  Unfortunately, it hadn't snowed for many days and everyone and their dog had previously used this hill to sled and so it was a bumpy ice sheet! (It still pains me to sit;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDaTdbsGI/AAAAAAAABLA/-gLvvwcyurY/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425293189044744290" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDaTdbsGI/AAAAAAAABLA/-gLvvwcyurY/s400/003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Above is Alex and he was going to show us how to do this with great style and ease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDZ4fo1TI/AAAAAAAABK4/S_QvV4EHC7I/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425293181806236978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDZ4fo1TI/AAAAAAAABK4/S_QvV4EHC7I/s400/015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is he re-enacting his wreck.  Luckily he skidded to a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;halt&lt;/span&gt; half in his sled!  It sure made dragging his injured carcass behind the truck and back home much easier;)  OH seriously!  Do you think I would really do that? &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hehehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDZW2d3qI/AAAAAAAABKw/3GZ_3q1dapg/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425293172775181986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDZW2d3qI/AAAAAAAABKw/3GZ_3q1dapg/s400/017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ty giving his "before the hill" shot above.  He wasn't sure what to think of sledding and has always been such a whiner in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDYls-Z5I/AAAAAAAABKo/g1oIq6Pw3Ik/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425293159582033810" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDYls-Z5I/AAAAAAAABKo/g1oIq6Pw3Ik/s400/013.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He absolutely loved it!  Above he hit a jump and left his sled but managed to keep a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;hold&lt;/span&gt; on it the whole time.  We had to bribe the boy to get him to leave that place!  We were all tired and injured and he was just having the time of his life!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDYdfET_I/AAAAAAAABKg/-pG13IZm6to/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425293157376217074" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDYdfET_I/AAAAAAAABKg/-pG13IZm6to/s400/008.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Steve got a little off course and we were sure glad he had his legs together!  Swing sets can be really dangerous EVEN when you are not on them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qC3FFJspI/AAAAAAAABKY/Ulmcx56Hqns/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425292583889384082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qC3FFJspI/AAAAAAAABKY/Ulmcx56Hqns/s400/018.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; No I didn't do my hair for the event....why do you ask?  And YES my New Year's resolution is to lose weight...don't ask!  (I have dropped 9.5 so far and only have a million more to go;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qC2u7a6JI/AAAAAAAABKQ/Cg9hcSFOp5s/s1600-h/031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425292577942988946" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qC2u7a6JI/AAAAAAAABKQ/Cg9hcSFOp5s/s400/031.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The three amigos didn't think it was suicidal enough to go alone.  Why not have other bodies to thrash against??  I don't think it was many more trips after this that Steve and Alex went down together, went off a snow jump and both hurt their backs....game over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qC2d6ChnI/AAAAAAAABKI/op_3xFlMM9Q/s1600-h/036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425292573373793906" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qC2d6ChnI/AAAAAAAABKI/op_3xFlMM9Q/s400/036.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Steve was bound and determined to try it in every position and fortunately he didn't break a bone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qC18Gyg8I/AAAAAAAABKA/16SWQhXcdDA/s1600-h/037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425292564300465090" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qC18Gyg8I/AAAAAAAABKA/16SWQhXcdDA/s400/037.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He did crash and burn too many times to count though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qC1eo6RyI/AAAAAAAABJ4/m7-ie5j3QFI/s1600-h/040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425292556390516514" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qC1eo6RyI/AAAAAAAABJ4/m7-ie5j3QFI/s400/040.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; YES I did go down and MANY times!  I just don't allow those pictures to be shown here.....or anywhere!  That's the luxury of it being my blog!  Hope you all kicked off the new year in great style!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/9101569426455006440-6115222653410484398?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6115222653410484398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6115222653410484398&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6115222653410484398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6115222653410484398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2010/01/ten-shots-to-kick-of-2010.html' title='Ten shots to kick of 2010'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0qDaTdbsGI/AAAAAAAABLA/-gLvvwcyurY/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-8290478340466046190</id><published>2010-01-05T17:40:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T18:45:53.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Blow An Ovary (And other mishaps you might experience having realized I finally posted)</title><content type='html'>Yup! It's true!  It's really me!!.....Me, Diana!  Holy cow you have a short memory!  Lucky for you I have included a picture of myself JUST in case you also forgot what I look like.  And if you don't remember me looking like that picture, it may just be because I got a REALLY short haircut.  I have to be sassy you know....I'm getting old.  Plus an HR Manager should look sassy right?....or was that Bi*#%y?  I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlruZMCZI/AAAAAAAABJw/qSuuA53l8TY/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423430915635022226" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlruZMCZI/AAAAAAAABJw/qSuuA53l8TY/s400/011.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Christmas Eve is always a good time at my parent's house.  We have the traditional smoked turkey, clam chowder and all sorts of yummy fattening goods!  Once we are good and stuffed, the kids open a present of pajamas and are required to do a fashion show for all to see.  Keisha was a loser and wouldn't do the catwalk but dang she is sporting those Hello Kitty &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt; with great fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlrTO5tPI/AAAAAAAABJo/k7RHD4726Ws/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423430908344120562" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlrTO5tPI/AAAAAAAABJo/k7RHD4726Ws/s400/004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Back at my house, we were joined by my son and his wife and of course my adorable grandson.  He looks just like his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;glamma&lt;/span&gt; don't you think? OK, so at least we have the chubby cheeks in common.  I'll take what I can get!  Wouldn't he make one cute elf?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlN1L-L2I/AAAAAAAABJg/ttNUuPD0zIw/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423430402062561122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlN1L-L2I/AAAAAAAABJg/ttNUuPD0zIw/s400/017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah, Ty and Jake posing for a picture while Jake and Sarah open their &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PJs&lt;/span&gt;.  And NO I didn't force them to do that catwalk in theirs.  Check out &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Beaux&lt;/span&gt; assisting Jake with his gift.  I have never &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;re-wrapped&lt;/span&gt; so many gifts in my life.  He managed to unwrap about 9 presents to punish us while we were away.  Crazy dog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlNmff8uI/AAAAAAAABJY/ULHBAmIK5fU/s1600-h/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423430398117933794" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlNmff8uI/AAAAAAAABJY/ULHBAmIK5fU/s400/020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas morning is always a treat since the kids rise at 5:30....yawn!  It's tradition that I take a picture of them by their gifts before they can open them.  They sure love that tradition!  And they always look so darn excited for the shot too!  The other tradition is that NOBODY can take a picture of mom on Christmas morning.  Nope!  Not having it!  I don't want that stuff being passed around or worse yet, splashed all over the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;internets&lt;/span&gt;;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlNM_DQQI/AAAAAAAABJQ/tD7YDXloeLc/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423430391270949122" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlNM_DQQI/AAAAAAAABJQ/tD7YDXloeLc/s400/023.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ty seems pretty enthused with his orange.  Silly Santa actually wasted money and bought gifts! Duh!  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Beaux&lt;/span&gt; is licking his lips at the looks of that orange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlMigwk0I/AAAAAAAABJI/Wdxiu4ICTjo/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423430379869606722" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlMigwk0I/AAAAAAAABJI/Wdxiu4ICTjo/s400/024.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex makes a really lame Vanna.  Just saying.  I do have to give him an A for effort as he is more animated than all my other kids put together at Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlMX_8H_I/AAAAAAAABJA/cRCXo7gxzqw/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423430377047597042" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlMX_8H_I/AAAAAAAABJA/cRCXo7gxzqw/s400/025.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That concludes our Christmas Eve and Christmas photo extravaganza.  I took more but I am just plain pooped out!  This working hard is kicking my butt!  I seem to want to veg when I get home after a crazy day of whining employees;)  No seriously, they are great (for the most part) and life is good....and going...super fast like!  I hope that you all had a wonderful holiday season.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;STAY TUNED BECAUSE I SERIOUSLY AM GOING TO POST AGAIN SOON...I SWEAR IT! I have other adventures to share but..must..get...sleep....too...weak....too...tired.  Get off my back! I know it's only 6:45 p.m. but bedtime has been known to accidentally happen at 7!  I'm old..&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;GAH&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/9101569426455006440-8290478340466046190?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/8290478340466046190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=8290478340466046190&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/8290478340466046190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/8290478340466046190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2010/01/dont-blow-ovary-and-other-mishaps-you.html' title='Don&apos;t Blow An Ovary (And other mishaps you might experience having realized I finally posted)'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/S0PlruZMCZI/AAAAAAAABJw/qSuuA53l8TY/s72-c/011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5290606333710869304</id><published>2009-10-30T20:01:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T19:53:17.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Happenings</title><content type='html'>Halloween is really one of those holidays that I could skip over and not feel to bad about. Unfortunately, I have kids and you know how they feel about the holiday! Ty started early with his desire to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Optimus&lt;/span&gt; Prime. The boy has me figured out. He starts nagging me a couple of months before a holiday and he usually gets his way. This time it was getting his costume about 5-6 weeks early. I swear the child had worn it out by the time Halloween arrived, since he put it on daily......This need for preparedness didn't run in the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Su5DqTOcteI/AAAAAAAABH0/_I-dDR7zWpo/s1600-h/tytransformer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399327397258245602" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Su5DqTOcteI/AAAAAAAABH0/_I-dDR7zWpo/s400/tytransformer.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Jake and Sarah (My &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;DIL&lt;/span&gt;). He was putting his costume together minutes before the ward trunk or treat. And it probably was a good thing! Going around the neighborhood in his Lady Gaga get up may have been a bit freaky! (Fortunately I didn't get a close up with my phone since he is sporting girls size 14-16 tight black stretch pants:) Sarah is a witch.... and she is dressed up like one too. KIDDING PEOPLE!! I really like her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Su5DqSVK2kI/AAAAAAAABHs/NVahtHksJ_M/s1600-h/ladygaga%26witch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399327397017999938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Su5DqSVK2kI/AAAAAAAABHs/NVahtHksJ_M/s400/ladygaga%26witch.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I wish I had taken pictures of all of the kids because they all were adorable! I couldn't help but snap a picture of darling Avery in her 50s costume and her adorable sister Claire! I didn't get a picture of Alex in his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Spiderman&lt;/span&gt; costume.....Sorry Al, I'm an unfit mother it's true;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Su5DqMnOMLI/AAAAAAAABHk/n01p8ik6d8s/s1600-h/avery%26claire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399327395483103410" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Su5DqMnOMLI/AAAAAAAABHk/n01p8ik6d8s/s400/avery%26claire.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And check out my cuter than ever grandson &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ryker&lt;/span&gt;!! He's a Kangaroo if you can't tell. I had to take pictures with my phone camera because I swear EVERY time I go to use the camera, the batteries are mysteriously dead! I don't think it involves battery switching by the kids for their toys. They would never do that!....NOT! Check out the baby Joey in his pouch! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398578699861064402" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SuuauYE1etI/AAAAAAAABHc/42Czsw_jw3I/s400/rykerkangaroo.jpg" /&gt;Then some people had on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;SCARY&lt;/span&gt; masks!! They frightened all the kids!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wait for it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wait for it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wait for it!!   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK&lt;/span&gt;!!! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Scary isn't it&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399327408879413746" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Su5Dq-hJqfI/AAAAAAAABH8/mABmVyznEZY/s400/011.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5290606333710869304?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5290606333710869304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5290606333710869304&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5290606333710869304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5290606333710869304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/10/halloween-happenings.html' title='Halloween Happenings'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Su5DqTOcteI/AAAAAAAABH0/_I-dDR7zWpo/s72-c/tytransformer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-9016244054939473684</id><published>2009-10-22T20:00:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T20:14:26.837-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Moving Out.....And Up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Do you remember when I moved into my cubicle?&lt;/span&gt; And do you remember that I completely loved it? Nope? Well good because I didn't! Do you remember that I said I would try to post more? You did? (darn). Well things are changing around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SuEOx50xFSI/AAAAAAAABHU/E52qvwfYaTE/s1600-h/cubicle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395610079065085218" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SuEOx50xFSI/AAAAAAAABHU/E52qvwfYaTE/s400/cubicle.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm planning on leaving this behind. (I'm sure the paperwork mess will come along).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SuEOxiADfJI/AAAAAAAABHM/_fjAQzTsD6o/s1600-h/cubie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395610072669977746" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SuEOxiADfJI/AAAAAAAABHM/_fjAQzTsD6o/s400/cubie.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And moving into this! (YES it will look exactly like the president's office I'm sure of it:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SuEOxuDXc7I/AAAAAAAABHE/ZPTUFCBVYkk/s1600-h/office.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 306px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 269px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395610075905094578" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SuEOxuDXc7I/AAAAAAAABHE/ZPTUFCBVYkk/s400/office.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, I have been promoted to HR Manager. Exciting? Yes. Feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders? (OK not the WHOLE world but my corporate world...go with it!) YES. But I am looking forward to the journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SuEOxCRAkiI/AAAAAAAABG8/3QRIB4v1Y4c/s1600-h/world.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395610064151155234" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SuEOxCRAkiI/AAAAAAAABG8/3QRIB4v1Y4c/s400/world.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does that mean I have to be grumpy and no fun now? NOPE! I promise I will still try to update!! (fingers crossed behind my back......still:)&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/9101569426455006440-9016244054939473684?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/9016244054939473684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=9016244054939473684&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9016244054939473684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9016244054939473684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-moving-outand-up.html' title='I&apos;m Moving Out.....And Up.'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SuEOx50xFSI/AAAAAAAABHU/E52qvwfYaTE/s72-c/cubicle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6363368938741253239</id><published>2009-10-05T20:28:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T21:47:45.175-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Home Improvement From Heaven</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So I've been thinking a lot about home improvement lately&lt;/span&gt;. I guess it's because our house is over 9 years old and things aren't looking so new anymore...OK they are looking downright OLD but who notices!! (other than anyone who sets foot in the dive;) I've been checking out the local online classifieds to see if I could run across some great cheap finds (yeah I said cheap! Steve is recently employed after 4 months of no job but unfortunately his new job is part time). So it's no trip to Home Depot for me but instead to the classifieds to find good junk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, I found a toilet....really cheap! Unfortunately, I don't need one but I did get a good chuckle out of this ad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$30.00&lt;br /&gt;CLEAN TOILET&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have this toilet for sale is nice and clean i take from a remodel in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;parck&lt;/span&gt; city from rich people no &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;scraches&lt;/span&gt; is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ligt&lt;/span&gt; cream color nice i have the zinc &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;whith&lt;/span&gt; same color any &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cuestions&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;callme&lt;/span&gt; no emails please &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;se&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;habla&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;espanol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seller Contact Info : Jesus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389309484003017906" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SsqsbAKkxLI/AAAAAAAABGU/WapLaVkgflA/s400/toilet.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I had no idea the economy was so bad that Jesus is taking toilets from the rich and selling them to the poor....and claiming they are clean! What is this world (and heaven) coming to?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S. I didn't find anything to improve my home. If you would like more info. on the toilet just give me a jingle:)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S.S If you spell check your post and you have included some writings from Jesus, it will mostly come up yellow due to his lack of proper English and spelling.....I tried it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-6363368938741253239?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6363368938741253239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6363368938741253239&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6363368938741253239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6363368938741253239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/10/little-home-improvement-from-heaven.html' title='A Little Home Improvement From Heaven'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SsqsbAKkxLI/AAAAAAAABGU/WapLaVkgflA/s72-c/toilet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2458792459300705984</id><published>2009-09-26T20:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T20:55:33.042-06:00</updated><title type='text'>That We May Have Hope...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UbsU3b2srQA&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UbsU3b2srQA&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-2458792459300705984?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2458792459300705984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2458792459300705984&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2458792459300705984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2458792459300705984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/09/that-we-may-have-hope.html' title='That We May Have Hope...'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6576647608513134076</id><published>2009-09-23T19:10:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T00:17:05.921-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So I Lied. . . And Other Important Happenings</title><content type='html'>Yup it's true. I lied! What lie you ask? Well obviously YOU didn't read my previous post when I said I would post more. . . .I didn't. . . so I lied. . . . the end!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, on to more important happenings!! I hear you are getting excited to see "NEW MOON". Well I don't know what you are waiting around for. I have it right here! Oh you had better believe it! I'm bringing it to you now because I love you. . . and NO I'm not lying this time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hang on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your gonna love it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I BRING YOU "NEW MOON". . . . AWE This is awesome!! So glad I showed you aren't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 249px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384837597153668402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SrrJQ7eDLTI/AAAAAAAABGE/hHNpQEt50lQ/s400/baby+bum.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummm, so I guess you are wondering about the REAL "New Moon"?? Well it's coming out soon! And guess what? We are throwing an AMAZING, OVER THE TOP, party!! Oh, this is no ordinary party! This is not only for YOUR enjoyment but proceeds will be going to help some really FABULOUS charities! You want the details? OK here it goes!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I present....... NEW MOON!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384837603027652050" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SrrJRRWhDdI/AAAAAAAABGM/41reyg3r9ys/s400/new-moon-posters-3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://coltons-angels.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Colton's Angels &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://bortodeseret.org/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Borto Deseret Orphanage &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;are hosting a HUGE party for New Moon in November. It is going to be awesome!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Date:  We've booked 2 showings of the movie on the night of November 24th. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Place: New Cinemark (by University Mall)- Orem, UT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Times: 7:00 p.m. and 9:30 p.m.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Cost: $ 30.00 per person&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;What's included: Your show ticket, Concessions, a Souvenir, a REALLY great time and an autograph from me;) ....I know you want one!..PLUS and most importantly a donation to &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2 really great causes&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Borto Deseret&lt;/strong&gt; is an orphanage in Liberia, Africa . There they have many orphaned and abandoned kids they take in, educate and take care of. We are not able to send physical items over to them, because of the cost, but monetary donations go directly to food, clothing, medicines, and bedding for the children. My parent's became very involved with this orphanage during their mission to Liberia and we want to continue to provide for the needs of these children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Colton's Angels&lt;/strong&gt; Was started after the death of my nephew Colton at the young age of 15. We wanted an outlet to express our love, to build friendships and most of all be Angels for others in Colton's name. We have provided an annual scholarship for a graduating senior who wants to go into the auto mechanics program and plan to continue this as it was Colton's passion. We are also participating in the Festival of Trees this year. In addition to this, we are currently in the process of making comfort items for children and families who need to spend time in the hospital, blankets for fetal demise, and items for newborns in the NICU and nursery&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you would like to reserve your tickets, please call us at Sweetbriar Cove: 801-423-1876, or email us at &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:coltonsangels@gmail.com"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;coltonsangels@gmail.com&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And hey! I am REALLY going to start blogging more. . . FOR REALS this time! Scout Honor (yeah I wasn't a Scout). But I'm gonna do it! (fingers still crossed behind back;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-6576647608513134076?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6576647608513134076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6576647608513134076&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6576647608513134076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6576647608513134076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-i-lied-and-other-important.html' title='So I Lied. . . And Other Important Happenings'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SrrJQ7eDLTI/AAAAAAAABGE/hHNpQEt50lQ/s72-c/baby+bum.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5642731105512509687</id><published>2009-08-13T21:19:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T22:03:38.795-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We interrupt this useless blog to bring you a post!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Seriously, I'm not kidding this time&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;strong&gt;I really am going to post something! Oh yeah, I have great excuses for not blogging and also for not visiting blogs. It's true! So here it goes. &lt;/strong&gt;. . I have been one busy woman! Alright, maybe I'm over &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;exaggerating&lt;/span&gt; but seriously, spending every day working in a cubicle on a computer can really wear a person out! Not to mention all the other happenings. I have pictures to prove it. Well kind of. . . I have a lot of pictures of me and my grand baby all on my phone from this Summer and that is about it. I'm so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;blogtarded&lt;/span&gt; now I can't even figure out how to put my pictures in the order I want them in. Sorry! I may have to give this a bit more effort in the future huh??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369656952810933010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTajIYAixI/AAAAAAAABF0/Nv0ip11uGIQ/s400/ty.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ty wanted to have a Sunday suit like his big brother and dad and so I got him one. He feels like 20 bucks now. (which is what I got his suit for;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369656936773219154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaiMoUc1I/AAAAAAAABFk/OMco2he8ZVk/s400/diana2.jpg" /&gt;Did I mention I spend a lot of time in a cubicle? It's true and so I get bored and take self pics. I know, that takes complete boredom;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369656966778384994" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaj8aG8mI/AAAAAAAABF8/IiVpoDUGev4/s400/diana.jpg" /&gt; And then when we are in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Las&lt;/span&gt; Vegas and my hubby is in the shower behind me, I take a pic. I'm weird like that. Who needs the scenes of Vegas when you can take a nice portrait of a homely lady in front of a shower curtain? I say nobody!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaibnv0NI/AAAAAAAABFs/G7Mi-q-L7Tk/s1600-h/ryker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369656940797350098" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaibnv0NI/AAAAAAAABFs/G7Mi-q-L7Tk/s400/ryker.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Check out my most talented grandson &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ryker&lt;/span&gt;. Those hands &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;were&lt;/span&gt; placed in that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;position&lt;/span&gt; by him. Seriously! And only a month old! I can see big things coming for this baby!! He's genius I tell you;P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaK1pkgLI/AAAAAAAABFc/O4Kic5JOVLM/s1600-h/diana1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369656535467458738" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaK1pkgLI/AAAAAAAABFc/O4Kic5JOVLM/s400/diana1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And then we went to Los Angeles to the Gift Show for our business. Here I am in another fab self pic in front of a shop in the alley in down town L.A. We love to shop there! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaKULTN_I/AAAAAAAABFU/D80dfrkHFns/s1600-h/innout.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369656526482126834" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaKULTN_I/AAAAAAAABFU/D80dfrkHFns/s400/innout.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Uncle Rich made sure to give us the 1-800 number to In-N-Out so that we could make sure to have some while in Cali. Well, the stars must have been in alignment this day because we walked out of the gift mart to find this beauty begging us to come and eat! And we did! Here are Angie and Mom posing for a pic to show Rich our great luck!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaJvwZRWI/AAAAAAAABFM/OufzWzo9SBY/s1600-h/garmentdistrict.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369656516705600866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaJvwZRWI/AAAAAAAABFM/OufzWzo9SBY/s400/garmentdistrict.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is a pic of Alley shopping in L.A. If you have never been there, it is quite like a foreign country right here!! It's awesome! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaJCA94oI/AAAAAAAABFE/lPpYEtFkYAI/s1600-h/paintsample.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369656504427078274" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaJCA94oI/AAAAAAAABFE/lPpYEtFkYAI/s400/paintsample.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And just a few weeks ago I had a wild hair moment (or a "Diana has flipped her lid....again" moment) and decided to paint my great room. It's a lot of space that leads down halls and down stairs and all sorts of crazy stuff. My unemployed husband began the task but was fired from doing the cutting in when he made a really big mess out of the entry way. He didn't like it when I asked him if he used a blindfold to paint. The color I picked was one of the golds above. I like it. . . or will like it when I finally finish:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369656500590864626" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTaIzuV6PI/AAAAAAAABE8/WX5A_LIbZKM/s400/cubicle.jpg" /&gt;And here we are completing the tour back at Diana's office...er cubicle. This is a rare moment when I was typing my fingers off and decided to prop up the feet and look all cool. Unfortunately, it only lasted a second and the boss popped his head over the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cubie&lt;/span&gt; to find me scrambling to get my feet down and look like I was out of my head busy. I think it worked, they got me some help. . .NOT that kind of help! They got me HIRED help! (although I could use some therapy help;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hope you are all doing great and enjoying Summer (whatever that is:) and that you are not a loser like me and actually blog! Love you all!! And I will promise (fingers crossed behind back as she promises:) that I will blog more frequently! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!! OK, carry on and have a great day!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/9101569426455006440-5642731105512509687?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5642731105512509687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5642731105512509687&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5642731105512509687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5642731105512509687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/08/we-interrupt-this-useless-blog-to-bring.html' title='We interrupt this useless blog to bring you a post!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SoTajIYAixI/AAAAAAAABF0/Nv0ip11uGIQ/s72-c/ty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-956004696194607178</id><published>2009-07-12T21:42:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T22:17:41.045-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Kids Went To The Hospital And All I Got Was This...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;REALLY AWESOME PRESENT!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;IT'S OFFICIAL! I'M A GLAMA!!&lt;/strong&gt; (Glamour/Grandma...I somehow thing I am too young to be a grandma....don't burst my bubble;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryker Von decided to make his appearance into the world about a month early! Fortunately he didn't wait too much longer since he weighed 6 lb. 15 oz. Everything and everyone is doing well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357787571331604242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SlqvaMs5HxI/AAAAAAAABEU/_eb4y2L7MGc/s400/014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I was overjoyed to get to watch the birth of my very first grandchild! It was amazing and my daughter in-law did great! ( I had a bit of a headache and puffy cheeks after pushing with her for so long!  Seriously, how can you not?  For some reason I thought it would help;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357787576474572146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Slqvaf3ElXI/AAAAAAAABEc/NHKzVRjha2g/s400/rykernewborn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Is he not just the cutest thing ever? (Yes I can be a biased Glama, but seriously he is the cutest!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357787583453637970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Slqva53ArVI/AAAAAAAABEs/RhBzmi4tTVo/s400/ryker%26grandparents.jpg" border="0" /&gt;New grandparents and loving it already! (We actually fight over holding the baby;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357787577516591746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SlqvajvgioI/AAAAAAAABEk/O8dq8E5HQqo/s400/rykerandme.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I think I may have already taken more pictures of my grandson than I did of my last born;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357787589282148434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SlqvbPkosFI/AAAAAAAABE0/E1dhCqhzHzs/s400/rykerpose.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;He got to spend a few days in lights due to Jaundice. People have asked us who he looks like. Well it seems that there is some resemblance between Ryker and his Grandpa. See the proof &lt;a href="http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/04/help-wanted.html"&gt;here!&lt;/a&gt; And NO we didn't stage this pose. Ryker just naturally went to this and of course we couldn't resist a picture;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yup! This grandma thing is growing on me REALLY quickly!!   I'm in love!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-956004696194607178?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/956004696194607178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=956004696194607178&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/956004696194607178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/956004696194607178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-kids-went-to-hospital-and-all-i-got.html' title='My Kids Went To The Hospital And All I Got Was This...'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SlqvaMs5HxI/AAAAAAAABEU/_eb4y2L7MGc/s72-c/014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-3620371998115155107</id><published>2009-06-22T19:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T20:11:28.901-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What Happens In Vegas....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAzVAwhIhI/AAAAAAAABEI/CK4y1ijqxUw/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We took a little trip to Vegas last week for business&lt;/span&gt; (which turned out to be nothing related to business...that's a story for another day:)  Don't let the sleeping vacationers fool you here.  This picture is on the drive down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350331143833118450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAx0_rh5vI/AAAAAAAABC4/a1esylObxj8/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Mom said she was making a conscious effort to keep her mouth closed while sleeping.  She knows that an open mouth while sleeping is an invitation for Peanut M &amp;amp; Ms and stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We reached Vegas and THEN the crazies came out!!  It started as a harmless trip to the buffet for dinner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350331146969916610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAx1LXZpMI/AAAAAAAABDA/ucyKzq7u5Rs/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Mom and Dad are enjoying crab legs, shrimp, chicken and other yummy stuff.  Then it was time to go back for seconds.  I joined Mom to load up another plate of goods and while I was away all heck broke loose!!    Steve got control of my camera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350332792463943154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAzU9Tv5fI/AAAAAAAABEA/SQ1IQ3qJyaI/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Here he is doing his usual pose.  When he dies, I am putting his hand this same way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350331151159962226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAx1a-YqnI/AAAAAAAABDI/3BhKCI92Wm4/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Enters Angie into the crime scene....I swear I have at least 30 pictures of the two of them together.  It's a bit creepy really;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350331160282068290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAx189Q9UI/AAAAAAAABDQ/IZ3bfsQOk2o/s400/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Then Ang took a self portrait because heaven knows I don't have enough of these either:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAx2N3fO8I/AAAAAAAABDY/t3JwvwByIH8/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350331164821240770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAx2N3fO8I/AAAAAAAABDY/t3JwvwByIH8/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Camera was then handed off to Dad for this beautiful self shot!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350331722870374850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAyWswxQcI/AAAAAAAABDg/atbiUfvv37c/s400/010.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Gary joined in the fun for an up the nose pic.  I'm happy to say that he didn't have any boogers:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                    And apparently at that point I returned to the table and the fun stopped!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350331725765426834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAyW3jAPpI/AAAAAAAABDo/O3YkSVJBZsg/s400/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt; This is how we find Gary in a crowd.  Day or night just look for the sunglasses on the back of his bald head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350331736642954354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAyXgEaJHI/AAAAAAAABD4/aGiixPA6BV0/s400/018.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Our trip started and ended with a yummy trip to In N Out Burger.  Trip complete!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                     OH BUT WAIT!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350331732108603458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAyXPLVcEI/AAAAAAAABDw/1kYelAATtes/s400/016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I met my dream man Mr. Chip N Dale himself.  His chest was nice and he was an alright kisser.  I finally decided to leave him because he had a big head.  hehehe!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;                                                       Finally, I apologize!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Blogging has fallen by the wayside lately with WAY to much work!!  Along with that it's attempting to be Summer.  We have had rain for about 2 weeks now so it's questionable as to what season we are really in.   I hope you are enjoying your Summer!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-3620371998115155107?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3620371998115155107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=3620371998115155107&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3620371998115155107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3620371998115155107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/06/what-happens-in-vegas.html' title='What Happens In Vegas....'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SkAx0_rh5vI/AAAAAAAABC4/a1esylObxj8/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6406366186619386575</id><published>2009-05-18T18:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T18:48:13.860-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Cubicle...It's True</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today I began work in new surroundings&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; Not only did my company move about 20 plus miles further from my home but I left a sweet office to join the rest in "Cubicle World". Me and my co-peons ( I mean workers-don't get me wrong I LOVE the company I work for) realized that we are in close enough proximity now to spit on each other while talking. PLUS there are no secrets to be had anymore.  We can hear what goes on in each others mind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I arrived to find that my chair had been replaced&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; by what I soon labeled "The Farter". Oh, I spent the better part of the day trying to get everyone else in spitting distance to take my word that is WAS the chair! I have yet to fart. . . . EVER! Anyway, they soon begin to take the bait when they realized there seriously wasn't an accompanying odor for all the noise. I think this may work in my favor. Who will know the difference??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm not sure why but the C.O.O took pitty on me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and put me at the top of the list for a new chair. Maybe the non-stop giggles were getting to him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I found this video and thought it was so fitting for my first day in new digs. . . and hopefully not my last. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nSXDpOrf8zM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nSXDpOrf8zM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-6406366186619386575?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6406366186619386575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6406366186619386575&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6406366186619386575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6406366186619386575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-cubicleits-true.html' title='My Cubicle...It&apos;s True'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5900069682268395018</id><published>2009-05-11T22:12:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T22:24:18.997-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Only A Mother's Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I have heard it said many times that ugly couples have beautiful children and beautiful couples have ugly children.  I think it may be true because I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt; thought my kids were quite adorable!. . . .  .Except then I saw this!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I give you exhibit A:  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334786146659418514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Sgj3vEhPQZI/AAAAAAAABCw/ZeEKgExzQnc/s400/019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Isn't that the cutest face you've seen?  It's Ty-Ty and he's mommas little piggy:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5900069682268395018?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5900069682268395018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5900069682268395018&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5900069682268395018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5900069682268395018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/05/only-mothers-love.html' title='Only A Mother&apos;s Love'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Sgj3vEhPQZI/AAAAAAAABCw/ZeEKgExzQnc/s72-c/019.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4577960374270515649</id><published>2009-04-27T21:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T22:01:47.142-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Help Wanted</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you looking for one unemployed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, goatee sporting, glasses wearing, constant posing man? He's not really very helpful around the house but he can whip up a mean meal of bacon, eggs &amp;amp; hash browns. He can be kind of clumsy but &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hey it's funny&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;! He's not really tidy but he can make a pyramid with empty pop cans like nobodies business! He's not one to say much but. . . he's not one to say much. &lt;strong&gt;SCORE!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SfZ7pYc3RvI/AAAAAAAABCo/wLEAul9ozV8/s1600-h/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329583159907927794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SfZ7pYc3RvI/AAAAAAAABCo/wLEAul9ozV8/s400/010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SfZ7YII4fXI/AAAAAAAABCg/iwVRUIRKwOs/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329582863471377778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SfZ7YII4fXI/AAAAAAAABCg/iwVRUIRKwOs/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SfZ7X2PZRbI/AAAAAAAABCQ/t1Y8DOOKkpI/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329582858666853810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SfZ7X2PZRbI/AAAAAAAABCQ/t1Y8DOOKkpI/s400/025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SfZ7XcNN4BI/AAAAAAAABCA/Us-LTpx_-HY/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329582851678396434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SfZ7XcNN4BI/AAAAAAAABCA/Us-LTpx_-HY/s400/027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am a bit(LOT) more &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;freaked&lt;/span&gt; out at the idea of him being unemployed, but his reaction? He took me out to dinner and proceeded to run down his list of things he is going to &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;enjoy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; doing &lt;strong&gt;BEFORE &lt;/strong&gt;getting serious about looking for another job. And he was all giddy!................................. I just have to say &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Whatever dream boy!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/9101569426455006440-4577960374270515649?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4577960374270515649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4577960374270515649&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4577960374270515649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4577960374270515649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/04/help-wanted.html' title='Help Wanted'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SfZ7pYc3RvI/AAAAAAAABCo/wLEAul9ozV8/s72-c/010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-972034642275457367</id><published>2009-04-20T22:14:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T22:45:43.291-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sock it to me baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What started out as a crappy, snowy week&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; ended up as anything BUT crappy! Yes we did get our crazy post Easter snowstorm and YES I was really bugged. (Really that's an understatement and I was pondering a move to Arizona:) But the mailman showed up with a package just for me!! What in the world? Surely I would remember if I had made an online purchase wouldn't I? I quickly grabbed the box and to my sweet surprise it was from my dear blog friend &lt;strong&gt;Alice!!&lt;/strong&gt; You must remember &lt;a href="http://elegantthimble.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alice&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and my "&lt;a href="http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-got-hot-sox-and-i-cannot-lie-you.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sox&lt;/span&gt;" post??&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;I'm telling you that she is the queen of HOT &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SOX&lt;/span&gt;! I proudly wear my hot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; to work or to play or around the house....all of them. NOT at once of course but they all get equal wear!&lt;br /&gt;I tore open the box to find this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326996100761117762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Se1KuuHB5EI/AAAAAAAABBg/6AqzEnz7qFA/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;What could it be???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326996102692656658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Se1Ku1Ti1hI/AAAAAAAABBo/UHuOSXqCeBA/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;HOLY HOT &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;SOX&lt;/span&gt;! Check out these babies!! Little did Alice know that in Utah we were pondering having another Christmas with the Season being as such! THEY ARE PERFECT!! I made a few laps around the house sporting these fabulous finds and I jingled all the way! NO kidding!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And that's not all she sent! I was just as surprised and delighted to score some adorable penguin, striped, fancy socks! and YES they are toe socks! Seriously Alice you outdid yourself! And I would bet that you NEVER in a million years thought of wearing them with hot pink and white striped &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;PJs&lt;/span&gt; did you? I know! I'm starting one sexy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;soxy&lt;/span&gt; trend here! Don't be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;haten&lt;/span&gt;'!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326996112620997842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Se1KvaSpTNI/AAAAAAAABB4/bJ3V_6w7WYM/s400/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm not sure if I can top these amazing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; Alice but I will be sending some finds your way!! And although this was the high light of my week, I did have a few other things going on. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I got a hair cut and color (pictures to come later when I've lost 40 pounds....in other words NEVER) OK, I will show you if you beg enough!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I got word that my job is moving a bit farther North. Still in driving distance but POO I hate to drive and even worse, stupid traffic. My hubby has 6 days until he finds out if his job has been cut. OH the fun never ends does it??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And I turned a year older.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; That is about all for me week! How was yours? I am sure it can't top my sweet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; but go ahead and pretend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The end&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-972034642275457367?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/972034642275457367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=972034642275457367&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/972034642275457367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/972034642275457367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-started-out-as-crappy-snowy-week.html' title='Sock it to me baby!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/Se1KuuHB5EI/AAAAAAAABBg/6AqzEnz7qFA/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5273812959479959093</id><published>2009-04-11T19:58:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T22:31:54.607-06:00</updated><title type='text'>With Humble Gratitude We Celebrate</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EpFhS0dAduc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EpFhS0dAduc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5273812959479959093?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5273812959479959093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5273812959479959093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/04/with-humble-gratitude-we-celebrate.html' title='With Humble Gratitude We Celebrate'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-7361169975543455252</id><published>2009-04-06T20:23:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T21:25:48.803-06:00</updated><title type='text'>12 Hour Ride For 8 Seconds of Bliss!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'll bet you will never guess what I did this past weekend&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. . .go for it. Give er a guess! Nope, I didn't stay at work. Nope, I didn't work on taxes that are due in exactly 9 days, 3 hours and 8 minutes. And nope I didn't sit indoors and cry over falling snow. The title should be a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;giveaway&lt;/span&gt; to my weekend adventures. (And get your mind out of the gutter:) &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ya'll&lt;/span&gt; er gonna be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;haten&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; I pert near found me a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bull rider&lt;/span&gt; to take home! OK not really but how was I going to use my "Cowboy" talk if I didn't throw in a "pert near". You give up? We (me and hubby Steve (aka Tex....his cowboy alias) and Mom and Dad went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Nampa&lt;/span&gt;, Idaho for some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;PBR&lt;/span&gt; fun!! And I tell you it was fun! Don't believe me? Here's some proof.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321779174579550546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SdrB9pniuVI/AAAAAAAABBQ/OivbvSwy6nY/s400/pbr2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;PBR&lt;/span&gt; you ask?&lt;/strong&gt;  It's "Pyromaniac &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Burna&lt;/span&gt;-Rama"  (or Professional Bull Riders, depending on what part of the show you are talking about).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321779169696229234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SdrB9XbRJ3I/AAAAAAAABBI/pSeXFC6Y-08/s400/pbr.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing I hate more than standing for a picture with a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;bullrider&lt;/span&gt;.  OK, maybe there are a MILLION things I hate more but go with it for now.  You know why I hate it?  Well just take a look above!  There is my cute (small) Mom and then there is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;itsy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;bitsy&lt;/span&gt; Casey Hayes (seriously most cowboys are 5 ft nothing and lucky to hit triple digits on the scale).  Then there is the AMAZON Di and I look like I could eat them both!! (plus I have bad hair and a wrinkled face).  The part I did like was grabbing a wad of his wranglers when they snapped the pic.  Casey normally doesn't open his eyes that wide!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;!  I'm KIDDING people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321779168536909746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SdrB9TG3V7I/AAAAAAAABBA/6qOtjKxHTM8/s400/pbr1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Dad and Steve (Tex)really didn't want a picture with the cowboy so they shoved him out of the picture and pulled in the prop girl (AKA Trixie Lu).  I seriously think she is goosing Dad though.  He is enjoying it way too much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321779175571067986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 350px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SdrB9tT8FFI/AAAAAAAABBY/xVnKPq8IJrc/s400/nampa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;But the best part of the event (2 day) was watching the bulls.  They are HOT!!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You want to see something else hot?  Try checking out Ty Murray (from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;PBR&lt;/span&gt;) on Dancing With The Stars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK  I will return to working on taxes that are NOW due in 9 days, 2 hours and 4o minutes....Yawner!&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/9101569426455006440-7361169975543455252?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7361169975543455252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=7361169975543455252&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7361169975543455252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7361169975543455252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/04/12-hour-ride-for-8-seconds-of-bliss.html' title='12 Hour Ride For 8 Seconds of Bliss!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SdrB9pniuVI/AAAAAAAABBQ/OivbvSwy6nY/s72-c/pbr2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-926969347710760319</id><published>2009-03-29T20:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T21:30:41.302-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Man Has No Pride</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Alternate Title: Tape fixes EVERYTHING!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You may remember my hubs and his attempt to fix the crotch rip in his pants by using Duct tape? Well that was not really the beginning of his creative ways to avoid using a sewing machine to repair his clothing. When we first were married (a mere few years ago:) I was a bit horrified to discover his method for hemming pants and NO there was not a stitch of thread involved. All he used was a sturdy stapler full of staples and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tah&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dah&lt;/span&gt;! At that very moment I wanted to head for the door and start running....but somehow his craziness makes me giggle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The hubs is also REALLY cheap when it comes to clothing for himself and even worse with shoes. I on the other hand know that a good/expensive pair of shoes usually lasts a long time. I'm not crazy and I don't spend oodles on them but I know my shoes. So when a quick trip to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; for cleaning supplies also became a happy shoe dance for my hubs with his 10 dollar find, I could only roll my eyes once again. It only took a few months for his fancy finds to fall apart. The kids began to tease him about the blowout on one of his shoes and so he quickly remedied that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is what I found:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318815948374125650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SdA67LyFrFI/AAAAAAAABAo/-HHh5LO9Hro/s400/014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;As he walked around the kitchen in his fashionable shoes, I could have sworn he was walking on Corn Flakes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318815948600108034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SdA67Mn95AI/AAAAAAAABAw/1DZlW3xpW4A/s400/016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I however do have some pride and was not about to be seen with him in his doctored up cheap shoes.  So I got him these:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318815951345283362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SdA67W2d8SI/AAAAAAAABA4/JtydEJOhZkw/s400/017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm hoping that his nice shoes will detract from his duct taped crotch and his stapled hems.  I can hardly wait to see what he comes up with next.  Stay tuned.&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/9101569426455006440-926969347710760319?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/926969347710760319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=926969347710760319&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/926969347710760319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/926969347710760319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-man-has-no-pride_29.html' title='My Man Has No Pride'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SdA67LyFrFI/AAAAAAAABAo/-HHh5LO9Hro/s72-c/014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-827795080108121285</id><published>2009-03-29T20:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T20:12:09.391-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Man Has No Pride</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-827795080108121285?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/827795080108121285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=827795080108121285&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/827795080108121285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/827795080108121285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-man-has-no-pride.html' title='My Man Has No Pride'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5196669013942328976</id><published>2009-03-23T20:14:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T20:41:00.944-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The DOS and DON'TS of DI</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt; I know that you haven't figured some of this stuff out on your own so I am here to educate you. It's only taken me &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;forty &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;years to figure this out but hey, what good is life is you can't keep making mistakes and learning?? Just consider these my gift to you. You're welcome! (P.S. I'm just giving you a few. I don't want to overload your brain so much that it confuses you. . . you're welcome again:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316575128236660898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SchE6SQ5GKI/AAAAAAAABAY/zJj6ZoB_JEY/s400/s_sausages1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. when you are retaining water and your fingers look like big fat sausages DON'T take a diuretic 30 minutes before leaving to drive an hour. And when you DO this, DON'T stop and get a 32 ounce Diet Coke to drink on the way. And most importantly, DON'T immediately go from driving on the crowded freeway to sitting in a crowded concert hall at your son's choir concert for 2 hours. . . towards the front. You may wish you had on depends. Just telling ya.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316575135658052562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SchE6t6Si9I/AAAAAAAABAg/s5T8GZCKyGg/s400/sandals.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.  When you have had a couple of REALLY nice warm days (70&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; temps) after a long and hateful Winter, DON'T get all cocky and decide that you will NOT for anything return to your Winter clothing again this year!  And when you are being so foolish, DON'T decide to wear sandals to work with 3 inches of snow out on the ground in a normal Utah March storm.  If you DO, you may freeze your toes off and then they will look like those above.  Bung Toes!  Sexy?  I say nay nay.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.  And finally when you DO have a job and you DO find yourself saying crazy things from time to time (meant to say over and over) or typing crazy things, DON'T be surprised when you get moved to a different department with a different boss.  (If you are lost with this, read the post below).  NO really I did get moved but not because of that stuff. . . or so they say.  Anyway, it won't stop my crazy nonsense from coming out.  It's out of my control really.  That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5196669013942328976?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5196669013942328976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5196669013942328976&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5196669013942328976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5196669013942328976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/03/dos-and-donts-of-di.html' title='The DOS and DON&apos;TS of DI'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SchE6SQ5GKI/AAAAAAAABAY/zJj6ZoB_JEY/s72-c/s_sausages1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5714117900749078000</id><published>2009-03-11T21:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T21:51:48.749-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I Need To Stop Communicating</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;After a few wacky work episodes&lt;/span&gt;, I am thinking that maybe I should return to being an Accountant.  You know, the one in a room alone.  The bean counter who does numbers but NOT communication.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoy communicating and yet I have had a few work blunders that have caused me to say "What the??" . . . .Actually, I laughed really hard first and THEN asked that.   &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;It all started with&lt;/span&gt;. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking towards the break room and was approaching a fellow employee I had worked with on a video.  Being the friendly gal I am, I opened my mouth to say "Hi" and I even put my hand up like I was waving.  Instead of &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;Hi"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; coming out though I blurted "&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fine&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;".  I guess I was answering his NEXT question first!  I imagined him saying "Hi, how are you?"   We both got a good laugh out of that one and now when he sees me he just yells out "Fine".  I'm a dork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week later, I was talking on the phone with a woman from Australia.  I was trying to sell her on our really amazing program at my &lt;span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.careerstep.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;work&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  You see we have a Medical Transcription program and you can seriously get hired from home to do this stuff.(nice commercial huh?)  I was trying to explain to her that you can get jobs either full time or part time. . . but that was not what came out.  Just mix those up and you can probably figure that I told her she could get a job &lt;strong&gt;"&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fart time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;".  I've never been good at keeping my composure when something funny happens no matter where I'm at.  This phone call didn't go any differently and I stumbled through words with laughter.  That day I grounded myself from the phone. (and no she didn't buy) boo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And today I realized that duct tape across my mouth was still not safe enough&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;  I was typing an email to a college administrator and was closing with my usual stuff.  I don't know what it is but I am not a "Sincerely" kind of gal and have managed to get hooked on "Warmest Regards" to sign off with.  I guess it makes me feel all cozy in this cold weather.(I really don't know to be honest and I guess it just suits my fancy)  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Anywho&lt;/span&gt;, I had typed the email and looked up for a quick proof before sending it to see that instead of "&lt;strong&gt;Warmest Regards&lt;/strong&gt;", I typed "&lt;strong&gt;Warmest Retards&lt;/strong&gt;" and then signed my name.  Talk about typo!! (I am beginning to think I am the warmest retard) I think that I am going to resort to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Morse&lt;/span&gt; Code.  I can't screw that up can I? . . . &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Don't answer that&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5714117900749078000?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5714117900749078000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5714117900749078000&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5714117900749078000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5714117900749078000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/03/maybe-i-need-to-stop-communicating.html' title='Maybe I Need To Stop Communicating'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-992560102174156138</id><published>2009-02-28T18:49:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T19:06:08.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Husbands, Love &amp; Re-Runs</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;BECAUSE I love my husband.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AND BECAUSE he bought me this really cool phone&lt;/strong&gt; (that requires my kids to show me how to operate because I'm a moron).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SanpyL22JPI/AAAAAAAABAE/djWFMlsfau4/s1600-h/Samsung_Eternity_frontview.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308030684218402034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SanpyL22JPI/AAAAAAAABAE/djWFMlsfau4/s400/Samsung_Eternity_frontview.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I MUST bring this up AGAIN. . . I have to do it. . . . it makes me laugh a little. Just one of many funny/weird things my man does that puts a big grin on my face. Who really does this stuff? Well HE does!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SOOOO&lt;/span&gt; Without further ado. . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308032461262108354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 104px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SanrZn3FNsI/AAAAAAAABAM/RXlD3VM45Lk/s400/holeypants.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I saw this picture and I broke out in laughter&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Of course, I only laugh at someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; expense! If this had happened to me I WOULD NOT be laughing NOR would I share it with you! But being that it's about my hubby, here it is!! I got a call a few weeks ago from my husband, who was at work. He sounded a bit disturbed as he asked me if I had activated his debit card. I told him I had and then inquired as to why he needed it. He quietly told me that he had been working moving boxes with other management and when he bent over he heard a big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;riiiiiiiiiiiiiippp&lt;/span&gt;! He didn't feel anything and thought that the sound was coming from somebody else. He was about to join in the laughter when he realized that the laughter was directed at him. Everyone around him could see that he had ripped the entire rear of his pants out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now, if you were me, what would you have done??. . . . .I did what any sweet wife would do and I laughed my guts out with tears and all! Trying to talk (and not wet my pants) I reassured him I was not laughing at him but with him. (NOT!) He informed me that I was not alone in my outburst and he was dealing with it from every angle! My laughter soon turned to fear and I began questioning him as to whether he had on clean underwear or not? At this point, he was flat out disgusted I would even ask such a thing! Now if this were me under these circumstances, I would have quickly ran to the bathroom, called my other half and had them bring me some new pants regardless of the distance that separated the two of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently He was trying to be more thoughtful or maybe he had no pride left, because he told me that he was going to head over to Ross Dress For Less, which was just a few stores down. I asked how he was going to accomplish this with a big rip in his pants? He informed me that he had taken care of that and had not only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-tucked his shirt but had taken duck tape and nicely placed over the large tear. What in the heck? Like that isn't embarrassing? I let him continue to carry out his plan because quite frankly, it didn't bother me at all! I don't associate with his work people! Unfortunately for him, his embarrassing story has been retold (by me of course) over and over for everyone to enjoy and I thought "why leave you guys out?" . OK. . . .NOW Carry On!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-992560102174156138?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/992560102174156138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=992560102174156138&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/992560102174156138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/992560102174156138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/02/husbands-love-re-runs.html' title='Husbands, Love &amp; Re-Runs'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SanpyL22JPI/AAAAAAAABAE/djWFMlsfau4/s72-c/Samsung_Eternity_frontview.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-8451188642724460215</id><published>2009-02-25T18:48:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T19:26:05.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Funny Thing Happened On The Way Down The Isle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have never really understood the need for flower girls&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; at a wedding other than to make the floor the bride is about to come down really slick! Have you ever slipped on a rose petal? Maybe not, but I can say that I have. . . more than once. Alright, I have more opportunities with having a family floral but anyway. Maybe you should try it sometime?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My soon to be daughter in-law ALMOST had more than petals to worry about as she came down the isle BUT was spared. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaX1uFA7eWI/AAAAAAAAA_0/eI52wKgoB40/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306917907894860130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaX1uFA7eWI/AAAAAAAAA_0/eI52wKgoB40/s400/030.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The first cute little flower girl was Avery, who walked that isle and tossed those petals like a pro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaX1t6LQMMI/AAAAAAAAA_s/XwhZW6xn_h0/s1600-h/031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306917904985370818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaX1t6LQMMI/AAAAAAAAA_s/XwhZW6xn_h0/s400/031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Then came cute Macy and she continued the pace and the artistic pattern of petals on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaX1tgXqt0I/AAAAAAAAA_k/zE4b46JAPd4/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306917898058118978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaX1tgXqt0I/AAAAAAAAA_k/zE4b46JAPd4/s400/033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And bringing up the rear was Gabby the doll face. She was far behind and a bit in her own flower girl world. (I think that is somewhere by Barbie world). It is a difficult task to walk AND throw petals out when you are a toddler. She seemed to handle the task well but THEN it happened! As she paused to drop out a load of petals (I think right here in the pic)she also dropped the gum from her mouth! OH NO! (where is her flower girl &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;etiquette&lt;/span&gt;? )What's a girl to do? All eyes are on you!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, she did what any other carefree child would do and she bent right down, picked up that gum and stuffed it back in her mouth! She stood back up and continued down the isle like it had never happened. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When she approached the other two girls, who were now standing at the front, they began to be alarmed because she had clearly not thrown out her petals in the proper pattern and she STILL had some left in her basket! THIS CAN'T BE!! The girls &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;began&lt;/span&gt; to urge her in a loud whisper to hurry and dump them all out! "You still have petals! Dump them all out!!". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can you say priceless? I've now decided the purpose of the flower girl is for entertainment and to possibly win money from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;AFV&lt;/span&gt;. Now I'm wondering why there is a ring bearer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306924461319564226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaX7ribIq8I/AAAAAAAAA_8/6_AoBwQ5X6Y/s400/114.JPG" border="0" /&gt;More flower girl games.&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/9101569426455006440-8451188642724460215?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/8451188642724460215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=8451188642724460215&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/8451188642724460215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/8451188642724460215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/02/funny-thing-happened-on-way-down-isle.html' title='A Funny Thing Happened On The Way Down The Isle'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaX1uFA7eWI/AAAAAAAAA_0/eI52wKgoB40/s72-c/030.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2128409269998688824</id><published>2009-02-23T21:02:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T00:11:59.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Wedding Shots</title><content type='html'>The wedding is over. I survived. The end. . . No, I am really still trying to figure out if I survived or not. It's hard to say when I look like death these days and walk around brain dead! Regardless, the wedding went really well and I managed to NOT take a single picture of the event.(And NO that was not on purpose) Thank goodness Keisha was right on that and snapped a few. Here is a sampling of what took place. (In no particular order)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306217778569128466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaN49MB5qhI/AAAAAAAAA_c/TPEvk2JT3Rg/s400/106.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Gary playing the part of the ousted flower girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNzhtHIulI/AAAAAAAAA_E/VAF_xXq-k60/s1600-h/100.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306211808854981202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNzhtHIulI/AAAAAAAAA_E/VAF_xXq-k60/s400/100.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jake and his new wife Sarah with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mouths&lt;/span&gt; agape as they sucked in the bubbles we blew in their honor.  (I don't think eating soap is a good pre-honeymoon practice though:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNzhJhkrTI/AAAAAAAAA-8/N-yhunQqZDI/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306211799302188338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNzhJhkrTI/AAAAAAAAA-8/N-yhunQqZDI/s400/021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Photos at a close range are never a good thing. Especially when I am one of those people IN close range. (And YES I did do my hair at some point during the day.  Just not looking it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNzg6cPfTI/AAAAAAAAA-0/TdbN9qKhPbQ/s1600-h/060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306211795253296434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNzg6cPfTI/AAAAAAAAA-0/TdbN9qKhPbQ/s400/060.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Giddy "almost" newlyweds. (Little do they know that smile will be SMACKED off soon enough by reality. (When reality hits, she hits hard. . . and sometimes leaves a mark!:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNyYjwiETI/AAAAAAAAA-s/26IgMvQw6MU/s1600-h/110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306210552213803314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNyYjwiETI/AAAAAAAAA-s/26IgMvQw6MU/s400/110.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A little post ceremony round of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;eenie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;meenie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;miney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;moe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; with the cute flower girls.  I'm wishing I would have joined them for a moment of feet R &amp;amp; R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNyYXjIlMI/AAAAAAAAA-k/nTl8dU-RQQU/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306210548936381634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNyYXjIlMI/AAAAAAAAA-k/nTl8dU-RQQU/s400/023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Owning a floral shop teaches you the finer art of disguising the cake as a flower. (Who knew there was a plain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; cake underneath that all?  Not the guests)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNyYF3FIhI/AAAAAAAAA-c/Ln4SH352S9Q/s1600-h/026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306210544188203538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNyYF3FIhI/AAAAAAAAA-c/Ln4SH352S9Q/s400/026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Alex was a bit horrified that boys do actually kiss girls. YUCK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNyX5BcJlI/AAAAAAAAA-U/QQhII2zxR-I/s1600-h/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306210540741994066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNyX5BcJlI/AAAAAAAAA-U/QQhII2zxR-I/s400/019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Coolest Kindergarten cousins ever doing a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;GQ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; pose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNyXmgXbhI/AAAAAAAAA-M/UAXyLvU4QgA/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306210535771434514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaNyXmgXbhI/AAAAAAAAA-M/UAXyLvU4QgA/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jake (Groom) and Sister Keisha for one last crazy shot before he takes the big plunge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(STAY TUNED FOR WHEN I SHARE A FUNNY WEDDING STORY! ( AND HOW WE MISSED OUR SHOT AT 10 THOUSAND DOLLARS)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. if you were trying to figure out the wedding colors GOOD LUCK!.. . . No really they were: lime green, orange, hot pink, red, yellow and blue. (and anything else that we decided to throw in there for good measure)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/9101569426455006440-2128409269998688824?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2128409269998688824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2128409269998688824&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2128409269998688824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2128409269998688824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/02/few-wedding-shots.html' title='A Few Wedding Shots'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SaN49MB5qhI/AAAAAAAAA_c/TPEvk2JT3Rg/s72-c/106.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-1651655057184885556</id><published>2009-02-16T20:56:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T21:29:41.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm In Denial It's True</title><content type='html'>Did I happen to mention in our conversations or passing that my son is getting married?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you sure about that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No post about it or anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me give it a look.. . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have mentioned family tragedies, flooded houses and floral madness but NOPE no wedding! Now how on Earth did I miss mentioning that??  So I'm guessing then that it would come as a complete surprise to you that it is THIS WEEKEND! !  HOLY &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;MOLEY&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;br /&gt;Let's just say that I have been in a bit of denial. Why you ask? Well there is a perfectly great explanation for that (at least that's what the voices in my head are trying to tell me). I am FAR too young to be a MIL! You know, I'm only twenty or so or a bit more but not much more. OK, OK! Quit your laughing! I FEEL like I'm 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;! Is that better? And you know I certainly act it. That's two things! Isn't that enough??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth be told my son is 18 and I was 12 when I had him so that would make me 30. Just a bit older than 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; right? Unfortunately I wasn't telling the truth right then and I'm just a bit upset that I'm becoming the old lady, the grandma (soon to be) and the MIL. It's just not right! I'm trying to take it in stride though and accept one grey hair and one wrinkle at a time. It's no easy task but somebody has to do it! I somehow thought that I, with my super powers (whatever they are), would defy gravity and aging all at once! (oh yeah, and a bunch of other cool things I can't remember right now). NO dice!! So. . . GULP! I bring you pictures of the happy couple BEFORE the ball and chain. (I promise to post wedding pics next week). That is, if they haven't moved me into the retirement home with no Internet access.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303615098410767138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZo51Q4sEyI/AAAAAAAAA98/Qs4acVRvoCo/s400/040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Son Jake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZo515fIcrI/AAAAAAAAA-E/NEkSExO6IRo/s1600-h/042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303615109309428402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZo515fIcrI/AAAAAAAAA-E/NEkSExO6IRo/s400/042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; His Fiance Sarah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZo51GxYdCI/AAAAAAAAA90/1ZGpYbDMR0o/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303615095695766562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZo51GxYdCI/AAAAAAAAA90/1ZGpYbDMR0o/s400/023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't even ask me what they are trying to do here. I have yet to figure them out!. . . I digress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-1651655057184885556?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1651655057184885556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=1651655057184885556&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/1651655057184885556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/1651655057184885556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-in-denial-its-true.html' title='I&apos;m In Denial It&apos;s True'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZo51Q4sEyI/AAAAAAAAA98/Qs4acVRvoCo/s72-c/040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-1599202558403787964</id><published>2009-02-12T21:22:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T21:54:02.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Shop Of Horrors</title><content type='html'>So I'm taking a vacation day from my "real" job to go and participate in the Valentine floral shop festivities. NOT really much of a vacation &amp;amp; definitely not relaxing but I'm warped like that. At Valentines we get a little (=a LOT) loopy and crazy stuff ensues. Our sweet little floral shop turns into our own "Little Shop of Horrors!" And then at that point, we decide to call it a night before somebody gets hurt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Exhibit A&lt;/strong&gt;: Red Roses which are in great abundance these days. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ohhhh&lt;/span&gt; so pretty.....&lt;strong&gt;CHOKE!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZT4FUEOl3I/AAAAAAAAA9s/-3kl6_Uz9bM/s1600-h/231.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302135431491393394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZT4FUEOl3I/AAAAAAAAA9s/-3kl6_Uz9bM/s400/231.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Exhibit B&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Whor&lt;/span&gt;...(wrong shop)..I mean workers who have lost it from excessive exposure to TOO many red roses!! Close your eyes!! You are going to burn your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;retinas&lt;/span&gt;!! Oh the horror of it all!! (by the way, we are spelling out "Cow", "Mom", and "Wow" for your viewing pleasure....one of our many talents:) We are going for the Unibomber look here, if by chance you didn't notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZT3wL9JWfI/AAAAAAAAA9k/KTyhVMrzjAo/s1600-h/282.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302135068536953330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZT3wL9JWfI/AAAAAAAAA9k/KTyhVMrzjAo/s400/282.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Exhibit C&lt;/strong&gt;: I couldn't leave you with that last picture burned in your eyes NOR be the reason for your bad dreams tonight about little flower shops. Here is some pretty stuff to bring you back around. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ahhhhh&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZT3v44b0sI/AAAAAAAAA9U/cs1ISudvji0/s1600-h/222.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302135063416918722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZT3v44b0sI/AAAAAAAAA9U/cs1ISudvji0/s400/222.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you on the other side of my fabulous Vacation (aka Valentine HORROR). Oh yeah, and remind me to tell you about NEXT Fridays Vacation day (and no it will not involve relaxing or going anywhere). &lt;strong&gt;Boy, I really am pathetic!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZT3B96lvhI/AAAAAAAAA9M/AiViMiVIknI/s1600-h/227.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/9101569426455006440-1599202558403787964?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1599202558403787964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=1599202558403787964&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/1599202558403787964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/1599202558403787964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/02/little-shop-of-horrors.html' title='Little Shop Of Horrors'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SZT4FUEOl3I/AAAAAAAAA9s/-3kl6_Uz9bM/s72-c/231.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-739416750931954722</id><published>2009-02-04T20:51:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T21:41:05.291-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Dental Visit Entertainment</title><content type='html'>I'm not a lover of going to the dentist. Whether it's me getting worked on or one of my kids, it causes me great amounts of anxiety. I guess it all stems from when I was younger.  Back then getting your teeth worked on was NOT as slick and painless as it is today! On top of that, dentists didn't wear gloves or face guards and I just happened to have a dentist with extremely hairy knuckles and TONS of hair up his nose. There was never enough laughing gas to make me not want to gag at his hairy knuckles &amp;amp; nostrils. And there was NEVER enough laughing gas to make me feel like this.....at least to my knowledge.....bummer!&lt;br /&gt;(after watching this, I may take my kids to the dentist more often:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7DMqgp8VY8o&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7DMqgp8VY8o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-739416750931954722?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/739416750931954722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=739416750931954722&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/739416750931954722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/739416750931954722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/02/post-dental-visit-entertainment.html' title='Post Dental Visit Entertainment'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4005449815687286586</id><published>2009-01-29T19:22:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T21:14:43.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OK.....Joke is up people!</title><content type='html'>Don't give me that look.  Where is it?  Oh, don't play dumb now! (you can save that for every OTHER moment in your life!).  I'm kidding people!  Seriously now, where's the camera?  I can't see it but you ALMOST had me going there.  Yup, I was on the verge of  FLIPPING OUT completely and I think quite possibly it may or may not have looked like a scene from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Exorcist&lt;/span&gt;. . . head spinning and all.  But THEN I realized you guys were trying to see how long I'd put up with this continuous crap before I SNAPPED!  I have to tell you it's worth it just to know you were doing it all in fun. . . .so where's the camera?  When is it going to air on TV?  I can HARDLY wait! You may have to tell them to delete some of my language.  It wasn't my best performance.  Boy I can hardly wait to be on TV!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296922078669746658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 95px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SYJykPYIseI/AAAAAAAAA8k/W1OdWpIs1Ag/s400/candid+camera.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You picked a good time to get under my skin.  After dealing with the deaths of two family members within a month, I was feeling down.  And THEN this.  Yeah, nothing like enjoying the unusual rain storm in January and then having the entire basement flood in my house.  That was pretty tricky!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296922075182103218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 311px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SYJykCYnerI/AAAAAAAAA8s/BzpEPvDkyRY/s400/flood.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Oh, and I had just finished saying that nothing is worse than a water flooded basement.. . .  Um, I now beg to differ.  You see POO water flooding your basement is MUCH worse.  You really out- did yourself with that one!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;HAHAHAha&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt; ha.  Ahem.  Anyway, you ALMOST had me going! I JUST ABOUT thought that I was having a terrible streak of really crappy luck (no pun intended).  But then I realized you were up to your old tricks again!  I owe you BIG time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SYJykZtCo2I/AAAAAAAAA80/gI4T8Q8CUAQ/s1600-h/sewer1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296922081441784674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SYJykZtCo2I/AAAAAAAAA80/gI4T8Q8CUAQ/s400/sewer1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes our basement looks and smells a bit like the picture above.  Not a pretty sight at all!  OH, by the way, next time you try to pull one over on me, you MIGHT want to NOT do the same tricks to my next door neighbors (Sister &amp;amp; BIL).  Although we do like to do things together, cleaning up raw sewage is NOT one of them.  Thanks anyway!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-4005449815687286586?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4005449815687286586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4005449815687286586&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4005449815687286586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4005449815687286586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/01/okjoke-is-up-people.html' title='OK.....Joke is up people!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SYJykPYIseI/AAAAAAAAA8k/W1OdWpIs1Ag/s72-c/candid+camera.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-7531302204346920854</id><published>2009-01-25T13:31:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T20:20:46.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>With Heavy Heart......</title><content type='html'>I say goodbye to my dear friend and cousin (someone who was "stuck to me by blood" as he put it) Matt Hill. He was one in a million! So loved, so talented, so intelligent, so spiritual and so full of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're illness with Cancer was brief but you handled it with great dignity and humor! I'm grateful for the time I had with you and only wish I had more! I love you Matt!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** Matt is the "Geek Agent" in the videos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GmxWh9w5A3k&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GmxWh9w5A3k&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GmxWh9w5A3k&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GmxWh9w5A3k&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-7531302204346920854?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7531302204346920854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=7531302204346920854&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7531302204346920854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7531302204346920854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/01/with-heavy-heart.html' title='With Heavy Heart......'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6848302985821592495</id><published>2009-01-18T21:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T21:35:43.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Sorry To Say, I Did It!</title><content type='html'>It's true.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was strong.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I could withstand it.&lt;br /&gt;I had been so good.&lt;br /&gt;Deep down I knew I wanted it.&lt;br /&gt;I just wasn't sure how to get it.&lt;br /&gt;What did I want you ask?&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to be satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to be REALLY satisfied!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept the urge hidden.&lt;br /&gt;I hoped that it was a passing thing.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to keep my mind occupied.&lt;br /&gt;Why would I need it now?&lt;br /&gt;I was used to not being satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;Where was my willpower?&lt;br /&gt;Don't fail me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may not forgive myself for this if I do it.&lt;br /&gt;I might feel like a failure if I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;indulge&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I could look at myself differently for needing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just did it!  And YES I'm satisfied.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a little sick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SXP-dIJy8jI/AAAAAAAAA7k/X2yF-sW7nBY/s1600-h/snickers_bar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292853763448697394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SXP-dIJy8jI/AAAAAAAAA7k/X2yF-sW7nBY/s400/snickers_bar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It was in my purse and was left over from treats I had taken to my Sunday School Class.  (YES I bribe them to like me.  Is there anything wrong with that??)  Unfortunately, all the kids were not there and that left the lone chocolate bar of yummy goodness in there all alone.  I agonized, I fretted and for a while (during the other meeting) I actually forgot about it.  And then I came home.  It was just me and that beauty alone in my room.  I wanted to be satisfied and it taunted me.  I ripped open the package and took just a small bite.  Much like a fun size bite.  Oh, it was fun and it ALMOST satisfied but not quite.  I decided to double the fun and eat just a bit more.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OHHHH&lt;/span&gt;, I haven't had anything so delightful in a long time. (Or maybe just a few weeks since the diet began but it seems like FOREVER:)  By the time I realized just how much I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;indulging&lt;/span&gt; in having "Fun" I only had a bite left of the ENTIRE bar.  Knowing that I wanted to be completely satisfied I quickly popped the bite in my mouth.  Oh yeah, it was so good. . . . Um, a little rich. . . . I was kind of feeling a little sick.  Can one really be over satisfied?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I was. . . . as my punishment, I went to bed without dinner.  That ought to teach me a lesson next time.  Don't take yummy treats to Sunday School.  Only yucky things that I HATE can be fed to my class. (that limits it greatly:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-6848302985821592495?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6848302985821592495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6848302985821592495&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6848302985821592495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6848302985821592495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-sorry-to-say-i-did-it.html' title='I&apos;m Sorry To Say, I Did It!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SXP-dIJy8jI/AAAAAAAAA7k/X2yF-sW7nBY/s72-c/snickers_bar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-7081713928926282207</id><published>2009-01-15T19:10:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T19:28:05.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And When You Feel Short On Time...</title><content type='html'>Anymore it seems that there are NEVER enough hours in the day.  I EVEN find myself wishing time would slow down at WORK!  (Seriously, I must be sick.....sick of work that is!) Here's the clock I'm going to have to pick up.  NO WORRIES with this baby!!  You can just make up what time you want it to be!! Works good for those slow days at work too when you just want 5 p.m. to roll around quickly. I wonder if they sell watches like this??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SW_susZDqWI/AAAAAAAAA7c/kVDufeLgrME/s1600-h/whateverclock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291708374118017378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SW_susZDqWI/AAAAAAAAA7c/kVDufeLgrME/s400/whateverclock.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-7081713928926282207?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7081713928926282207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=7081713928926282207&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7081713928926282207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7081713928926282207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-when-you-feel-short-on-time.html' title='And When You Feel Short On Time...'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SW_susZDqWI/AAAAAAAAA7c/kVDufeLgrME/s72-c/whateverclock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-7193298455850272906</id><published>2009-01-10T18:54:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T19:25:28.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Runs In The Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I didn't ever get to post any Christmas pictures&lt;/span&gt;. So for your viewing pleasure (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hehehe&lt;/span&gt;) I invite you into our home, where our kids are FAR too excited, thrilled beyond belief and overly animated on Christmas !! You can just feel it from the pictures. They could hardly wait to rip into those presents! The anticipation was killing them! . . . *Sigh. . . . Or Maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SWlSl9RQo3I/AAAAAAAAA6k/XndmWqmDuso/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289850049378952050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SWlSl9RQo3I/AAAAAAAAA6k/XndmWqmDuso/s400/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ty seems a little disgusted that his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lifesaver&lt;/span&gt; book was not actually a book!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289850055113737634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SWlSmSoihaI/AAAAAAAAA6s/AqJZeYIk5K8/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Alex can hardly contain himself over his gift of applesauce. Who needs presents when you have your very own applesauce??&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289850066570759874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SWlSm9UGzsI/AAAAAAAAA68/raFGPjsscJs/s400/010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Keisha is so thrilled to dive into those presents that she doesn't want to make eye contact with them until it's time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289850061422200162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SWlSmqImBWI/AAAAAAAAA60/jjGdl_9vhq0/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;And then there's Jake. . . . I give up! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289853428722879218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SWlVqqToyvI/AAAAAAAAA7U/4dZsrwp6AiE/s400/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;At least &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Beaux&lt;/span&gt; seems excited with what Santa brought him!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sheesh&lt;/span&gt;!  I think I'll trade the kids in for dogs!!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289853424253624962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SWlVqZqFYoI/AAAAAAAAA7M/nbRCFDwDpgA/s400/050.JPG" border="0" /&gt;And then there's us.  No this wasn't Christmas morning in our dress up clothing but I thought I would throw in a picture of the hubby and I during Christmas.  You can clearly see that the kids got their stone cold expressions from their father.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S.  I also posted the above pic so that I have a before (fat face &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;lardo&lt;/span&gt;) picture of me.  I'm dieting you know. . . and hoping that my after picture is MUCH slimmer!  Don't hold your breath though. I've failed a few diets in my lifetime. . . or a lot. . . or almost all but who's counting? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-7193298455850272906?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7193298455850272906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=7193298455850272906&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7193298455850272906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7193298455850272906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/01/it-runs-in-family.html' title='It Runs In The Family'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SWlSl9RQo3I/AAAAAAAAA6k/XndmWqmDuso/s72-c/006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-225092936361079578</id><published>2009-01-07T22:15:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T22:33:00.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And Sometimes At Night I Explode Into Bursts Of Loud Laughter</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure why it is, but at late hours of the night (when everyone else is sleeping) I like to find funny stuff online. And then loud laughter always follows and most often to the point of tears running down my face and legs crossed tightly to prevent wetting myself. All I can say is THIS DUDE CRACKS ME UP!! (Flint Ramussen from the PBR) Be sure to watch &amp;amp; listen carefully to the Titanic part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QGSVScBNbyI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QGSVScBNbyI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And SHHHHH the family is sleeping!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-225092936361079578?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/225092936361079578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=225092936361079578&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/225092936361079578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/225092936361079578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-sometimes-at-night-i-explode-in.html' title='And Sometimes At Night I Explode Into Bursts Of Loud Laughter'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5113837448795164185</id><published>2009-01-05T12:06:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T21:28:22.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Know It's Time To Diet When....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.charlottecooper.net/imgs/fat/headless/r3739968269.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 379px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 296px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.charlottecooper.net/imgs/fat/headless/r3739968269.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;OUCH my aching rear! I am beginning to feel like I have the bus driver spread!! Seriously my fat arse is aching!!! I am also feeling like using a LOT of exclamation points!!!!! (obviously my computer feels like underlining everything I write, like it's of great importance. I wish it would STOP already!!!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH YES! It's fixed!.... Anyway, stay tuned for possible updates and pics that won't make you want to stab your eyes out. (If I accidentally gain more weight or not lose substantial weight I will NOT be posting follow up pictures.....you are welcome:) I am hoping to fit in the chair soon and quit losing my pen's and calculators and phones and.....stuff!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I am only dieting because the rest of the family is and I don't want to be the only fat, ugly kid left on the block !! I have no motivation UNTIL I could possibly be a loner and then I have to go with the crowd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5113837448795164185?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5113837448795164185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5113837448795164185&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5113837448795164185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5113837448795164185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-know-its-time-to-diet-when.html' title='You Know It&apos;s Time To Diet When....'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-9093007318027660465</id><published>2009-01-02T20:26:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T20:47:46.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Memory Of. . . .</title><content type='html'>It was a difficult holiday season for our family as we had to say goodbye to a wonderful lady.  She wasn't an ordinary lady but was our Mother, (MIL) and Grandma.  Marlene (aka &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pinky&lt;/span&gt;) passed away on December 22, 2008 after an amazingly courageous 7 year battle with Cancer.  A big hole remains in our hearts and we miss her daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7b4H4igyI/AAAAAAAAA6A/sF0uPkh3NcY/s1600-h/1-2-2009+7%3B20%3B40+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286904769814889250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 276px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7b4H4igyI/AAAAAAAAA6A/sF0uPkh3NcY/s400/1-2-2009+7%3B20%3B40+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Grandma &amp;amp; Grandpa with Baby Ty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7bjVXikhI/AAAAAAAAA54/tWD_bbx6_aQ/s1600-h/1-2-2009+7%3B20%3B53+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286904412657324562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7bjVXikhI/AAAAAAAAA54/tWD_bbx6_aQ/s400/1-2-2009+7%3B20%3B53+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Never too old to dance and enjoy it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7bjVOeOJI/AAAAAAAAA5w/X6WyBi0-S18/s1600-h/1-2-2009+7%3B20%3B49+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286904412619290770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 278px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7bjVOeOJI/AAAAAAAAA5w/X6WyBi0-S18/s400/1-2-2009+7%3B20%3B49+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Marlene sporting her sexy head wear (during Chemo treatments) with Keisha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7bjGwNf6I/AAAAAAAAA5o/UavoFEyPTUA/s1600-h/1-2-2009+7%3B20%3B35+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286904408734269346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 275px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7bjGwNf6I/AAAAAAAAA5o/UavoFEyPTUA/s400/1-2-2009+7%3B20%3B35+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Can you guess why she was nicknamed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pinky&lt;/span&gt;??  She really was sledding in snow but for some reason ended up sliding out in the grass area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7bijCPQ5I/AAAAAAAAA5g/CxNqz0wW2E8/s1600-h/1-2-2009+7%3B19%3B53+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286904399146206098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 399px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7bijCPQ5I/AAAAAAAAA5g/CxNqz0wW2E8/s400/1-2-2009+7%3B19%3B53+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Steve's family picture at our wedding.  (and NO I didn't marry a 12 year old:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7bikZyVkI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/2L3JXZKXhXA/s1600-h/1-2-2009+7%3B19%3B39+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286904399513409090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7bikZyVkI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/2L3JXZKXhXA/s400/1-2-2009+7%3B19%3B39+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Grandma with her goofy grand kids last Summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are grateful for the time we had with her and the memories that we will cherish always.  Her courage, faith and endless strength in times of great trial will never be forgotten.  We love you Mom-Grandma!!&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&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-9093007318027660465?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/9093007318027660465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=9093007318027660465&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9093007318027660465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9093007318027660465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2009/01/in-memory-of.html' title='In Memory Of. . . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SV7b4H4igyI/AAAAAAAAA6A/sF0uPkh3NcY/s72-c/1-2-2009+7%3B20%3B40+PM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4082836380168647466</id><published>2008-12-21T20:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T20:32:50.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I Take Your Order???</title><content type='html'>Welcome to Utah!  Would you like a HOT APPLE PIE to go with that BLIZZARD????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SU8JBZMWKHI/AAAAAAAAA5I/XmlvMhQlsFk/s1600-h/hotapplepie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282450807476070514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SU8JBZMWKHI/AAAAAAAAA5I/XmlvMhQlsFk/s400/hotapplepie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh you wanted one of these???????  Sorry we're fresh out! But. . . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SU8JBduyEFI/AAAAAAAAA5A/DzlfDGVDYe0/s1600-h/blizzard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282450808694247506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SU8JBduyEFI/AAAAAAAAA5A/DzlfDGVDYe0/s400/blizzard.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We do have plenty of these!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SU8JBEf3qRI/AAAAAAAAA44/wXHFP9-ePOk/s1600-h/blizzard3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282450801920813330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SU8JBEf3qRI/AAAAAAAAA44/wXHFP9-ePOk/s400/blizzard3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugghhhh!  Sick of Winter weather and we still have 3-4 more LONG months of it.  Oh JOY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-4082836380168647466?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4082836380168647466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4082836380168647466&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4082836380168647466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4082836380168647466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/12/can-i-take-your-order.html' title='Can I Take Your Order???'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SU8JBZMWKHI/AAAAAAAAA5I/XmlvMhQlsFk/s72-c/hotapplepie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-9183788639742503252</id><published>2008-12-14T19:59:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T20:17:49.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Can Just Call Me Martha</title><content type='html'>Go ahead and call me Martha. We have a LOT in common!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SUXIYxhd-rI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/0jQ7x5WWiX4/s1600-h/martha-reindeer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279846466097904306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 285px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SUXIYxhd-rI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/0jQ7x5WWiX4/s400/martha-reindeer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My halls have been decked. . . well almost! And it looks nothing like this picture below BUT I like to pretend. In reality, my ADD keeps me from spending endless hours decorating!  If you squint your eyes enough my house looks like this too!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279846472598614338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SUXIZJvW8UI/AAAAAAAAA4g/UlcHQv8AEgA/s400/christmasdecor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I do plan on getting around to wrapping my presents some day. . . hopefully before Christmas! My kids said today that our tree looks pathetic. I was shocked to hear such words after spending 3-4 hours decorating it. In reality, they were talking about UNDER the tree and it being completely bare!  Do I really have to do EVERYTHING??  Don't answer that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279846471428882914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 352px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SUXIZFYeQeI/AAAAAAAAA4o/D7ZrO8ZrZjo/s400/presents.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I have good intentions and big dreams of making my neighbors cute cookies like this. That counts for something right? I decided to try a new cookie recipe tonight. Bad idea! And all that came out of that venture was time wasted and less cooking ingredients for the next time I attempt to be creative:(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279846477131696338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 339px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 285px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SUXIZaoISNI/AAAAAAAAA4w/lq-pIBke80g/s400/christmascookies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yet to hang the last few decorations, finish the shopping, wrap a single present or cook ANYTHING yummy for Christmas. *Sigh! I guess the only thing that Martha and I have in common is that we both have an ugly red sweater. Oh wait! And we both hate the IRS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-9183788639742503252?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/9183788639742503252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=9183788639742503252&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9183788639742503252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9183788639742503252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-can-just-call-me-martha.html' title='You Can Just Call Me Martha'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SUXIYxhd-rI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/0jQ7x5WWiX4/s72-c/martha-reindeer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-7898655159025778595</id><published>2008-12-07T16:18:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T16:46:06.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Case Of A Fire.......</title><content type='html'>Don't expect this to alert you to it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STxa27_TsYI/AAAAAAAAA4I/wTEQs7Pyfbg/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277192763234038146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STxa27_TsYI/AAAAAAAAA4I/wTEQs7Pyfbg/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The other IMPORTANT half to the smoke detector is. . . Well, it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;went&lt;/span&gt; like this. A few nights ago I was up late with a congested head and as hard as I tried to go to sleep I could not. Finally about about 2 a.m. I drifted off to sleep. It wasn't 20 minutes later that I awoke to a chirping sound from the hall. Of course it was a familiar sound! I thought "Why is it that EVERY time a smoke detector's batteries go dead it's in the middle of the freaking night?" Is it just me or does this happen in every household? Is there a smoke detector conspiracy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I climbed out of bed. Fortunately for the rest of the family they are dead head sleepers and didn't stir at the noise. For me it was unbearable! I knew that there wasn't a 9 volt battery anywhere in the house to replace it with and so I pulled up a chair to reach it and dismantle it. Well the dismantling part isn't difficult and I quickly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;disconnected&lt;/span&gt; the electrical wires from it. It continued to chirp. I opened the battery box and removed the battery. It continued to chirp. I checked all over to see if there was an OFF button. . . nope! What in the world is supposed to stop these things from working??? Frustrated by now, I went in to my husband, who was snoring like usual and woke him. "How do I get this thing to stop?" I asked. His brilliant response was "I don't know" and he rolled over and went right back to sleep. I was holding that beast and it was still chirping. How was I ever going to get any sleep with this thing? I finally came up with a plan and I walked to the front door, unlocked it and chucked that smoke detector as far as I could throw it right out on the lawn! It was back to bed for me and right to sleep this time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had forgot about the night's events as I got ready for work the next day. It wasn't until I opened the door and discovered something foreign out on the grass. OH YES! There was that detector and it had finally quieted down. At this point I was able to get a big laugh out of it! What possessed me to throw it outside? I have decided that those smoke detectors are of the devil and I am opting for a better piece of equipment to inform us of a fire. No batteries required!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277192762398888178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STxa244MUPI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/z3-8MDVmIzg/s400/Redneck-Smoke-Detector-1289.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And the cool part is that if you really do have a fire, you can sit outside and eat popcorn while the fire department battles the blaze! BONUS!!&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/9101569426455006440-7898655159025778595?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7898655159025778595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=7898655159025778595&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7898655159025778595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7898655159025778595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/12/in-case-of-fire.html' title='In Case Of A Fire.......'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STxa27_TsYI/AAAAAAAAA4I/wTEQs7Pyfbg/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-695896990484357055</id><published>2008-11-30T19:07:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T19:54:58.553-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='What a feelin&apos;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='80&apos;s rock'/><title type='text'>Ahhh Sweet Memories!</title><content type='html'>So tonight as I was working on Indexing Massachusetts death records from 1912 (something I do for our church), I thought about what it might have been like to have lived back then. Of course thinking about way back then also caused my mind to go &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;waaaaaaaaaay&lt;/span&gt; back to the 80s. No, not the 1880s either but the AWESOME 1980s of which I can happily say I was a part of! What a really fun time of life! I was all cool and stuff!! (In my own mind anyway so stop laughing!) Here are some 80s memories that made me so cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STNL2ThwB3I/AAAAAAAAAro/DZq94rLyNh8/s1600-h/journey_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274642984907835250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 295px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 295px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STNL2ThwB3I/AAAAAAAAAro/DZq94rLyNh8/s400/journey_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; JOURNEY!! Who doesn't love Journey?. . .OK, shut up! They were/Are cool! I fell in love with Journey because my first boyfriend loved journey. Isn't that reason enough? Let's just say I still have Journey (tapes) around but I can't say the same for my first boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STNL2TpAMdI/AAAAAAAAArg/4g_drk2azQg/s1600-h/izod.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274642984938254802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 107px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 92px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STNL2TpAMdI/AAAAAAAAArg/4g_drk2azQg/s400/izod.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I like totally didn't want to be lame or like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hoser&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;spaz&lt;/span&gt; out and stuff! Only dweebs and dipsticks that thought they were too cool for Izod could barf me out! Hey! Check out how many 80s slang words I used in those two sentences!! I still find myself spitting out one of those words every once and a while. Oh the looks I get! I will never forget my sexy pink Izod shirt that was a staple in my wardrobe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STNL2HZBrII/AAAAAAAAArY/SPglNaQvKJc/s1600-h/footlooseleggies1a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274642981650017410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 194px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STNL2HZBrII/AAAAAAAAArY/SPglNaQvKJc/s400/footlooseleggies1a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A really large chunk of my day was spent in my many layers of leg warmers and exercise wear. I was addicted to dance and unfortunately, everyone else had to suffer through my "Flash Dance" era. I was hot!. . . and sweaty and sometimes stinky too:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STNHPmbDunI/AAAAAAAAArQ/sC2yNgHTwoU/s1600-h/greenvolkswagonbug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274637921918630514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 113px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STNHPmbDunI/AAAAAAAAArQ/sC2yNgHTwoU/s400/greenvolkswagonbug.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And last but certainly NOT least of my 80's memories (I will spare you the 9 million others for right now:) is my very first car! Yes it was an amazing green &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Volkswagen&lt;/span&gt; Bug! I think it was from the late 1960s and boy was that evident. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing that can come between me and my first car but there are some memories with that baby that I'm glad are distant memories. Winter was always a real treat! Those cars were obviously NOT made for cold weather and I would spend my drives scraping my windows on the inside from the frost that would form as I drove. Also, if you have ever been in one of these sweet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hotties&lt;/span&gt; you will know that the heater is under the seat. YES your feet get warm, then toasty and then BURNING HOT and you can barely keep your feet on the pedals to drive!! In the meantime, the top portion of the car is freezing and thus causing the routine of scraping the window with one hand and driving with the other. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ahhhh&lt;/span&gt; sweet memories! Gotta love em!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-695896990484357055?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/695896990484357055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=695896990484357055&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/695896990484357055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/695896990484357055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/11/ahhh-sweet-memories.html' title='Ahhh Sweet Memories!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/STNL2ThwB3I/AAAAAAAAAro/DZq94rLyNh8/s72-c/journey_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2270754365513252368</id><published>2008-11-23T17:18:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T17:39:52.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahhhh Thanksgiving!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SSn3h6wmS1I/AAAAAAAAArI/ThQ4DtMN7nM/s1600-h/thanksgiving.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272017000894712658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SSn3h6wmS1I/AAAAAAAAArI/ThQ4DtMN7nM/s400/thanksgiving.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I love Thanksgiving&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; The talk of all the food we will be baking this week and then consuming in one very big meal, on one very festive day, is causing me to gain weight at just the thought! I seriously need to diet just to prepare for the over consumption! It wasn't until recently that I would actually eat Turkey after many years on hiatus. The rest of the food wasn't safe from my trap though! But that story is for another day. . . maybe tomorrow! &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So for your Pre-Thanksgiving pleasure, I bring you the obvious signs that you OVERDID it on Thanksgiving&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* You spilled more food on you than the local soup kitchen dispenses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Paramedics bring in the Jaws of Life to pry you out of the EZ-Boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Your after dinner moans are loud enough to signal Dr. Kevorkian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The "Gravy Boat" your wife set out was a real 14' boat!The potatoes you used set off another famine in Ireland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* You get grass stains on your butt after a walk, but never sat down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Your "Big Elvis Super-Belt" won't even go around your waist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* You receive a Sumo Wrestler application in your e-mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* You set off 3 earthquake seismographs on your morning jog Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Pricking your finger for cholesterol screening only yielded gravy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* You have 5 TV sets side-by-side to catch all the football games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* A guest quotes a Biblical passage from "The Feeding of the 5000."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* That rash on your stomach turns out to be steering wheel burn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Your spouse wears a life jacket at night in your water bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Representatives from the Butterball Hall of Fame called twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* You consider gluttony as your patriotic duty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* It looks like the left-overs are going last until Christmas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-2270754365513252368?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2270754365513252368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2270754365513252368&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2270754365513252368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2270754365513252368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/11/ahhhh-thanksgiving.html' title='Ahhhh Thanksgiving!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SSn3h6wmS1I/AAAAAAAAArI/ThQ4DtMN7nM/s72-c/thanksgiving.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-7326527085334087126</id><published>2008-11-13T20:12:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T07:09:41.170-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ahh fond memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='It&apos;s all fun and games'/><title type='text'>You Don't Have To Be A Kid. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You don't have to be a kid to look forward to and enjoy a trip to Disneyland&lt;/span&gt;. Some things just never change and I am so looking forward to going to with a group of adults from work on Monday. We can act like CHILDREN!! Woo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Whoo&lt;/span&gt;!! (I always love a good excuse to act my shoe size:) Hotel beds are never safe when I'm around &amp;amp; have no kids with me!...Oh come on people! I'm talking about jumping on them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268346117980889138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRzs4aQPIDI/AAAAAAAAAq4/ZeD9t1wzaIs/s400/disneyland.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned (the hard way) that some things are much more enjoyable (and don't forget easier) when you are a kid. Take for example the hula hoop. Did you try this as a child? I did and I had that baby mastered. I could spend hours with that hoop circling around my waist. I was so cool that I could do tricks. You know, those amazing ones where you can make it go up your neck and circle around your hand that is raised above your head. And then back down again. And then down your legs to your ankles. I know, it's hard to believe the talent that oozed out of me but I did it. It was many years later and I was married with children (hey, that is kind of catchy like it should be a sitcom or something:) that I decided to show off my great skills in front of a group. I grabbed the hula hoop from a snot nosed kid trying to be all tricky and stuff and I stepped inside. What the????? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have OBVIOUSLY started making these things smaller because DANG there wasn't much room for that baby to circle around me! I worked that stupid hoop for a good 10 minutes before I decided that my body mass was taking up to much of the circle, thus making it virtually impossible to keep it moving. Sigh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRzs4lyf1II/AAAAAAAAArA/e1E6-re2h8I/s1600-h/hulahoop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268346121077380226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRzs4lyf1II/AAAAAAAAArA/e1E6-re2h8I/s400/hulahoop.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I child, I was very limber. I could do a back bend without a second thought. It all just came natural and I spent many days tumbling around. I took gymnastics for a while. The memory that has stuck with me to this day was when we were lined up and being assisted in back bends by our instructor. The girl in front of me hadn't mastered a back bend before so the instructor was supporting her. As the girl arched her back, she let out a grunt noise and then farted! OH, boy! The things that will crack up a five year old!! We were unable to do much after that due to laughter (and pointing and mocking).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRzs4fjR6uI/AAAAAAAAAqw/-2gkb_yLQ8A/s1600-h/backbend.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268346119402941154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRzs4fjR6uI/AAAAAAAAAqw/-2gkb_yLQ8A/s400/backbend.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I also didn't have a problem as a child doing cart wheels. It was like walking! I would cart wheel my way across the lawn. I could run fast and go right into a cart wheel. I was so tricky I could even do it ONE handed! WOW I was cool. Fast forward about 20+ years and a few kids (and many pounds gained). I wanted to show my kids that I their awesome and amazing mother could still do all those tricks. Oh yeah! No mocking this chick! She still has it. . . . or not. As they scooped me off the ground, because my poor arms collapsed from the large amount of weight trying to pass over them, I realized THIS was not going to be so easy! Not only were my scrawny arms trying to hold up some serious weight, all of the sudden it seemed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; scary!! I was MUCH farther off the ground than I was so long ago. Sigh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRzs4Lf6ldI/AAAAAAAAAqo/QbG_ps_NiO8/s1600-h/cartwheel.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268346114020120018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRzs4Lf6ldI/AAAAAAAAAqo/QbG_ps_NiO8/s400/cartwheel.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there were those days when I could bend myself in half.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRzs4LLH7qI/AAAAAAAAAqg/BV0IRU8occY/s1600-h/flexible.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268346113932914338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRzs4LLH7qI/AAAAAAAAAqg/BV0IRU8occY/s400/flexible.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh not like that picture!!  I was talking about bending over to pick something off the floor. . . . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;fortunately I can still do that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-7326527085334087126?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7326527085334087126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=7326527085334087126&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7326527085334087126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7326527085334087126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/11/you-dont-have-to-be-kid-but-sometimes.html' title='You Don&apos;t Have To Be A Kid. . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRzs4aQPIDI/AAAAAAAAAq4/ZeD9t1wzaIs/s72-c/disneyland.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2271060559542337669</id><published>2008-11-10T18:23:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T18:39:17.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been One Of Those.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sure would like to be/feel like her.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRjfDNK8r7I/AAAAAAAAAqI/7Tyc2EPQhwo/s1600-h/june_cleaver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267205010377977778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 245px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRjfDNK8r7I/AAAAAAAAAqI/7Tyc2EPQhwo/s400/june_cleaver.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Unfortunately, I feel a LOT more like her.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267205007324711954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRjfDBy_jBI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/qsqyzNIWM6o/s400/stressedmom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm thinking it's time to resort to this.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267205015222722978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 330px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRjfDfOBoaI/AAAAAAAAAqY/AQJKN9t_NvA/s400/stressed.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I blame it on the husband and kids.  I think they have all plotted against me to see at what point Mom's head will actually start spinning and then she will magically and colorfully explode.  So far the build up to this great spectacular event has not been pretty.  I keep hoping they will give up on their plan and go back to being helpful and nice.  So far no luck.  I will keep you posted. That is unless I reach the point of explosion and then there will be Diana parts &amp;amp; particles in my computer keyboard making it virtually impossible to type.  Ewwwww! Yucky!&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/9101569426455006440-2271060559542337669?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2271060559542337669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2271060559542337669&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2271060559542337669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2271060559542337669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-been-one-of-those.html' title='It&apos;s Been One Of Those.'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SRjfDNK8r7I/AAAAAAAAAqI/7Tyc2EPQhwo/s72-c/june_cleaver.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-787709493644644001</id><published>2008-11-03T21:24:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T21:36:54.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Know It's Time To Diet When. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;You've polished off all the left over Halloween candy (plus your kids collection) and it's only a few days after. . . and you are looking for more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are heading into the real weight gaining holidays and you are already squeezing into your "Big" size in your closet. (Oh come on! Don't we all have more than one size of clothing in our closets?  I have three different sizes and would be completely happy if I was in the smallest size. . . just doesn't seem to be the case:(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You get winded, sweaty and tired from stamping an angel on some tags. (which only requires the movement of your hand) And people laugh at you and mock you because you are worn out.  For real!  I actually got tired and was sweating it up!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your fat hurts.  (which means my whole body aches right now:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you look at your Summer pictures and they look something like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264655029817441586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 333px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SQ_P2zU9_TI/AAAAAAAAAqA/e7rN95oWuQk/s400/just-cant-blend-in.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And NO you are not one of the four girls on the right! Time to put down that Ding Dong and get on those running shoes for me!  I'll catch you later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-787709493644644001?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/787709493644644001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=787709493644644001&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/787709493644644001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/787709493644644001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/11/you-know-its-time-to-diet-when.html' title='You Know It&apos;s Time To Diet When. . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SQ_P2zU9_TI/AAAAAAAAAqA/e7rN95oWuQk/s72-c/just-cant-blend-in.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2399360744049965970</id><published>2008-10-27T18:22:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T18:55:57.025-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happenings &amp; Random Stuff</title><content type='html'>What can I say? It's been another fun filled week in my life. OK, I'm being completely sarcastic and for the most part it was a pretty boring and lame week. There were a few hi-lights and so I will share. I'm good at sharing! Don't want to hog this all to myself! Plus you need to know that my life is not completely stale and mundane. (Humor me even if you still think it is. I get excited over the small stuff in life!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband Bob (not even close to his real name) had a sleep clinic come to the house and administer a test for possible sleep apnea. They used a finger &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;oximeter&lt;/span&gt; to check his oxygen levels through the night. It has been a couple of weeks since this test was administered and so I've thought nothing of the results being positive. The other day my husband calls me in what sounded like a panic and when I asked him what was going on he replied that he had just got a call from the sleep center and they wanted to see him in their office. He then asked me"What do you think is wrong?". . . I sat for a moment in silence wondering if he was for real or what? And then I responded "I think they want to tell you that you have sleep apnea honey. . . I don't think that reading your oxygen levels at night can determine that you have cancer or M.S." That was the end of that conversation. I handled that well didn't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night my hubby and I went to my cousin &lt;a href="http://nicolehill.blogspot.com/"&gt;A Little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sussy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;'s wedding dinner. It was a really fun night with great food, great entertainment, great company and beautiful surroundings. She of course was stunning and I'm sure that she will share pictures (who am I kidding? She is a photographer and WILL share. . I think) with everyone once she returns from her honeymoon to Hawaii. (BRAT! No, I'm not jealous. . . I think I need a vacation. Even to my neighboring town would do:) . . . OH but wait!! Read on!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then today at work we felt like we had won the Superbowl!! We got an email that we are all going to Disneyland!! NO kidding. Uh huh, I work for the coolest place ever! We not only surpassed a company goal last night but we pretty much blew right past it. (and remember I just started this job like 6 weeks ago! Was that good timing or what?) So in return, the CEO is sending the entire company to the place where dreams come true. Which kind of scares me because I have some pretty crazy dreams! Anyway, this is one of those things that you try NOT to come home after finding out and rub in too much. Kids just don't like it when they know that Mama's going to DISNEYLAND and they aren't!! Oh well, I'll bring them back a a sweet prize:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261998979191190242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SQZgMTsosuI/AAAAAAAAAp4/AVBqKXDnVxU/s400/disneyland.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have a great week!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-2399360744049965970?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2399360744049965970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2399360744049965970&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2399360744049965970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2399360744049965970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/10/happenings-random-stuff.html' title='Happenings &amp; Random Stuff'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SQZgMTsosuI/AAAAAAAAAp4/AVBqKXDnVxU/s72-c/disneyland.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2311284050370951607</id><published>2008-10-21T18:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T18:41:22.231-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;ve officially lost it'/><title type='text'>Have You Ever?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Have you ever&lt;/span&gt; had a restless sleep that progressed to the point of WIDE awake by 2 a.m. and so you lay there and contemplate life. And while you are contemplating, you think about some really funny stuff and you giggle a bit (sometimes loudly) and decide that you have GOT to blog about such funny topics. You think to yourself "Self, I should write these things down so that I don't forget them by morning" and then your evil/stupid/forgetful side convinces you that you will NEVER forget such funny stuff by morning. Except you wake up the next morning with only the thought that you should blog about some funny stuff and you can't remember what? . . . . No you haven't? Me neither.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Have you ever&lt;/span&gt; spent an hour in the evening trying to console your screaming six year old because an airplane has flown over the house several times and quite low and he is freaking in hysterics because he thinks it will crash on top of you. Then an hour later, you are trying to quiet the same child, who is giggling wildly because he has farted loudly and scared the poor dog, who WAS lying next to him. And for some reason the six year old was finding this extremely funny and would have continual outbursts for about an hour or so, while you threatened him to stop?. . . . Nada? Me neither&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Have you ever&lt;/span&gt; spent your evening (when not consoling/threatening a child or thinking of funny blog topics) picking zits, pulling out grey hairs and having a hot flash all at the same time? Which you find to be quite annoying because seriously should these two things overlap each other for real or are you just some freak of nature going through puberty and the "the change" all at once?. . . Nope? Same here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I guess we're even then!  Have a nice day!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-2311284050370951607?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2311284050370951607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2311284050370951607&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2311284050370951607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2311284050370951607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/10/have-you-ever.html' title='Have You Ever?'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6414784249093346891</id><published>2008-10-16T19:47:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T21:05:07.520-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='It&apos;s cold and it sucks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthdays'/><title type='text'>Someone Had A Birthday Shout Hurray!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Check out this cute dog!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He just celebrated his first birthday today&lt;/span&gt;. NO we didn't have a party and the celebration was kept to a minimum. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Momma's&lt;/span&gt; got a headache!&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah, I went to the doctor this week completely healthy and of course caught some bug WHILE THERE (I know, it's so rare to hear such stuff:) It's been cold this week and not only have I struggled to be nice in cold weather, my vehicle decided it isn't going to be nice either. It sounds like it's dying and my automatic window on the driver's side just isn't going down anymore. OH, I could keep going but I will spare you!! (you're welcome) But I've got myself a full blown headache now. I really think you CAN catch a cold from the cold! Do you mind keeping the wild birthday celebrating down please??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SPfwo3KytJI/AAAAAAAAApg/HQ-EnLebtTQ/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257935674772993170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SPfwo3KytJI/AAAAAAAAApg/HQ-EnLebtTQ/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is my cute baby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Beaux&lt;/span&gt; the day after Christmas, when we were surprised to get him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SPfwpCY_j2I/AAAAAAAAApo/nIJv2ZsfOxo/s1600-h/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257935677785345890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SPfwpCY_j2I/AAAAAAAAApo/nIJv2ZsfOxo/s400/020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He is one smart pup getting a nice nap on the warmth of my laptop. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SPfwpQ4SkdI/AAAAAAAAApw/76hNvBxq5Lc/s1600-h/085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257935681674711506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SPfwpQ4SkdI/AAAAAAAAApw/76hNvBxq5Lc/s400/085.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; When he's not on my laptop, he likes to cuddle on my quilts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And Happy Birthday to Beaux's sister Bella (Angel's dog) and &lt;strong&gt;ESPECIALLY Happy Birthday&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SIL&lt;/span&gt; Amber!&lt;/strong&gt; How is it to be 20?. . . again? (I hope it was OK that I just announced&lt;br /&gt;your birthday and all:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-6414784249093346891?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6414784249093346891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6414784249093346891&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6414784249093346891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6414784249093346891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/10/someone-had-birthday-shout-hurray.html' title='Someone Had A Birthday Shout Hurray!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SPfwo3KytJI/AAAAAAAAApg/HQ-EnLebtTQ/s72-c/008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-3462867606579983650</id><published>2008-10-12T17:33:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T17:58:26.541-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;m in the slammer again'/><title type='text'>Because It's The Law That's Why!</title><content type='html'>Where in the world have I been my whole existence in Utah? Obviously I've been completely oblivious to many of the laws here. It's just a good thing that I found out sooner than later or I might have found myself locked up in the slammer!! Here are some of the Utah laws that I just ran onto and boy am I glad I did!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is against the law to fish from horseback.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(I'm not getting the problem there)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is illegal not to drink milk.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(I think I may have a child who breaks the law daily)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is illegal to detonate any nuclear weapon.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(note to self- don't detonate that nuclear weapon on your "to do" list)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Birds have the right of way on all highways.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(I have broke this law and have the proof on my Van's grill to prove it. . . don't tell!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A husband is responsible for every criminal act committed by his wife while she is in his presence.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Oh, the trouble I could get that man in!. . ."Honey, can you come to the bank with me?")&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You’re not allowed to sell beverages containing more than 3.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;(more than 3 what? That is one vague law)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is a felony to persistently tread on the cracks between paving stones on the sidewalk of a state highway.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;(And if one does do they break their mother's back?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It’s legal for restaurants to serve wine with meals, but only if you ask for the wine list.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(it should be illegal to sell whine with your meal. Now THAT bugs me)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is considered an offense to hunt whales.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(WHEW! I am so glad I found that out! I was headed to the lake to whale hunt tomorrow!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No one may have sex in the back of an ambulance if it is responding to an emergency call.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;(Oh, please! Did they really have to make that a law because it was a frequent practice?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alcohol may not be sold during an emergency.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;(We would hate for anyone to be intoxicated and therefore NOT traumatized by the emergency)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Individuals may not possess beer in containers larger than two liters unless they are a retailer.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;(So I'm taking it those high school "Keggers" weren't legal-and NO I didn't ever attend them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Boxing matches that allow biting are not allowed.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;(Awww! they like to take out all the fun stuff)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is illegal to cause a catastrophe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Well DUH!)&lt;br /&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/9101569426455006440-3462867606579983650?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3462867606579983650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=3462867606579983650&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3462867606579983650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3462867606579983650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/10/because-its-law-thats-why.html' title='Because It&apos;s The Law That&apos;s Why!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4282501590282066494</id><published>2008-10-07T18:38:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T20:14:11.548-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='On My Journey To Stardom'/><title type='text'>Reason 87 Why My REAL Job Is Behind A Desk</title><content type='html'>So today was another day of shooting for a company marketing video. After many hours of bloopers and wonderful out-takes (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Gads!), I found myself getting delirious. And while shooting, I was supposed to end a sentence with "success with our graduates". Unfortunately, it didn't come out that way and I ruined a pretty good take when I said "Sex with our graduates".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it only took about 30 minutes for me to regain my composure and get over the fear of saying "Sex" again. I did try to convince the media team that maybe we should have a second marketing video using that soon to be deleted scene. We may just entice a group to buy that we wouldn't have otherwise . I don't think they found it humorous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-4282501590282066494?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4282501590282066494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4282501590282066494&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4282501590282066494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4282501590282066494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/10/reason-87-why-my-real-job-is-behind.html' title='Reason 87 Why My REAL Job Is Behind A Desk'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-3894337814875726595</id><published>2008-10-05T12:38:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T13:18:42.602-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Where am I and who are these kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Claim to Fame'/><title type='text'>And it's Three, Two, One. . . Your On!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SOkQc3D9zNI/AAAAAAAAApY/qB1oKyQimZU/s1600-h/kids"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253748528307358930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SOkQc3D9zNI/AAAAAAAAApY/qB1oKyQimZU/s400/kids" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here are my two oldest, Jake &amp;amp; Keisha, proving that they shouldn't be in front of a camera!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been a couple of LONG years since Keisha somehow got to be an extra in a movie that was being made in the area. She spent her Saturday thinking she was all cool sitting in the bleachers at a park and doing what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;extras&lt;/span&gt; do. . . which is basically nothing. This was great money for her. She does NOTHING really well and so to get paid 45 bucks for it was "freaking awesome!" Fast forward to now and the long awaited movie was finally released. She could hardly wait to see it=her. This was her big chance! We decided to go as a family on Monday night. Let's just say the rest of the family must not have been to excited to see it because our "family night" ended up being me and Keisha. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253742751177098482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SOkLMlkxxPI/AAAAAAAAApA/zQBwIkbK0j8/s400/foreverstrong.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It turned out to be quite a good movie. Well at least I thought so. The reviews didn't reflect my feelings. I think they may have called it "Forever Wrong" and "Forever Long" . Unfortunately, Keisha was sadly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt; to find out that she was no where to be seen in the entire movie. That's the tough reality of being one of the hundred extras there!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In other good news for the week, I was excited to see that my favorite dude on America's Got Talent won! Go Neal!! No, I don't watch the show faithfully and find most of it completely annoying. BUT I saw Neal on a commercial early on and thought he was awesome and humble and everything good. So even if the show pretty much gets on my nerves, at least America picked the best person to win it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253742752151303042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SOkLMpNC84I/AAAAAAAAApI/qJL1Ew9zdPc/s400/americasgottalent.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then there is work.Well that is still hogging up most of my time (and thus my reason for random blogging). But I do like it! I can say the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;highlights&lt;/span&gt; of the week were being called Sarah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt; by some attorneys that I walked to the conference room. (The CEO came in after the meeting and told me they had mentioned I looked like Sarah). Can I just say "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Whaaaaaaat&lt;/span&gt;?" I just don't see it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253742752285625474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SOkLMptEjII/AAAAAAAAApQ/ymxMh7x2lkw/s400/sarahpalin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And FINALLY, I am hoping some day I know what I want to be when I grow up. I went from florist, to accountant, to now college enrollment counselor and then this week I was asked to be the spokeswoman in a company video. We have started shooting and will continue this week. And I have to say I actually enjoy it! It was more work than I had ever realized to be in front of or behind a camera. We all worked until we could hardly function but it was great! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Stay tuned for when I become famous and you are all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;clamoring&lt;/span&gt; to get my autograph!. . . . Alright don't hold your breath for that one but just pretend and all OK?  Maybe stay tuned for when I decide to dress in brown, drive my brown vehicle and bring you presents!  That sounds SWEET!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-3894337814875726595?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3894337814875726595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=3894337814875726595&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3894337814875726595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3894337814875726595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-its-three-two-one-your-on.html' title='And it&apos;s Three, Two, One. . . Your On!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SOkQc3D9zNI/AAAAAAAAApY/qB1oKyQimZU/s72-c/kids' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-1995976507722641116</id><published>2008-09-28T20:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T20:30:52.227-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Week/Short Weekend</title><content type='html'>So have you ever had one of those weeks that didn't ever end?. . nah? Well then have you ever had days that seemed REALLY long?. . . You don't recall? Then I'm sure you've had weekends that go by in a blink? Not really? Well I have. . . and did and do! Work is going really well as I adapt to it all and finally feel like I have a grasp on it. This weekend was full of Birthday celebrations (My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;MIL's&lt;/span&gt; and nephews) and another Homecoming dance but this time for my oldest child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Jake with his date/girlfriend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Chantelle&lt;/span&gt;. I swear to you (actually I'll spare you the swearing part) I could NOT get the boy to stand still for a normal pose. Can't anyone be serious in this house? They certainly don't get their clowning around from me! I'm serious people!! Poor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Chantelle&lt;/span&gt; didn't know what to do as Jake went from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;JCPenney&lt;/span&gt; model to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;GQ&lt;/span&gt; model to whatever popped into his ADD mind at the time. (He really doesn't have ADD but he sure seemed like it that night!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251261192273300450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SOA6O2Q-i-I/AAAAAAAAAoo/AAAcCJ7FtyU/s400/065.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251261198479767026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SOA6PNYttfI/AAAAAAAAAow/SCjXmtJO_ck/s400/066.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251261203012469538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SOA6PeRZQyI/AAAAAAAAAo4/jp-8k1uW2j0/s400/069.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No misadventures to tell you about from the past week!! Let's hope for another one just like it this week. (except speedier weekdays). Have a great one!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-1995976507722641116?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1995976507722641116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=1995976507722641116&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/1995976507722641116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/1995976507722641116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/09/long-weekshort-weekend.html' title='Long Week/Short Weekend'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SOA6O2Q-i-I/AAAAAAAAAoo/AAAcCJ7FtyU/s72-c/065.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2853235634430911848</id><published>2008-09-21T18:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T18:40:43.149-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It Went Something Like This</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;It's been another crazy week of trying to learn something completely new at my old age and so here are the things I can STILL remember from this week.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Most of the girls in my department had dates this weekend and were "so excited!!" My&lt;br /&gt;plans for the weekend hardly compared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* If you reward yourself with food for enduring well your new job, you will gain weight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Eating bran for every breakfast and then a 7 layer Burrito from Taco Bell every day for lunch&lt;br /&gt;will eventually be a moving experience!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Seeing your son's Christmas list ALREADY does NOT make for a short and exciting last&lt;br /&gt;quarter of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Licking your shoes after your boss sprayed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Champagne&lt;/span&gt; in celebration, may just get you a&lt;br /&gt;bit silly. (OK, I didn't really lick my shoes but they were sprayed and I threatened them that&lt;br /&gt;I would! And YES I was already silly before the threat and they were glad to not only see my&lt;br /&gt;day come to and end but also that it was Friday and they would have a long break from me!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Acting like a 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; year old and being 40&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;, still doesn't change your wrinkles or your sagging. BUT it does make you cool and hip and so the girls tell you about their dates and such. Yo Boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Falling off a ladder (about 5 ft up) with bare feet and on cement really hurts. Maybe not but&lt;br /&gt;for an old person it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Flinging your head really hard to attempt to catch the flying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Cheeto&lt;/span&gt; your daughter has so nicely launched your direction will give you some form of whiplash. And it hurts!  (But it did make my daughter laugh and that's all that matters right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There may or may not have been other happenings but at this point, I can't remember. That may be a good thing. Stay tuned for other exciting news like 2 days worth of orientations and how to tick off college administrators. Should be a riot!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-2853235634430911848?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2853235634430911848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2853235634430911848&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2853235634430911848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2853235634430911848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/09/it-went-something-like-this.html' title='It Went Something Like This'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-3042806862104753572</id><published>2008-09-17T18:42:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T18:58:17.317-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teen torture time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Where am I and who are these kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alzheimers at 40ish'/><title type='text'>It's Official.  I'm Brain Dead!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Have you ever started a new job and felt like you were a complete idiot that couldn't remember anything?. . . No? OK, so then have you ever gone to work and you were like twice the age of most employees in your department?. . .  Not? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ummm&lt;/span&gt;, then have you wondered if you were brain dead because when you get home from work you sit there in a stupor and the only thing that comes out of your mouth is "Duh!"?. . . . You haven't? I guess it's just me and I'm officially brain dead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So because I can't form a complete and rational sentence or think of anything fun or creative in my life to write about (well, there is nothing fun or creative in my life anyway) I am giving you some pics of my one and only daughter Kitty, who wants to formally come out of the closet (no not that closet, the one without a rainbow on it) and declare to the blog world that her name is really Keisha. She made me do it. Keisha was getting sick of people she knows calling her Kitty after reading my blog. So here is Keisha with her date Alex (on the left) and cousin Jase (on the right of course) and they are so fashionably dressed for the Homecoming dance. Aren't they just adorable? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247157761298921570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SNGmLuqn-GI/AAAAAAAAAoA/GKowMOv_Kyc/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247157763083278642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SNGmL1UDGTI/AAAAAAAAAoI/RwYS85V0Lj0/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Oh, and don't get too excited.  Keisha wasn't really fortunate enough to be escorted to the dance by two dashing guys.  They had yet to pick up the other date when I pulled out the camera for some photo moments.  Ah the joys of being a mother and torturing your teens!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-3042806862104753572?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3042806862104753572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=3042806862104753572&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3042806862104753572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3042806862104753572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-official-im-brain-dead.html' title='It&apos;s Official.  I&apos;m Brain Dead!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SNGmLuqn-GI/AAAAAAAAAoA/GKowMOv_Kyc/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-3018358397915441362</id><published>2008-09-11T19:23:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T19:29:42.612-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='what is that in your back'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='who needs money'/><title type='text'>So I a got a new job.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SMnE5SBh6MI/AAAAAAAAAn4/YQ2rBNTLUy8/s1600-h/jobnotice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244939729419495618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SMnE5SBh6MI/AAAAAAAAAn4/YQ2rBNTLUy8/s400/jobnotice.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah so I started a new job this week. I have been wondering why everyone in my office is&lt;br /&gt;stick skinny. Now I know! Looks like I may be in for a REAL treat. . . or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-3018358397915441362?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3018358397915441362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=3018358397915441362&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3018358397915441362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3018358397915441362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/09/so-i-got-new-job.html' title='So I a got a new job.'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SMnE5SBh6MI/AAAAAAAAAn4/YQ2rBNTLUy8/s72-c/jobnotice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-3879461055102028630</id><published>2008-09-07T17:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T17:51:27.854-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>It's All Fun And Games. . . .</title><content type='html'>Until somebody forgets to wear their parachute while jumping out of a plane!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SMRkWvoF6nI/AAAAAAAAAno/oEa7hVt-EYk/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243426208070625906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SMRkWvoF6nI/AAAAAAAAAno/oEa7hVt-EYk/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SMRkW_cUd3I/AAAAAAAAAnw/MIArwC4A5JU/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243426212316215154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SMRkW_cUd3I/AAAAAAAAAnw/MIArwC4A5JU/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm telling you it was just the other day that I was laughing over &lt;a href="http://managermom.blogspot.com/2008/08/at-least-i-know-what-she-wanted-to-buy.html"&gt;Manager Mom's &lt;/a&gt;seven year old daughter's lists and then I come home to this.  My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kindee&lt;/span&gt; boy Ty-Ty met me at the door all smiles and waving this picture about with his hand.  I was actually impressed to see identifiable objects on the paper because he has been creating a lot of things that I haven't been able to make out.  It's an uncomfortable situation when he presents me with one of his drawings and asks me what it is.  I give my five best guesses before he gets bugged and tells me what it is that I'm not seeing and follows it with a "Duh!" like I'm a complete idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this picture was different.  Obviously it was a plane and obviously somebody had jumped, or was falling.  I was a bit horrified to hear the details of his handy work when he offered them to me.  Apparently it was his older brother Al-Pal, who dreams of becoming a pilot someday. (although I find that perplexing in itself because he has the worst case of anxiety with most everything!) Al-Pal was taking a nice plane ride and then decided to jump out.  Unfortunately, he forgot to put on his parachute and he fell to his death.  When Ty-Ty relayed that story to me, he followed it with a few giggles and I gasped!  I'm not sure what to make of that all or if I should be concerned with his picture and story but I do have reason to wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when Ty was about three years old and he would ask his dad to "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Twow&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mommie&lt;/span&gt; down &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;staiws&lt;/span&gt;" (throw &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;mommie&lt;/span&gt; down the stairs-for those who don't speak toddler) and when I would ask him why he would reply" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;betaus&lt;/span&gt; I wanna see hew &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;twy&lt;/span&gt;". (I wanna see her cry).&lt;br /&gt;I think I should be worried!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-3879461055102028630?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3879461055102028630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=3879461055102028630&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3879461055102028630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3879461055102028630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-all-fun-and-games.html' title='It&apos;s All Fun And Games. . . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SMRkWvoF6nI/AAAAAAAAAno/oEa7hVt-EYk/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-9209499258505548442</id><published>2008-09-02T15:54:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T16:32:55.134-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ahh fond memories'/><title type='text'>There was this one Summer. . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;when I actually did get pulled around by a policeman with my skirt up as I tried to cool off. I know it sounds a bit crazy but here is the real story. (for those of you who picked this as my lie below)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was the Summer after my senior year in high school and I was spending most Saturdays in every city parade. It was part of our responsibility of being royalty to adorn the float with our royalness and in all our glory. Now when you live in Podunk city USA your float is not self driven. In fact, you are lucky to be riding on anything at all. Our float was mostly a platform with a little bit of decoration and the three of us "royal" girls stuck out like. . like. . girls with crowns in formals on a minimally decorated platform. The really cool part was that we were not pulled down the parade route by some fancy shmancy truck, from the lot of the local dealer. We were lucky enough to have one of the two (OK, maybe there were 3 but I highly doubt it) policeman in his police car pulling us. How cool is that? Well, we thought it was cool but of course, we got excited about little things coming from our small town.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It didn't take long down those parade routes and in our long formal dresses to become completely hot and sweaty. We would prop one arm out on the post that kept us from flying off the float and the other arm waved wildly. This was a good way to keep the underarms from getting all wet. Unfortunately, we could still feel the drips of sweat roll down our legs as we smiled and waved like we were having the time of our lives. It only took us a parade or two before we got smart. After the parade, and as the policeman was taking us back to the starting place to retrieve our vehicles, we convinced him to drive the back roads and somewhat fast. (which wasn't all that fast considering it was a policeman). The three of us girls would pull up our long skirts ONLY TO OUR KNEES YOU SICK PEOPLE and would enjoy the cool breeze. Sometimes the policeman would take an extra detour or two to make sure we were good and cooled down before getting us back to our cars. Gosh, he was such a nice policeman and was so willing to go along with our request AND even go the extra mile:) I love small town perks!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                                                   Here I am pre-parade &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241553269330542530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SL287XG7_8I/AAAAAAAAAng/ec7IAAznknk/s400/beautyqueen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-9209499258505548442?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/9209499258505548442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=9209499258505548442&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9209499258505548442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9209499258505548442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/09/there-was-this-one-summer.html' title='There was this one Summer. . . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SL287XG7_8I/AAAAAAAAAng/ec7IAAznknk/s72-c/beautyqueen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2983501057800040966</id><published>2008-08-27T22:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T23:07:01.562-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Really important stuff'/><title type='text'>It was a rough day. OH, but somebody got an A !!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Well, it's official. I'm old. I know that news comes as a shock to you. You didn't see it coming did you. The fact that I have a 20 year old didn't ring a bell that I was old? Well today's shocking news should put any question about that to bed once and for all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The truth is. . . . I sent my baby to Kindergarten today! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239426435836516786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SLYulW7TmbI/AAAAAAAAAnY/Z4b_pXybkCQ/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; Here is Ty-Ty (now shortened to Ty since he is "too old" for that baby name) doing the standard Bob pose.  Like father like son. . . YIKES!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And YES I cried today! (not because he acts like his father, although that should have been reason enough, but because he started school!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;                                                &lt;strong&gt;In Other Important News&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It seems that we only have one person who got an A on the test and that was Jen.  Her response was&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; "I think #3 is the lie, and both pictures are you but in different decades. You must have gone to a real ritzy high school to get a fur drape! " &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You are right about #3 being the lie.  I didn't ever get to stay out until midnight and so no trouble was to be found with me.  That swimming pool incident actually happened to my friends AFTER they dropped me off for the 11 p.m. curfew.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And yes both pictures are of me, although I'm wishing I didn't really just type that!  Jen you didn't get the extra credit part right though because instead of me going to a real ritzy school to get a fur drape, I actually went to a white trash school and they used the bathroom rug for our drape.  (unfortunately, the boys had to wear the toilet cover on their heads.  It was bad!)  That is my senior picture and the good news is that I can blame that bad cover/fur/whatever on the photographer/school.  The bad news is that I have nobody to blame for my BAD hair and REALLY BAD make up.  I did that all myself.  I guess I could blame my mom for letting me out of the house looking like that huh?  Thanks Mom!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Remind me to tell you the story of the truths listed above sometime.  OK, you don't have to remind me.  I will tell you anyway. . . later. . . probably tomorrow. . . when I'm not so tired. . . it's been an emotional day you know!&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/9101569426455006440-2983501057800040966?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2983501057800040966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2983501057800040966&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2983501057800040966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2983501057800040966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-was-rough-day-oh-but-somebody-got-a.html' title='It was a rough day. OH, but somebody got an A !!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SLYulW7TmbI/AAAAAAAAAnY/Z4b_pXybkCQ/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-188051346429371225</id><published>2008-08-24T19:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T20:12:17.252-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='testing'/><title type='text'>3 Truths, A Lie And a Bonus Question</title><content type='html'>I must apologize because my life is completely useless and boring and I have nothing.  Nothing I tell you!  I have spent the weekend working and cleaning poop.  (melted poop if you ask the culprit Ty, but that whole story is for another day when it's not so fresh on my mind. . or hands:(&lt;br /&gt;SOOOOOOOOOOO for you reading boredom or pleasure, I will give you a test.  I know that you are missing the whole school thing and testing and all so here's your chance.  Let's see how well you think you know me.  I will give you 3 truths and a lie and you are to pick out the lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  One time while sporting my best "Princess Di" get-up, I convinced a policeman to pull me around as I let the wind blow up my skirt, because I was hot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  While on business in Chicago, my sister and I decided to hoist our booties on top of the ice cream bar in Ed Debevic's and sing and dance to The Bee Gees "You Should Be Dancing". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  In a wild and crazy moment, I went along with a dare and after stripping down to my underwear, went for a midnight dip in the high school swimming pool.  That was until the police showed up and politely (or not) escorted us out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  One Summer I opened a restaurant in our basement, was president of a dozen clubs and spent most days surrounded by tubes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And for your bonus question&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first must ask if you've eaten recently? &lt;br /&gt;Do you wait an hour after eating to swim?&lt;br /&gt;Do you get sick easy?&lt;br /&gt;Does liquid spontaneously shoot out your nose?&lt;br /&gt;Are you acquainted with the 80s?&lt;br /&gt;Uh, well I guess it really doesn't matter much anyway. &lt;br /&gt;Do what you must!&lt;br /&gt;Here's the question.  Which one of these pictures is Diana?&lt;br /&gt;Any loud laughter will automatically get you KICKED out of the testing center with a failing grade.  So keep it to yourselves folks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;would it be her?&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SLIO6bC3dxI/AAAAAAAAAnE/B2rZ87Ssu50/s1600-h/7-11-2008+5%3B39%3B39+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238265713440290578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SLIO6bC3dxI/AAAAAAAAAnE/B2rZ87Ssu50/s400/7-11-2008+5%3B39%3B39+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or her?&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SLIO6nWtdjI/AAAAAAAAAnM/QskFclwc_bM/s1600-h/8-24-2008+7%3B40%3B46+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238265716744746546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SLIO6nWtdjI/AAAAAAAAAnM/QskFclwc_bM/s400/8-24-2008+7%3B40%3B46+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you guessed the first one, for extra credit try to guess what's she's wearing there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-188051346429371225?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/188051346429371225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=188051346429371225&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/188051346429371225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/188051346429371225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/08/3-truths-lie-and-bonus-question.html' title='3 Truths, A Lie And a Bonus Question'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SLIO6bC3dxI/AAAAAAAAAnE/B2rZ87Ssu50/s72-c/7-11-2008+5%3B39%3B39+PM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6381435974086304842</id><published>2008-08-20T15:27:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T07:45:14.040-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='awards'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wacky words'/><title type='text'>Wednesday Words, Baby Birds &amp; Fabulous Awards</title><content type='html'>I'm gonna dedicate the word of this week to my husband Bob. He would probably say this is a weird/wacky word and that it is not even in the English dictionary. I've tried to tell him different but you know the old saying "you can't teach an old dog...."? He's an old dog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Word of the day is : &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Were&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Possible uses in sentence would include&lt;/span&gt;: We were excited to go to the game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;They were ready when we arrived.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What Bob uses instead:&lt;/strong&gt; We was going to stop at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; to get some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;melk&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;They was ready when we arrived.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;The two of them was beating each other with those &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pellows&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You see Bob? When it's a plural like in these sentences you change was to were!! Cool trick huh? How about we practice saying it this week in 10 sentences. We'll save &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;melk&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pellow&lt;/span&gt; for another week. We don't want to overdo it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236718182009277426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKyPcPN-C_I/AAAAAAAAAms/3E7SHz2VUnA/s400/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Check out these adorable babies!! They were all hanging out of their nest &amp;amp; so my Mom came and grabbed me to take a pic. I hurried and snapped this one before their Swallow parent's came swooping back in to try and attack me!! SCARED ME!! (But I'm kind of a chicken like that!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236718181385902786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKyPcM5WGsI/AAAAAAAAAm0/bxMCTHW6Vbk/s400/Award_150px.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236718182535183538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKyPcRLWvLI/AAAAAAAAAm8/yKh5DwgNgLw/s400/award_logo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And FINALLY, yet most importantly, I got some really great awards this week! Thank you &lt;a href="http://hellesbelles86.wordpress.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;Hellesbelles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; for appointing me as a "Kick Ass Blogger". That is my goal in life to kick some A**.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And thank you &lt;a href="http://nancysnonsenseofnothingness.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Nancy Face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; for this great Sparkly award!! A girl has got to have her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;bling&lt;/span&gt; and here it is!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'd like to award these two spectacular awards to:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ithinkwereallbozos.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I think We're All Bozos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://elegantthimble.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Honey Pie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.smilinginfidel.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"  style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Elasticwaistbandlady&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;,&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://putsomepolkadotsonit.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Put Some Polka Dots On It&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://petersons-scottamber.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Amber.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You all make me laugh a lot! Now carry on, spread the joy, give some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;bloggy&lt;/span&gt; love!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&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/9101569426455006440-6381435974086304842?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6381435974086304842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6381435974086304842&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6381435974086304842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6381435974086304842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/08/wednesday-words-baby-birds-fabulous.html' title='Wednesday Words, Baby Birds &amp; Fabulous Awards'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKyPcPN-C_I/AAAAAAAAAms/3E7SHz2VUnA/s72-c/007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6790765483692118167</id><published>2008-08-17T21:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T21:39:02.296-06:00</updated><title type='text'>How Much Is That Doggie In The Window?</title><content type='html'>I have to admit that Beaux is quite ingenious.  (He may not be my child but I think he may just be smarter;) He improvises well in order to see out the window and bark at moving objects.  (Which by the way, is NOT annoying at all).  At least we can get a bit of humor out of his creative choices of step stools.  The bear has to be our favorite yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKjtOhhEt1I/AAAAAAAAAmk/tExIs7K-SDA/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235695400589244242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKjtOhhEt1I/AAAAAAAAAmk/tExIs7K-SDA/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-6790765483692118167?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6790765483692118167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6790765483692118167&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6790765483692118167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6790765483692118167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-much-is-that-doggie-in-window.html' title='How Much Is That Doggie In The Window?'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKjtOhhEt1I/AAAAAAAAAmk/tExIs7K-SDA/s72-c/009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-577245847254379085</id><published>2008-08-13T20:49:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T21:09:41.347-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='When good animals go bad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crazy Pet'/><title type='text'>Oh For The Love!</title><content type='html'>Since when does the family pet take over the place?  Beaux is our first house dog and I am telling you he thinks he's another kid in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKOeDWYcJBI/AAAAAAAAAmU/Dg3W7OBiV_c/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234200972319532050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKOeDWYcJBI/AAAAAAAAAmU/Dg3W7OBiV_c/s400/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The darn dog has taken up residency, for his relaxing pleasure, inside of my sexy bag!  I swear I can never have anything to myself with kids. . and a dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKOeDszIYQI/AAAAAAAAAmc/mRRNTLqp9Jk/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234200978337063170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKOeDszIYQI/AAAAAAAAAmc/mRRNTLqp9Jk/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He has convinced Ty-Ty that they both should share his ice cream.  OH, you haven't seen anything yet.  After allowing the dog to lick away to his stomach's content, Ty will then pick up where the dog left off.   I looked over in horror the other day as Ty-Ty was letting the dog lick his tongue!!   YIKES!!  I guess these are some of the crazy things you do with your brother. . .dog.  (In this picture, Ty is making sure I don't make a noise and disturb the dog's dining)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm just holding my breath that he doesn't start hogging the couch &amp;amp; controlling the T.V remote.  He will be just like a husband!!&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/9101569426455006440-577245847254379085?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/577245847254379085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=577245847254379085&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/577245847254379085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/577245847254379085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-for-love.html' title='Oh For The Love!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SKOeDWYcJBI/AAAAAAAAAmU/Dg3W7OBiV_c/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6089857703102460829</id><published>2008-08-10T22:08:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T22:23:25.274-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Synchronized pickle slicing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Olympic BBQ'/><title type='text'>In Honor Of The Olympics. . . .</title><content type='html'>I give you a salute to a wonderful weekend of Olympic viewing.  (mixed with a few BBQs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJ-8V7cRzkI/AAAAAAAAAl0/jwd2dxwWs4U/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233108376947379778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJ-8V7cRzkI/AAAAAAAAAl0/jwd2dxwWs4U/s400/006.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJ-8WNYQ_kI/AAAAAAAAAl8/9aFI0mLbn9I/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233108381762387522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJ-8WNYQ_kI/AAAAAAAAAl8/9aFI0mLbn9I/s400/002.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJ-8WRuG6-I/AAAAAAAAAmE/Sv5nPHYRdoA/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233108382927743970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJ-8WRuG6-I/AAAAAAAAAmE/Sv5nPHYRdoA/s400/004.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJ-8WvmWObI/AAAAAAAAAmM/SISPA8pF-NE/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233108390948256178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJ-8WvmWObI/AAAAAAAAAmM/SISPA8pF-NE/s400/008.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Anything missing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry.  No animals were harmed in the making of this Olympic salute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh, I think a few were hurt in the making of our BBQs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You didn't miss the amazing Opening Ceremonies did you?   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you did I have to say. . . .so sorry for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even recreate that one for you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-6089857703102460829?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6089857703102460829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6089857703102460829&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6089857703102460829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6089857703102460829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/08/in-honor-of-olympics.html' title='In Honor Of The Olympics. . . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJ-8V7cRzkI/AAAAAAAAAl0/jwd2dxwWs4U/s72-c/006.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6076639047276140417</id><published>2008-08-06T16:01:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T16:29:55.491-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wacky words'/><title type='text'>My Son's Choices For Weird Word Wednesday</title><content type='html'>After finishing my reading, I am having a hard time wrapping my brain around what I just read. I think I'm having a post "Breaking Dawn" brain fart, I decided to turn Weird Word Wednesday over to my intelligent (just turned 13 years old) Al-Pal. He seems to be a font of wacky words that he has heard or learned in school and so today is his chance to shine. Here are the words he gave me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Weird Word:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Antidisestablishmentantarianism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What I thought it might mean:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Oh heck! Well, disestablishment would be not established but anti reverses that whole thing. I'm confused. . . my brain hurts too much! I just read over 700 pages of crazy stuff! It's probably a vegetarian establishment that isn't sure if they are going to serve any meat products or not thus causing confusion as to whether to label it a vegetarian establishment or not. Did I lose you there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What it really means:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; A belief or view that is against a belief or view that is against the government or an establishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, that came from &lt;a href="http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_does_antidisestablishmentantarianism_mean"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WikiAnswers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and is NOT making the least bit of sense to me. Like that's hard to do at this point though. So if you can clarify that for me, I would be grateful. I can't even use it in a sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Weird Word:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Triskadecophobia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I thought it might mean: &lt;/strong&gt;Somebody who is afraid of eating Triscuits (or other Nabisco products) while playing cards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What it really means: &lt;/strong&gt;The fear of the number 13.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously many people suffer from this because you can't get a room on the 13th floor most anywhere it seems. Personally I say "Bring it on!" "Show me the magic of 13!". . . or the curse, or whatever it brings. You won't find me looking over my shoulder or being cautious on Friday the 13th. Nope not me! There is no triskadecophobia in my life. How about you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned. Next week I might get my 6 year old to spew out some wacky (and most likely made up) words for you to chew on:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-6076639047276140417?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6076639047276140417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6076639047276140417&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6076639047276140417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6076639047276140417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-sons-choices-for-weird-word.html' title='My Son&apos;s Choices For Weird Word Wednesday'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6783593833330924966</id><published>2008-08-04T23:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T23:12:30.430-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crazy me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twilight Illness'/><title type='text'>The Blogger You Have Attempted To Reach. . .</title><content type='html'>Is currently NOT available.  In fact, she has been unavailable for several days and her house chores are stacking up.&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJffRkNnBlI/AAAAAAAAAlU/DP6bYohfpIY/s1600-h/messyhouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230894985085650514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJffRkNnBlI/AAAAAAAAAlU/DP6bYohfpIY/s400/messyhouse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                 She is also getting really behind at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJffRoJ3DDI/AAAAAAAAAlc/W1jDSxWjpOw/s1600-h/messydesk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230894986143665202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJffRoJ3DDI/AAAAAAAAAlc/W1jDSxWjpOw/s400/messydesk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                               &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;                                 Her family is hoping that she will someday cook again!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJffR4AbnOI/AAAAAAAAAlk/moLz3jPhq7A/s1600-h/pizza.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230894990399085794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJffR4AbnOI/AAAAAAAAAlk/moLz3jPhq7A/s400/pizza.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;                                    But right now she has more pressing things to address. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJffR_5lebI/AAAAAAAAAls/FBfyIjZ_-4U/s1600-h/breakingdawn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230894992517855666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJffR_5lebI/AAAAAAAAAls/FBfyIjZ_-4U/s400/breakingdawn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          Please leave a message after the beep and she might get back to you. . . . &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BEEEEP&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/9101569426455006440-6783593833330924966?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6783593833330924966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6783593833330924966&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6783593833330924966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6783593833330924966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/08/blogger-you-have-attempted-to-reach.html' title='The Blogger You Have Attempted To Reach. . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJffRkNnBlI/AAAAAAAAAlU/DP6bYohfpIY/s72-c/messyhouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-8316075736513154343</id><published>2008-07-30T16:19:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T17:01:41.376-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;ve officially lost it'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='award'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wacky words'/><title type='text'>Weird Word Wednesday AND A Special Presentation</title><content type='html'>Because of vacation last week, I did not do "Weird Word Wednesday" and I know that you were left hanging without a word to use over and over all week. For that, I am sorry! But this week I'm making up for it by giving you a really long word! The down side to this word is that it may be a bit more difficult to just throw it into a sentence. We'll see how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Word is: &lt;a href="http://www.worldwidewords.org/weirdwords/ww-zen1.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Zenzizenzizenzic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What I thought this word meant: &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;It means that a person with a stuttering problem is trying to JUST say Zenzic (which I thought was probably a prescription drug to help a person have more Zen). When saying it myself, I sounded a bit like a bullet bike starting up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;What it really means: &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;The Eight power of a number.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;You know, like squared, cubed and other numbers to represent the power of a number. This is the simple way to say "10 to the 8th power". Instead you would say "10 Zenzizenzizenziced" Much easier huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;I guess that's why this word is actually obsolete now. Sigh! I gave you a word that really doesn't exist in the dictionary anymore. TAKE IT!! RUN WITH IT!! USE IT OFTEN!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ahem! Could I have your attention?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;You may be wondering why I called you all here. And you may be wondering MORE why I have picked out this beautiful evening gown for myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228941199422945986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJDuURcCesI/AAAAAAAAAk8/QkCtM3g0dpQ/s400/veggiedress.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Well, I'm receiving an award and I'm feeling more like a vegetable lately than anyone deserving of the "Brillante Weblog Premio" award.  BUT I'LL TAKE IT GLADLY &amp;amp; GRATEFULLY!   Thank you &lt;a href="http://www.sabiiwabii.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Running With Scissors&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;for this wonderful award!!  I tried to find a nut dress or a fruit cake dress, which also would have worked perfectly but you know how the pickens get fer an award event such as this.  It's like a Ho down!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;First of all, I would like to thank my Diet Coke with Lime for keeping me on my toes from sun up to sun down.  Without you, I would never blog.  Then I would have to include my chocolate and ibuprofen, which are ALSO required to successfully make it through any given day.  They also aid in my brilliance you know.  Oh, don't question my brilliance!  If I didn't have Alzheimer's, I would remember all of that smart stuff in my head.  OK, that will have to be all for now because I just remembered I'm allergic to raw vegetables and this dress is causing me to swell.  Oh you noticed?  Are you calling me fat?  Well, it's only swelling and has nothing at all to do with chocolate or the other million things I shove into my mouth daily I swear.  Oh thanks!  You've completely side tracked me now and my good festive "I won a cool award" mood is now a "I'm a fat cow in my veggie dress" mood.  Sigh!  I'm leaving now. . . . . OH, I'm not crying because of you!  The onions are getting to me.  Would you like one before I go?  OK BYE!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I will have to search, ponder, pray (and then draw out of a hat) some lucky people to stand at this here podium to accept this great award along with me.  Stay tuned. . . or don't. . . it's up to you really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228941206354464066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJDuUrQpDUI/AAAAAAAAAlE/J7Jri6h1rmU/s400/award_logo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-8316075736513154343?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/8316075736513154343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=8316075736513154343&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/8316075736513154343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/8316075736513154343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/weird-word-wednesday-and-special.html' title='Weird Word Wednesday AND A Special Presentation'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SJDuURcCesI/AAAAAAAAAk8/QkCtM3g0dpQ/s72-c/veggiedress.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4556460567674193320</id><published>2008-07-28T20:28:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T21:03:29.751-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home from vacation woes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Contest Winnings'/><title type='text'>I Came Home To This</title><content type='html'>There is nothing worse than coming home from vacation.  OK, maybe there is worse.  Like when somebody has the stomach flu and they throw up in the toilet as they poop in your shoe.  I consider that much worse.  Or when you are pregnant and somebody throws up while you are in the car with them and you have to quickly exit the car with the wet wipes container stuffed up your nose as you dry heave over and over. . . . OK, you get the picture.  Let's just say I wasn't looking forward to returning from vacation and dealing with the mess that dirty clothes and unpacking makes.  But then my world changed!  Well, really the world stayed the same but my outlook on the day was much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my great delight there was a package at home waiting for my arrival!  You see, I was merely trying to help a dear friend/blogger &lt;a href="http://www.ithinkwereallbozos.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kathi &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;come up with unisex names for her chickens or roosters.  She wasn't sure what they were but they needed names and so I obliged with a couple of names that cause me great confusion.  There are a couple in my church ward and their names are Mel and Del.  I can never remember who is the male and who is the female and usually stutter when I come face to face with them and address them.  Anyway, Kathi not only liked the names but the story with it and now has chicks/roosters with those names.  I feel so honored!  And even more now that I got this great stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check her out!  I swear Kathi is a triple threat.  She not only has the talent to attract famous people, she writes the funniest stuff and to top it off, she can sew!!  I have to say that I envy this talent greatly because it is not anything I am remotely gifted with.  Here are the goods she slaved over for me.  Thanks Kathi!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a large shoulder bag that has my name (plus the birds) stitched on it.  It is darling and is like a mail carrier bag!  I love it and my dog thinks he should climb in and be carried around in it. (I will include that pic another time).  There is also the smaller blue zipper bag next to it (check out the cute stitching again!) and inside there is a C.D. I will have to give you the details on that later when I have a chance to look at it on the computer.  (I was just in such a hurry to get this stuff on here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6A9b8mdiI/AAAAAAAAAkU/4PTraNgALVM/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228258010386036258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6A9b8mdiI/AAAAAAAAAkU/4PTraNgALVM/s400/024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6A9uRFkEI/AAAAAAAAAkc/7i1CC4M1os4/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228258015303798850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6A9uRFkEI/AAAAAAAAAkc/7i1CC4M1os4/s400/025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out this darling apron!  Such cute fabrics and with ruffles all around it!  I tried it on and had to twirl I felt like such a princess in it.  I ALMOST decided to cook right then and there but decided pizza would have to do since there were NO groceries in the house. . . maybe later I'll cook.  Fortunately, this also has my name on it PLUS the ruffles and so hopefully it will keep my hubby Bob from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Absquatulating&lt;/span&gt; (YES, I used my word again!) with it like he has my other.  He really has before and I am left &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;apron less&lt;/span&gt;. . . until now!  Thanks Kathi !!  How did you know??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6A-RRd9TI/AAAAAAAAAkk/p2ILT7ow69c/s1600-h/026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228258024700638514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6A-RRd9TI/AAAAAAAAAkk/p2ILT7ow69c/s400/026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Flanking each side of my name are my dear Del and Mel with their names stitched above them. Isn't that the cutest thing you have ever seen?  I may not dare to wear it to actually cook in!  I would hate to slop on it you know.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6A_U9tz3I/AAAAAAAAAks/chsuvgFcyBY/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228258042871402354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6A_U9tz3I/AAAAAAAAAks/chsuvgFcyBY/s400/027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6BAKoOQrI/AAAAAAAAAk0/DaQR_uFPJzI/s1600-h/028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228258057276768946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6BAKoOQrI/AAAAAAAAAk0/DaQR_uFPJzI/s400/028.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't checked out her blog, it's a must and is my daily/morning read as I open my eyes and drink my morning Diet Coke (with lime).  Thanks for making my day &lt;a href="http://www.ithinkwereallbozos.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kathi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and thanks for the great prizes!  I love them!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-4556460567674193320?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4556460567674193320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4556460567674193320&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4556460567674193320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4556460567674193320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-came-home-to-this.html' title='I Came Home To This'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SI6A9b8mdiI/AAAAAAAAAkU/4PTraNgALVM/s72-c/024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-9120117994035540383</id><published>2008-07-24T20:59:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T21:42:07.254-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;ve officially lost it'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oops I did it again'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>In An Attempt To Kill Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So here we are on family vacation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and for some reason the word "VACATION" for me = EAT EVERYTHING in sight because you are taking a vacation from watching what you eat. (OK, don't laugh. I at least TRY to watch what I eat at home. . . on occasion or probably not.) Well, today I came out to the kitchen in our condo to find these on the counter top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226783372459636530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIlDyNlf9zI/AAAAAAAAAkM/1trLxk1cmjg/s400/wasabipeas.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;They were in a nice little package that indicated on the label that they were Wasabi Peas. Knowing that they were:  &lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt;) in the kitchen &lt;strong&gt;B&lt;/strong&gt;) in an open package &lt;strong&gt;C&lt;/strong&gt;) Peas=nutritious, I decided to inquire about them. My brother Mike was busy making home made pizzas and insisted that they were really good and that I should try them. Now what would you have done? Well, I did what I always do when presented food or even when food is within a 10 mile radius. I decided to try it! Let me just say that going into this I had NO clue what Wasabi was. Yeah, I guess you could say I fell off the turnip truck yesterday but I really didn't know! I quickly popped one in my mouth and chewed and immediately opened my now burning and insulted mouth and headed quickly for the garbage to spit! Oh, you know that the family was getting a good laugh out of this!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Who buys this crap?" I asked. I should have even known better than to ask. My Dad bought it and it just serves me right for even questioning it. The first taste that so rudely intruded on  and offended my taste buds was the flavor of horseradish. I can honestly say I HATE that flavor! Apparently I should have asked what Wasabi was BEFORE trying it, at which point I would have been informed that it was a type of Japanese Horseradish. YUCK! Memories of my childhood came flooding back to me at that very moment. All two of them that I remember (so it was more like a trickle than a flood). It's a sad deal when you have Alzheimer's! Anywho, I remember my Dad eating horseradish with about EVERYTHING edible and probably things that weren't edible. We would all shriek in disgust. He would fool us by having us turn to look at something or pass something while at the table and he would take a bit of horseradish and put it in our potatoes. He would then sit back and wait for that moment when we would bite into it and run gagging (sometimes gagging AND crying) to the sink and then he would laugh! Let's just say that I have never and WILL NEVER be a fan of horseradish. (I am not into eating horse:) Even though I have greatly expanded my menu from what I ate as a child, horseradish will never be a part of my grown-up menu. YUCK! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So if you didn't know&lt;/span&gt; what Wasabi was, here is your warning. If you did know, then you can laugh at me and wonder what rock I crawled out from under. If you are a wasabi or horseradish lover I can only say- Your taste really sucks! I won't fall for that trick again!. . . or will I? I'm kind of scared with my lack of memory these days. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;OH, and by the way, it didn't ruin my appetite for lunch or dinner. I didn't skip a beat with the food thing:) Yum, Yum!&lt;/span&gt;&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/9101569426455006440-9120117994035540383?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/9120117994035540383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=9120117994035540383&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9120117994035540383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9120117994035540383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/in-attempt-to-kill-me.html' title='In An Attempt To Kill Me'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIlDyNlf9zI/AAAAAAAAAkM/1trLxk1cmjg/s72-c/wasabipeas.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-1219274432652622741</id><published>2008-07-23T15:33:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T16:00:53.441-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;ve officially lost it'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>Kicking Back Condo Style</title><content type='html'>While on vacation, we spend a bit of time at the fabulous condos in Deer Valley.  That is, when we are not down in Park City shopping. . . which is a LOT of time for me:)  This is how we kick back here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekn0j07CI/AAAAAAAAAjU/P_ejJ0ckdzk/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226326896617516066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekn0j07CI/AAAAAAAAAjU/P_ejJ0ckdzk/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is Kitty getting her hair bows in for the day. . . all 40 of them. You can never have enough hair bows as a teenager can you?  Her amazing "bower" is none other than her three year old cousin Gabs.  Notice that there are a couple of redheads in the pic? Yeah, we don't know where they came from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekoBy-UXI/AAAAAAAAAjc/GoVmZ2zgmbg/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226326900170707314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekoBy-UXI/AAAAAAAAAjc/GoVmZ2zgmbg/s400/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Every day we do some craft project for the kids.  Here are the cousins with Grandma V. doing bead necklaces &amp;amp; sticker art.  We manage to keep the kids under control for about 20 minutes and then it's back to KIDS GONE WILD! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekocxuNtI/AAAAAAAAAjk/o70z2dpxYw0/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226326907413214930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekocxuNtI/AAAAAAAAAjk/o70z2dpxYw0/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Al-Pal and Ty-Ty having a great time doing crafts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekonZIMYI/AAAAAAAAAjs/BVHSik2gB9k/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226326910262849922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekonZIMYI/AAAAAAAAAjs/BVHSik2gB9k/s400/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Kitty thinks she is too big for craft time and used the excuse that she had to pick her nose instead. . . I guess she wasn't lying.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekowD7IRI/AAAAAAAAAj0/e0_GN9w8zsw/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226326912589832466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekowD7IRI/AAAAAAAAAj0/e0_GN9w8zsw/s400/015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bob would rather read "Parenting" Magazine than help with crafts.  I'm not sure what the centerfold is in this magazine but he is sure enjoying it.  Check out the back of this magazine.  Shouldn't "The Van Rocks" come before Parenting?  At least that's what I remember. . . just kidding Dad, there was no van rocking. . . it was a truck!  NO, I'm still joking with you all.  But I did find that back cover fascinating.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226327391875636226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIelEpikHAI/AAAAAAAAAj8/8ZFjRXyZucE/s400/018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Sometimes when I'm not reading "New Moon" or checking out the computer stuff, I'm taking REALLY BAD self portraits, and blurry ones too!  I took a vacation from doing my hair and stuff too so don't laugh.  It's just me!. . . Oh, and Bob.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226327395683192370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIelE3uWzjI/AAAAAAAAAkE/AyrdgrNglvg/s400/021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bob and I went shopping and look what we found in the window of Geoffrey Beene.  It's a Bat if you can't tell.  I made Bob take this pic because I figured it had to be sick or rabid or something to be sleeping right here in public.  I wasn't going to risk myself with this crazy stuff!  Sorry Bob.  After my vaca reads, he may just turn into a Vampire or a Werewolf!  Now that would be so cool!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That completes your tour of our Condo adventures for today.  Tune in. . . later?  for more really good stuff that you can't stay away from.  I know you can't can you, cuz you don't have pictures like this of your own I'm sure.  And you've probably never been on vacation and stuff.  Well don't you worry because I will be back. . . and that's a promise!&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/9101569426455006440-1219274432652622741?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1219274432652622741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=1219274432652622741&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/1219274432652622741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/1219274432652622741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/kicking-back-condo-style.html' title='Kicking Back Condo Style'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIekn0j07CI/AAAAAAAAAjU/P_ejJ0ckdzk/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2475739133855510890</id><published>2008-07-21T09:44:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T10:38:54.589-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><title type='text'>Vacation- Family Style</title><content type='html'>We are spending the week with family for our annual "Deer Valley/Park City Vacation". It is a great week where we do NOTHING we don't want and EVERYTHING we do want! I love it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIS2Nr03YGI/AAAAAAAAAis/2_EMQ8c83WA/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225501813875630178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIS2Nr03YGI/AAAAAAAAAis/2_EMQ8c83WA/s400/021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It is always fun to shop down Park City Main Street. The shops and people are so interesting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIS2N-xswEI/AAAAAAAAAi0/LRVYpbZWGzc/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225501818962624578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIS2N-xswEI/AAAAAAAAAi0/LRVYpbZWGzc/s400/018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My hubby enjoyed shopping this time because it involved belly dancers for entertainment. (And boy was he entertained. I had to drag him away kicking and screaming. It was quite the scene I tell you:)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIS2Ov-jiTI/AAAAAAAAAi8/9wJifEL7-jQ/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225501832169883954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIS2Ov-jiTI/AAAAAAAAAi8/9wJifEL7-jQ/s400/017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; If there is one place that is "Green" it's definitely Park City. Here are the recycle containers and instructions for where to put what. Everything they were selling at this "Market On Main" was a green product. (Who knows, I may learn a thing or two).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225505261633293650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIS5WXuWTVI/AAAAAAAAAjE/FXANh8qP0j8/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was Hubby-Bob's (not his real name) Birthday yesterday. He spent some time doing this.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225505268797985442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIS5Wyai0qI/AAAAAAAAAjM/P-CxLbXq9XU/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And some time doing this. You have to take lots of naps when you are now half way to 88!&lt;br /&gt;(He may just kill me for this pic and comment-but I can still outrun the old fart! heehee!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hope you are having a great week! I will be bringing you more from beautiful Deer Valley later.&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/9101569426455006440-2475739133855510890?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2475739133855510890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2475739133855510890&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2475739133855510890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2475739133855510890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/vacation-family-style.html' title='Vacation- Family Style'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SIS2Nr03YGI/AAAAAAAAAis/2_EMQ8c83WA/s72-c/021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2665554982346338208</id><published>2008-07-16T14:34:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T14:58:21.292-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reunions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rednecks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fat People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wacky words'/><title type='text'>Weird Word Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today's weird word is :&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Pyknic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I thought the word meant:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;I figured it was probably the way that Skipper, Bud &amp;amp; Cletus spelled picnic for the Redneck reunion invitation. At least that was how it was on my invite. .er, I mean the one I saw laying in the gutter for. . . . . . .someone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223717649831922722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SH5fhq0rjCI/AAAAAAAAAic/IjvjEOdIkzE/s400/redneckpicnic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223717648984244130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SH5fhnqk_6I/AAAAAAAAAik/1O4gJsuQq9Y/s400/RedneckPicnic1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hey Y'alls! The Rednek Pyknic is tammara. Yu're as welcome as a skunk atta lawn party! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bring er dogs. Couch an pop provided on porch.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What it really means is:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;Short and Fat &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;A correct sentence would be: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;The doctor said my body mass index was in excess for my height. What he really meant to say was that I am pyknic. What a jerk! (your welcome &lt;a href="http://pocketsofposies.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-know-why-my-bmi-is-in-excess-for-my.html"&gt;angel)&lt;/a&gt; If you haven't read her post- it's a must!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;* don't even ask me why I used spell check on this baby.  Like it was 90% wrong obviously!&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/9101569426455006440-2665554982346338208?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2665554982346338208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2665554982346338208&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2665554982346338208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2665554982346338208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/weird-word-wednesday_16.html' title='Weird Word Wednesday'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SH5fhq0rjCI/AAAAAAAAAic/IjvjEOdIkzE/s72-c/redneckpicnic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5511778668035866965</id><published>2008-07-15T13:43:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T14:00:26.764-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GIVEAWAY'/><title type='text'>And The Winner Is. . . .</title><content type='html'>Thank you to everyone who left a comment or two, or three. . .or more. I had a good time reading them and also checking out some new blogs! We have a winner of the $100.00 Boutique &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Giveaway&lt;/span&gt;. My 12 year old, Al-Pal became the lucky picker after several problems arose with my youngest having the coveted job. Ty-Ty just couldn't seem to pick only one and wanted MANY of you to win! I do have to say he is very generous on my dime:) Anyway, the winner is. . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223329847497783682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHz-0mjM-YI/AAAAAAAAAiM/5rtwuGWfctU/s400/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223329855493511282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHz-1EViGHI/AAAAAAAAAiU/_AyUM1N16Es/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Elasticwaistbandlady&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!!!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(sorry it's blurry but I was nervous with excitement &amp;amp; anticipation-or not really but it sounds better than being old and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;shaky&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will be getting in touch with you to get more details!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thanks for helping me celebrate my big 100&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!! Here's to another 100. . .or so. OK, I won't get greedy here and will just shoot for my next 100 at the moment. You know, that A.D.D thing might catch up with me!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5511778668035866965?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5511778668035866965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5511778668035866965&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5511778668035866965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5511778668035866965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/and-winner-is.html' title='And The Winner Is. . . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHz-0mjM-YI/AAAAAAAAAiM/5rtwuGWfctU/s72-c/006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-7774848985037150036</id><published>2008-07-11T17:48:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T05:40:20.710-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oops I did it again'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SURPRISE'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GIVEAWAY'/><title type='text'>The Moment You've Been Waiting For (And Giveaway)</title><content type='html'>Sorry to put you through such torment and force you wait for such a long time. I know you have been clasping your hands together, holding your breath and squealing in anticipation. I do hope you are OK and that I didn't prevent you from getting on with life. The thought of you being unfocused and unable to perform would be too much. I just have some big news and it's not something I could just throw out there unplanned, unorganized and unexciting. Things like this just take some time. And quite frankly, I'm a bit of a computer tard and so it took me LONGER than anyone else to figure out some stuff.  But I did it eventually. So without further ado I now present to you . . . . . &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Diana's 100th Post !!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(cue big band)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So in celebration of me getting to 100 even with my A.D.D. -OH, not Attention Deficit Disorder. I was referring to my ability to ADD. ( I'm an accountant and we can't be writing and counting at the same time.) But anyway, to celebrate this great occasion I am going to torture you with some pictures. . . OF ME! And if you are good and you don't laugh too hard (only with me &amp;amp; not at me) I could possibly have a surprise at the end of the post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfyhD-MayI/AAAAAAAAAhE/SJTDq7RvmhE/s1600-h/7-11-2008+5%3B40%3B42+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221908942775151394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfyhD-MayI/AAAAAAAAAhE/SJTDq7RvmhE/s400/7-11-2008+5%3B40%3B42+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;This is a rare picture(one of the two pictures on the planet) of me as a baby. Here I am with my hot Mom holding me. I must have been a really ugly baby to explain the absence of more pictures. Don't worry Mom &amp;amp; Dad, I'm not scarred for life:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfyhZ1i07I/AAAAAAAAAhM/Y_4aCp15MHo/s1600-h/7-11-2008+5%3B44%3B14+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221908948644451250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfyhZ1i07I/AAAAAAAAAhM/Y_4aCp15MHo/s400/7-11-2008+5%3B44%3B14+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Alright, maybe I fibbed a little and there are actually three pictures of me as a baby. The funny thing is that when I do a Fohawk, I still look exactly like this with chubby cheeks and all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfyhqG_wYI/AAAAAAAAAhU/a_iyGnE4zdY/s1600-h/7-11-2008+5%3B41%3B04+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221908953012617602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfyhqG_wYI/AAAAAAAAAhU/a_iyGnE4zdY/s400/7-11-2008+5%3B41%3B04+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Here are me and my sister Angel. We are flower girls at my cousin's wedding. Boy did we love our pigtails!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfyhl-ubiI/AAAAAAAAAhc/q7YWyLwumSw/s1600-h/7-11-2008+5%3B39%3B09+PM.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221908951904185890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfyhl-ubiI/AAAAAAAAAhc/q7YWyLwumSw/s400/7-11-2008+5%3B39%3B09+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Oh, don't make me dig this picture back out to see what grade this was. I am thinking it was 5th. OH PLEASE! Don't tell me that you thought I was serious? This is more like 1st grade people! And YES, my hair was always misbehaving. . . still is!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221908956024363266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfyh1VDWQI/AAAAAAAAAhk/o_5sG9K9iqc/s400/7-11-2008+5%3B41%3B21+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Can&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;you say Big 80's hair? This is me graduating from high school. Yeah, I insisted on pictures for proof later on. I know I'm hot in my white gown and white socks and quite possibly white shoes? I can't tell but I wouldn't doubt it with my great 80's taste!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221910048737271138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfzhcAHHWI/AAAAAAAAAhs/RQBQfG8fNgs/s400/7-11-2008+5%3B41%3B14+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I know you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; have all had the wild urge to call me "Princess Di". You have haven't you? Well, go right ahead! I was in royalty once and was a princess. So it completely works! If you are unable to pick me out from this picture, look for the one with the BIGGEST hair and that would be me. (Or with a pink dress/white sash)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221910061873880578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfziM8H3gI/AAAAAAAAAh0/U_FIW2b9CW4/s400/7-11-2008+5%3B41%3B41+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The happy couple starring Bob&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; and I on our wedding day. We were married in the Salt Lake Temple 21 years ago!. . . is that all? It seems like FOREVER already! hee hee! Check out the dress and tux. We are completely decked out in the 80s wedding fashion and we looked dang good. . .or so we thought. We can now look back and wonder "What were we thinking?" (P.S- the dress &amp;amp; veil were made by my Mother with my assistance on beads).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221910070255821762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfzisKiI8I/AAAAAAAAAh8/AXVy9UEVI14/s400/7-11-2008+5%3B41%3B30+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Here I go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; again with pictures of graduation for proof. NO this is not my high school graduation silly! This would be the day I graduated from Utah State University with a Bachelors degree in Accounting. And I SURVIVED with three kids! I'm just cool like that I guess;) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221910074872139618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfzi9XJj2I/AAAAAAAAAiE/iATB8qnMpjw/s400/7-11-2008+5%3B42%3B00+PM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And last but not least, we have my four kiddos sitting out in the weeds. That's what we do for punishment. You see, they have allergies and so it really is a bad deal to be sent out to the weed patch. They were all bad this day and we have evidence! From left we have: Ty-Ty, Al-Pal, Kitty and Jakeman. Sure they are looking all innocent now but you have no idea what they have been up to. Bob &amp;amp; I couldn't be in the picture because of the black eyes we sustained. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And once again, I may have been fibbing a bit for story sake but it sounded good eh? (No, I'm not from Canada-I don't know where that came from). I want you to come up with what kind of mischief these hoodlums were up to prior to this picture being snapped. &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Leave me a comment and because it's a CELEBRATION and I like to be a kind and giving person, I will have Ty-Ty randomly pick his nose. . . er, a number from his sand pail to pick a winner of my give-away. You can enter twice if you like because I'm nice like that and I get all giddy when I see comments greater than 10! NO, it doesn't take much to get me going folks. But now is the opportunity to double your chances if you like! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(Comments will be closed to contest on Monday 7/14 at 9 p.m. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mountain standard time)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What is it that I'm giving away? I'm glad you asked! You may or may not know that I am part owner of a Floral/Boutique. I will be sending one lucky winner a gift bag of boutique items with a &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;value of &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;$100.00.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thanks for stopping by and commenting &amp;amp; I wish you all good luck! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(Then you can leave your congratulatory presents at the door and leave. . just kidding!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-7774848985037150036?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7774848985037150036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=7774848985037150036&amp;isPopup=true' title='73 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7774848985037150036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7774848985037150036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/moment-youve-been-waiting-for.html' title='The Moment You&apos;ve Been Waiting For (And Giveaway)'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHfyhD-MayI/AAAAAAAAAhE/SJTDq7RvmhE/s72-c/7-11-2008+5%3B40%3B42+PM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>73</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-2296266727977928922</id><published>2008-07-09T15:40:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T16:05:21.782-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wacky words'/><title type='text'>Weird Word Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Word of the Week:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Frigorific&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When I saw this word, I knew it had to be the word of the week.&lt;/strong&gt; It brought back a really funny memory of my Mom that us kids are not about to let her live down. I don't remember the exact details but I do know that we always make fun of each other for the funny things we say. On this particular day at the floral, Mom went to say something and all that came out of her mouth was "Frigg!" Well, that's all it took and now we all throw a "Frigg" into a conversation every once and a while for a bit of a laugh. So that is what I would call &lt;strong&gt;Frigorific!&lt;/strong&gt; Like you are extra friggy!  "Getten' friggy wit it".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What it actually means: &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Causing cold; Chilling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Used in a sentence: &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The boys were frigorific as they came up from the pool water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Can't you tell from looking at Ty-Ty on the left?  As for Tater, he is loving it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221135087519885634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHUyswfzaUI/AAAAAAAAAg0/0N8u-Th-e14/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221135095357106642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHUytNsV6dI/AAAAAAAAAg8/dAPT4-HGxvw/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;We've been told many times that these three boys look identical.  Can you see the resemblance? . . . . . . or NOT!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh wait!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don't go!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have one more thing&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;or two.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Stay tuned&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;something big &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;is coming up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And you might like it. . . &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Or not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Guess you might have to take that chance&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;or not!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hope to see you soon:)&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/9101569426455006440-2296266727977928922?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/2296266727977928922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=2296266727977928922&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2296266727977928922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/2296266727977928922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/weird-word-wednesday_09.html' title='Weird Word Wednesday'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHUyswfzaUI/AAAAAAAAAg0/0N8u-Th-e14/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-3029556897387170135</id><published>2008-07-07T15:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T15:35:14.291-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Summer- It isn't over until. . . . .</title><content type='html'>You do completely goofy stuff with a bunch of ALMOST strangers. (relatives) for an entire day at family reunion.&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI7v8KqcI/AAAAAAAAAgM/6L3aIzirCrw/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220385478138309058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI7v8KqcI/AAAAAAAAAgM/6L3aIzirCrw/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It all started with some innocent disk passing between the legs and over the head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI8uAh4OI/AAAAAAAAAgU/K6ZNYpClyCE/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220385494799605986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI8uAh4OI/AAAAAAAAAgU/K6ZNYpClyCE/s400/021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Things got more serious when we had to really find out just how low you could go!  My poor Brother in-law lost his hair on this one.  Scalped I tell you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI97Wm9BI/AAAAAAAAAgc/LItIy-U5dFc/s1600-h/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220385515561743378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI97Wm9BI/AAAAAAAAAgc/LItIy-U5dFc/s400/022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Obviously my oldest takes after his dad on flexibility.  "Hey Jake, don't forget you have a growth on your shoulders you need to get under that bar!"  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI-HWJZcI/AAAAAAAAAgk/0w5bHfvq0w4/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220385518781031874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI-HWJZcI/AAAAAAAAAgk/0w5bHfvq0w4/s400/030.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And then when you are all good and sweaty, how about snuggling closely to a stranger for some three legged fun? (I think by this point I may have had sweat dripping to my waist line:) Attractive, I know!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI-SRh4eI/AAAAAAAAAgs/VgFxu6gJqKk/s1600-h/050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220385521714455010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI-SRh4eI/AAAAAAAAAgs/VgFxu6gJqKk/s400/050.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A great way to end the reunion is to have a "Not So Newlywed" game.  I think it may have been a way to end some marriages too;)&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/9101569426455006440-3029556897387170135?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3029556897387170135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=3029556897387170135&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3029556897387170135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3029556897387170135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/summer-it-isnt-over-until.html' title='Summer- It isn&apos;t over until. . . . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SHKI7v8KqcI/AAAAAAAAAgM/6L3aIzirCrw/s72-c/013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4336200789761343346</id><published>2008-07-02T22:21:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T23:08:55.855-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wacky words'/><title type='text'>Weird Word Wednesday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This week I'm bring you another word that starts with A&lt;/span&gt;. I am so amazed at how many words there are in the English language that I have not only ever used, but have never even heard. So here is my new word of the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;autocoprophagy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;(auto-co-pro-fa-gy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I thought it might mean:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;A gay man who has an obsession with making photocopies. In a conversation I would say "We don't know what to do with Pat because he has a serious case of &lt;strong&gt;Autocoprophagy&lt;/strong&gt; and won't leave the office!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What it really means:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Eating one's own feces.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A correct sentence might be: &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;We're not hanging out with Pat anymore. His breath smells bad because he has a bad case of &lt;strong&gt;Autocoprophagy."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Let's hope that you don't have to use this word often in conversations, unless you are talking about your dog. . . eating one's own feces. I call that SICKO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/9101569426455006440-4336200789761343346?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4336200789761343346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4336200789761343346&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4336200789761343346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4336200789761343346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/weird-word-wednesday.html' title='Weird Word Wednesday!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-8127934648201681450</id><published>2008-07-01T19:05:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T22:56:28.230-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;ve officially lost it'/><title type='text'>I'll Give It To You Straight</title><content type='html'>So fortunately for me, EXACTLY seven of you felt sorry, compelled, obligated, interested, guilty or something like that for me. You actually asked a question! Wow! I feel so loved. . .or not. I'm not sure which one but I am answering ALL the questions you asked me because I like you. NO, don't feel guilty because you can't return that sentiment. I'll only cry until I dehydrate from tears. I should be back to normal in a few days. OH, thanks! Insult me when I'm feeling down. I know that I have NEVER been normal so don't rub it in. *Sigh!. . . There is always hope isn't there? I'm completely lost now. Where was I? Oh yes, I am answering questions from my dear friends/lurkers/family and such. Here they are. If they are dumb, it's only your fault because you asked them. If you didn't ask them, it's your fault because YOU had the opportunity to ask anything about me and you DIDN'T! No, I'm not bitter. Let's not lollygag. Here we go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elegantthimble.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alice&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; (my favorite sox partner ever) asked:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"If you had to pick a character from a book for a one night stand, who would it be and why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to go with Pinocchio. . . . OK, I'm kidding. I would really be different here and go with Edward from Twilight. There is just something intriguing about being with a vampire isn't there? And he never ages so a 17 year old would be a new twist. Ewwww! That whole thought actually creeped me out. I'll stick with Pinocchio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://rowenasrantings.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jen &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;asked:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Do you have any pet peeves or grammar peeves?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; My very biggest pet peeve is when he lifts his leg and pees on everything. . . . OH, I gotcha. Personally, I have a REALLY hard time with people being LATE. It annoys me BAD. As for grammar peeves, I have such bad grammar that I am probably annoying a lot of people with my bad grammar and writing. For that I can only say "So sorry!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://dogsandjeans.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Trooper Thorn &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;asked&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"If you could give the power of speech to only one animal species, which one do you think would have anything interesting to say?" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Oh, no doubt dogs would have some great tales to tell. I would ask them why man is their best friend and not woman. Oh, there is a list of things I would ask dogs but this is a rated PG-(sometimes 13) program I'm running here so I'll leave that one alone!  You can come up with your own "Dog Dialogue".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wilddaisies-pj.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;P.J &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;asked:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"If you were to open your front door and go ANYWHERE your heart desired. Where the heck would you go?" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I would HOPE to not go to heck that's for sure! But I would love to go to. . . Oh man, so many places I have dreamed about and I need to pick one. I have always wanted to go somewhere cool like Italy, France or Australia but I think that I would LOVE to first go to Nigeria and meet the amazing people my parents fell in love with while serving a mission there. (now that was a run on sentence for you:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lolaagain.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lola &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(sister &amp;amp; neighbor) asked:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Did you eat my chocolate?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Come on now Lola. . . . .&lt;br /&gt;You KNOW I ate your chocolate. I always eat all the chocolate. First I rummage through every drawer in my house searching for that last chocolate chip. When they are gone, it's over to your house baby! You may want to lock it up in the medicine cabinet. I'm a chocolate druggie and when I say I have to use your bathroom because my toilet is um, clogged I'm really EATING YOUR CHOCOLATE. You thought those brown smears in the bathroom were something else didn't you! I'm good at disguising these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ithinkwereallbozos.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kathi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; asked:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"How many sisters &amp;amp; brothers do you have and where are you in the birth order?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome! This is one that I don't have to think about. I have two sisters and two brothers. There are 5 of us total. (Like you hadn't figured that out!) I am the second child, the middle daughter, and the 2 boys bring up the rear. (So fitting for boys to bring up the rear:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://hellesbelles86.wordpress.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hellesbelles &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;asked:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"What's the deal with Peanut M &amp;amp; M's up your nose?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I'm telling you that you haven't lived until your face has been plastered in the local newspaper on your 30th Birthday with green M &amp;amp; M's up your nose. Yeah it's true! I am somewhat famous for that now and have even tried to add to my food/face stunts by stuffing Oreos in my eye sockets. I guess being poor, I've had to look to food as more than something to eat. It has to be entertainment too. Besides, M &amp;amp; M's up your nose adds a nice little salty flavor. YUM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm so nice that I answered a few bonus questions for you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Uh, hello! It's in Carmen, San Diego silly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"How much wood would a Woodchuck chuck if a Woodchuck could chuck would?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; About 700 pounds. Ah ha! You are impressed huh? Don't believe me? Well look &lt;a href="http://www.news.cornell.edu/Chronicle/96/2.1.96/facts.html"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt; I may (or may not) have cheated a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Addendum:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got another question!! Oh yeah it's true!&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://putsomepolkadotsonit.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jean Knee &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;asked:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Do you like the word crap? How about Wanker?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; As for crap, I use that in nearly 1/3 of all sentences that come out of my mouth. Hmmm Wanker? Now that sounds like a nice word doesn't it? I would have to say I haven't used that one but it has a nice ring to it:) I may have to add that to my limited vocab!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for playing along!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-8127934648201681450?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/8127934648201681450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=8127934648201681450&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/8127934648201681450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/8127934648201681450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/07/ill-give-it-to-you-straight.html' title='I&apos;ll Give It To You Straight'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5861671653745871706</id><published>2008-06-29T21:40:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T22:09:48.245-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crazy me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stuff about me'/><title type='text'>Amusement Park Amusement.</title><content type='html'>We all (my side of the family, including my cute parent's) went to an Amusement park on Saturday. I'm pretty sure a good time was had by all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure hope my face didn't look like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217515279653401026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SGhWgNXp8cI/AAAAAAAAAf0/yqfk3tCTwy0/s400/rollercoaster-face.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure it DID look like this !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217515281663924722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SGhWgU3AGfI/AAAAAAAAAf8/QWBGdQKlSZU/s400/rollercoaster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was just on the kiddie rides! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217519960385920434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SGhawqdQHbI/AAAAAAAAAgE/bWrLxv3QigE/s400/merrygoround" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ty-Ty's face looked a lot like this. . .actually, that is really him in this picture. He loved those crazy horses running around in circles on this ride. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;                                       In other News:      &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I've been tagged by &lt;a href="http://bustylaruesglitzandglam.blogspot.com/"&gt;Busty Larue&lt;/a&gt; and being the lamo that I am, I can't think of anything fun that you want to know about me. I am supposed to come up with SEVEN things ! *Sigh! What's a girl to do? Well, I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm leaving this up to you! What do you want to know about me? It's your chance to find out. Leave me a question in your comments and I will answer them. . . or not. . depends on if I want to or not. Sound fair? Now, I sure hope that I have SEVEN blog friends/family/lurkers/anyone. . Bueller? I hate to have to beg here so I won't. . . yet. But don't think I won't do it. I will if you bring me to it! So get asking!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5861671653745871706?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5861671653745871706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5861671653745871706&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5861671653745871706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5861671653745871706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/amusement-park-amusement.html' title='Amusement Park Amusement.'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SGhWgNXp8cI/AAAAAAAAAf0/yqfk3tCTwy0/s72-c/rollercoaster-face.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-9159237548884851600</id><published>2008-06-25T13:02:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T16:23:32.253-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I can&apos;t believe you just said that'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Say it aint so..I will not go'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wacky words'/><title type='text'>Weird Word Wednesday</title><content type='html'>In my quest to increase my limited vocabulary, I've decided to start "Weird Word Wednesday". Isn't it great when you can throw out some big obscure word that most people don't know? You can tell by the look on their faces that they are lost and confused but most likely they will NOT ask you to explain it. I love to get that look! Heaven knows I've given that look to enough people. Let's just say, I like to use and overuse the basic, simple, everyday words and mainly because THOSE are the words I know! Anyway, here's the word of the week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Absquatulate&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;(sounds like it's spelled - Ab-squat-u-late)&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 style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I thought it might mean&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: The fancy way that women hoover over a public toilet seat. "While &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;absquatulating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, my foot slipped and I peed on my shoe".&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;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;This word actually means:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; To make off, decamp or abscond&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;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A correct sentence would be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;: While in the bathroom, the lady in the next stall reached under and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;absquatulated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; with my toilet paper! That dirty witch!&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;Let's all see if we can use it in 10 conversations this week!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;p.s. This is a real word and was started in the 1930s, along with many other wacky words. Most of those words are no longer in American Dictionaries but this one is still found in some. Your welcome in advance!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-9159237548884851600?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/9159237548884851600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=9159237548884851600&amp;isPopup=true' title='86 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9159237548884851600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9159237548884851600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/weird-word-wednesday.html' title='Weird Word Wednesday'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>86</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-3216419100342073760</id><published>2008-06-22T20:59:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T21:45:05.320-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crazy me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Memories'/><title type='text'>Sappy Sentimental Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mine was a romance meeting that others only dream of&lt;/span&gt;. I never thought that I would meet the love of my life this way but it happened. It was a usual day for me. I was 17 years old and looking forward to my approaching high school graduation. Along with school and the various things associated with that, I was working at the retail powerhouse at that time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214908456833932658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SF8TnJnEXXI/AAAAAAAAAfk/TlnWnuTGiMo/s400/200px-Kmart_logo_old.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was feeling pretty powerful after being promoted from Register Operator, who found myself repeating "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TYFSOK&lt;/span&gt;" over and over as customers came through my line, to Register Supervisor, who kept those twits in line and reminded them to say "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;TYFSOK&lt;/span&gt;" (Thank You For Shopping Our Kmart- for those less fortunate who have NOT had the opportunity to work at Kmart). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Little did I know that this particular night would prove to be different.  There I was, being all cool and stuff and then I received a call from the Receiving Manager.  He was a goofy kind of guy with a bad perm and side burns.  He wore geeky shirts from the 70s it seemed and was a bit odd in my opinion.  He asked me if we were busy up front and I told him we were not.  He then asked me if I could send some help back to him.  He needed some people to mark merchandise and unload boxes.  His final words to me were "I would prefer if you sent some good looking girls back here. . . some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;blonde&lt;/span&gt; ones!".  Was I hearing him correctly?  When it all finally registered, I hung up on him!  How could he insult me like that?  I had now added JERK to the list of things I had previously thought of him.  I was (am) a brunette and I was NOT going to let that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;blonde&lt;/span&gt; bozo tell me that I was NOT good looking because I had dark hair!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Let's just say this relationship WASN'T love at first sight and we didn't exchange any nice words to each other until that fateful night when I didn't have a ride home from work.  He offered to take me home and so I went but ONLY because I was desperate to get home!  We talked on the way home and although I still thought he was goofy and weird, he was also pretty darn funny.  I remember arriving home, getting out of his truck quickly and telling my parent's that a goofy guy from work brought me home.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Little by little, his rides home from work became more frequent and his calls to me increased.  This time it wasn't for the cute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;blondes&lt;/span&gt; but to see how I was or if I could go out.  He was funny and charming and would do anything in the world for me.  I loved that we were so different from each other but we appreciated those differences.  We ended up dating for two years (while working at Kmart) before getting engaged.  Let's just say my husband Bob (nope, not his real name) was my &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Blue Light Special&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!  And I mean that in a good way!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214908455296536578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SF8TnD4hkAI/AAAAAAAAAfs/FNGxzCxFuyc/s400/kmartbluelight.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Who ever said you can't find anything good at Kmart?  Not me for sure. . .  No "Kmart Fall apart" here!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't ever say that I don't ever give you anything completely romantic and sappy.  This is as romantic as my life gets!  Enjoy it already dang it!  I'm not a writer.  I know that shocks 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/9101569426455006440-3216419100342073760?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/3216419100342073760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=3216419100342073760&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3216419100342073760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/3216419100342073760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/sappy-sentimental-sunday.html' title='Sappy Sentimental Sunday'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SF8TnJnEXXI/AAAAAAAAAfk/TlnWnuTGiMo/s72-c/200px-Kmart_logo_old.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5116251162274248698</id><published>2008-06-18T22:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T00:30:49.083-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My many talents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;ve officially lost it'/><title type='text'>So You Think You Can Dance?</title><content type='html'>Well obviously I do. Something crazy goes off inside of me on Wednesday nights as I find myself in a trance. I become completely glued to the TV and stuck to the couch for a two hour period, only to be freed during commercial breaks. And do you know what I'm watching? Well of course you do! I said it in the title silly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show fascinates me, it intrigues me and it causes me to all of the sudden become the judge and the dancer all in one. I can always do the dance better in my head and no matter what, I have the best opinion of how the dance actually came off by the dancers. I figure I'm qualified for the title of judge AND dancer. Just a few short years ago. . . OK! I'll quit lying if you quit snickering! It's been maybe more than a few years ago. Maybe it was in excess of 20? Well, lets say it seems like yesterday when I was on the high school Drill Team and in the Advanced Dance Club. I spent a good portion of my day with Jazz hands. After high school, I was on the local college dance team. And for those of you that are REALLY old like me, I was able to learn some technique from "&lt;em&gt;Fame"&lt;/em&gt; dancers in California. I know! I'm so cool that you are glad you know me now huh!. . . . . or not. . . don't say in your little youngster voice "But I don't know who the Fame dancers are!" You probably don't remember &lt;em&gt;"Solid Gold"&lt;/em&gt; either I'm taking it? Well GOOGLE it already will you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm figuring all this dancing qualifies me doesn't it? Let's just say, it's not easy to sit with me while the show is on because I'm pointing out everything I like and don't like. And then let's just say that when a commercial comes on my body starts convulsing in some crazy dance moves. Oh, just ask my family. . . OK don't! But I spent years and years boring them and embarrassing them with my impromptu dance moves when certain songs came on. No where and nobody was safe! Unfortunately, now my children are now subject to this wild dancing that comes out on Wednesday nights. I had just finished watching last weeks dancing with my 12 year old son when I decided to go get my hubby and go for a walk. So I got up and started walking to the front door. For some crazy reason, I had the sudden urge to do a great big leap right then and there. I took a couple of running steps and thrust my right leg out. I could picture it in my head and it was beautiful! I had my arms outstretched and my toes pointed and in perfect split position.I was floating! While I was picturing this in my head ,I touched down from my leap.  But instead of coming down softly and on the ball of my foot, I came down flat footed in a BIG THUD !! I swear the house shook a little. My body shook a LOT. I stopped and looked back at my now horrified son and after a short pause he said "Well that was weird!". . . . I'm guessing he wasn't impressed.  No &lt;em&gt;"Hot Tamale Train"&lt;/em&gt; for me this week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looks like I will need a few more practices before I can try-out for the show it seems. Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5116251162274248698?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5116251162274248698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5116251162274248698&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5116251162274248698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5116251162274248698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/so-you-think-you-can-dance.html' title='So You Think You Can Dance?'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6655144539128822317</id><published>2008-06-16T15:34:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T16:05:51.826-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crazy me'/><title type='text'>We Interrupt This Blog For Some Breaking News.</title><content type='html'>LOOK WHAT I GOT! Oh yeah, it's all for me baby! What? You can't seem to figure out why I got this because I put you to sleep? Well, I did and I got it from none other than queen &lt;a href="http://www.lolaagain.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lola &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;herself. And who knows you better than your own sister?? Nobody I say!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SFbcovf7ywI/AAAAAAAAAfU/FIs0FrWs7p0/s1600-h/laugh_award.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212596211231214338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SFbcovf7ywI/AAAAAAAAAfU/FIs0FrWs7p0/s400/laugh_award.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Thanks &lt;a href="http://www.lolaagain.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lola&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; for saying I make you laugh, when you could have given me the "You make me vomit" award or the "You are a pain in my rump" award or many others.  &lt;a href="http://lolaagain.blogspot.com/2008/06/she-works-hard-for-funny.html"&gt;And like you said when you awarded me this,&lt;/a&gt; I am not funny in person if I'm funny on my blog.  And when I'm funny in person, I can't be funny on the blog.  I do this for a reason.  You see, I have to pace myself.  It's just not good to have too much funny in your life. Yeah, it's true! There are just not enough undies in my stash to keep laughing at myself 24/7. Oh really, I do find myself completely funny and I just have to let it out in drips, or drops or dribbles or droplets. None of this "Here I am being a complete cartoon for you all to enjoy" gushing out all day and night. You would take it for granted and so you get all the other sides of me to enjoy too. . . or not. You choose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told ONCE that I should have been a comedian. I know you find it odd that somebody in the field of Accounting could EVER be THAT funny. Well, I guess you would have to consider the source that suggested such craziness. He was an auditor. You get what I'm saying? Go figure! I think I'll stick to random funny and bean counting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Lola! I hope that a hundred dollars was enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I need to pass this award on and here are some folks I find completely amusing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jill from &lt;a href="http://andimeanit.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thou shalt Not Whine&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;keeps me in stitches with all the things her kids say and do! It just reminds me so much of when my kids were little. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Awww&lt;/span&gt;, sweet memories. . wait, I still have kids at home! What am I thinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alice at &lt;a href="http://elegantthimble.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Honey Pie&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;is a real character and it is only recently that I have been hooked on her blog. We met through a sexy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; exchange and boy does she know how to pick great &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt;! I get a kick out of how and what she writes on her blog! (plus, we have some things in common:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally &lt;a href="http://rowenasrantings.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rowena's Rantings&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;is a great blog. I look forward to checking out her blog and find that she is very entertaining! She also has an adorable new baby, which I would steal from her if I knew where to find her. (Just teasing, I'm not a stalker like that but he is very cute:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-6655144539128822317?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6655144539128822317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6655144539128822317&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6655144539128822317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6655144539128822317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/we-interrupt-this-blog-for-some.html' title='We Interrupt This Blog For Some Breaking News.'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SFbcovf7ywI/AAAAAAAAAfU/FIs0FrWs7p0/s72-c/laugh_award.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4402221942598776505</id><published>2008-06-13T14:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T18:20:28.292-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;ve officially lost it'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oops I did it again'/><title type='text'>Alzheimers And Outbursts</title><content type='html'>So you may remember my last post. . .I'm glad you do because I have forgot it already. Let me see, oh yeah! I had an apparent and unidentifiable outburst when my road rage reared it's ugly head the other day. That outburst involved me calling the other driver "Dickweed" as my hubby carried on a phone conversation with a leader in our Church Ward. It wasn't until I read the comments from that post that the source of such a "D" outburst from my mouth came to light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, it was probably only a week earlier that my sister &lt;a href="http://pocketsofposies.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Angel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; had told me about a funny experience she had happen. She is in charge of having activities for pre-teen girls from church. In this group there are a couple of sisters, who's parents are quite religious. One of the girls blurted out her sorrow to Angel over the loss of Angel's son &lt;a href="http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/03/in-memory-of-colton-ray-stewart-1992.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Colton.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The other sister gave the loud mouth a quick nasty kick under the table and a glare indicating that they weren't supposed to say anything! After a moment of awkwardness, the girls suggested to Angel that they knew just how she felt. They had ALSO suffered a loss. They continued with &lt;em&gt;"Yeah, our Grandma's cat Dickweed died and we had to lay him to rest too!"&lt;/em&gt; This revelation didn't stop with saying the beloved cat's name just once and they managed to say Dickweed over and over as they discussed Grandma's cat. Never once did they change the expression to indicate they thought the name was funny, vulgar, crude, silly or anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angel imagines the girls parents would probably FREAK at the thought of the conversation that ensued if they only knew. And way to go granny for pushing the envelope and corrupting the youth without them even knowing! As for me? Yeah, my Alzheimer's had apparently already taken over and I had forgot the funny story but somehow in my head retained that great word! I have selective Alzheimer's and I keep the good stuff stored up there somewhere for a moment like that! Yep, I can rattle off a bunch of funny stories about bodily functions and other useless crap like that. (no pun intended:)  Ask me anything with substance and I have to plead the fifth. . . only because I can't come up with a darn thing. I may just get frustrated and call you some crazy name. . . only to then question where THAT came from and start this whole crazy process over again! *Sigh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-4402221942598776505?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4402221942598776505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4402221942598776505&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4402221942598776505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4402221942598776505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/alzheimers-and-outbursts.html' title='Alzheimers And Outbursts'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5564422323858127986</id><published>2008-06-10T19:43:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T13:33:13.520-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;ve officially lost it'/><title type='text'>I Need Some Physical &amp; Mental Conditioning!</title><content type='html'>Do you ever have one of those days where you've completely lost it? I mean, you are still able to function but when you do it's sub par? As I sit and look over the events of the last several hours I have come to the conclusion that I need some work! I know that I'm getting old and all and that my physical strength is most likely going a bit but does my mental/emotional state have to go to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started with a trip to the store. Kitty and I decided that we needed to run to Walmart to pick up a few things. I was in need of cleaning supplies and such (because I LOVE to clean. . . nope there was NO sarcasm in that either:) and Kitty was looking for a baby present for a co-worker. I realized when we were there that our BIG dog Rocky was almost out of dog food. And although that is something my hubby usually picked up, I would save him the trip, since I was there. Getting the 50 pound bag of Ol' Roy in the bottom of the cart was a bit of a challenge, but we managed. Getting the 50 pound bag OUT from the bottom of the cart and into the back of our van proved to be a LOT more challenging. There we were, the two of us. The wind was blowing wildly and we had to hang on to the cart as we pulled the bag out. It required the two of us to bend clear down to grasp it which caused Kitty's pants to slide down a bit in the back and thus exposing crack for all to see. With her announcement of her backside being exposed, along with the wind and the shear heaviness of the bag, I began to laugh loudly and uncontrollably. I got laughing so hard we couldn't get the bag in the Van. This only made me laugh harder and to the point that I thought I would wet myself. Oh, have you ever tried to lift something in that condition? You have? You haven't?. . . .You liar! We all have. . . haven't we? Anyway, we FINALLY got Ol' Roy in and were able to go on our way. I was grateful that innocent bystanders were only exposed to Kitty's crack and not me wetting myself. Fortunately our hair had blown over our faces and so they didn't know who we were!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skip ahead a few hours and me and hubby were coming home from the Pharmacy. He was on the phone talking to a leader from our Church as he was driving. Now I am not normally one to have road rage and he is more likely to say something or do something but he was on the phone. Well a stupid driver cut us off and then completely stopped his car in front of us, with his left blinker on, and didn't move into the turn lane. I couldn't just do NOTHING could I?. . . OH, I could? Well I didn't. I leaned over my hubby and pressed my hand firmly on the horn. As I was doing this I loudly yelled "&lt;em&gt;Move out of the way Dickweed&lt;/em&gt;!" Sorry for your sensitive ears but I really said that. I didn't realize what I had done until I looked over and saw my hubby looking at me in horror as he continued to carry on his phone conversation. At that point I started laughing like crazy. So hard I started gasping for air! He finished his conversation like nothing had happened and I continued to go mad with loud laughter in the background. I am not sure if the guy heard what went on and my hubby wasn't about to ask him. I am sure the hubby will eventually find out what the innocent Church friend heard. He will probably go on to tell him that I am always yelling out like that and what he heard was actually mild. Yeah Right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I am sitting here thinking that I need to work on a few things. . . OK, a LOT of things but who's counting. . besides me. . . and probably you. Don't worry! I'll get to them. But first I need to go see if I can get that dog food OUT of the Van now and then go kick the dog or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. don't ask me where that D word came from. Hubby and I tried to analyze that on the way home afterwards and all we could come up with was that I confused it with Dillweed. You buying? It's the best I could do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5564422323858127986?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5564422323858127986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5564422323858127986&amp;isPopup=true' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5564422323858127986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5564422323858127986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-need-some-physical-mental.html' title='I Need Some Physical &amp; Mental Conditioning!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-9074158256140644167</id><published>2008-06-08T21:05:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T21:40:27.715-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mission'/><title type='text'>Out Of Africa. . . .</title><content type='html'>These two cute people came home to us! HURRAY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfPJ92bEI/AAAAAAAAAes/bA2qfZLI5k4/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209713951683013698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfPJ92bEI/AAAAAAAAAes/bA2qfZLI5k4/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sorry about the quality of this picture but the camera isn't good with moving objects and it seems that Dad hasn't stopped moving since arriving home. Hubby clicked this picture at the&lt;br /&gt;airport as we mauled them when they got down the escalator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfPvPfZaI/AAAAAAAAAe0/1CgZgsK6J3c/s1600-h/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209713961689114018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfPvPfZaI/AAAAAAAAAe0/1CgZgsK6J3c/s400/019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is Mom and she likes to have her picture taken. The day they arrived home (at 12:05 a.m.) we came to their house and spent the entire day as a family. I think that Mom was attempting to duck out and have a moment of peace in the laundry room when this pic was snapped. Sorry Mom, you are stuck with us. . . following you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfP8gHh_I/AAAAAAAAAe8/-Wgafv5JEjg/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209713965248514034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfP8gHh_I/AAAAAAAAAe8/-Wgafv5JEjg/s400/023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The men cooked a big breakfast for us all and it was great! Here is Dad again and he's a blur because once again he is moving. Does the man ever stop you ask? I haven't seen it yet! I'll keep you posted when he does:) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfQdOHBeI/AAAAAAAAAfE/CD9OU4pHkM8/s1600-h/069.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209713974031353314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfQdOHBeI/AAAAAAAAAfE/CD9OU4pHkM8/s400/069.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mom is showing off another darling dress she had made for her in Africa. Although it looks like she is alone, the lawn was actually packed with people for their return party today. It was quite the fun shindig and finally a great day to enjoy the outdoors:)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfRPFgmoI/AAAAAAAAAfM/pPDBqogG0ag/s1600-h/067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209713987417053826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfRPFgmoI/AAAAAAAAAfM/pPDBqogG0ag/s400/067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And here we are all giddy with joy. We're Just a small sampling of those who were anxious for their safe arrival back home to us! Me and Bob (hubby) are wearing really cool African attire they brought back. Kitty was also sporting her African dress at church but managed to sneak away after and quickly change, while the party was going on. I thought this was a picture of just me and Bob until I loaded the pics onto the computer and low and behold, there was Kitty. . . Darn kid!  I'm sure my parent's NEVER said that about me;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-9074158256140644167?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/9074158256140644167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=9074158256140644167&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9074158256140644167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/9074158256140644167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/out-of-africa.html' title='Out Of Africa. . . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEyfPJ92bEI/AAAAAAAAAes/bA2qfZLI5k4/s72-c/009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4606462316270712491</id><published>2008-06-03T12:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T12:45:32.753-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Got Hot Sox And I Cannot Lie.  You Other Swappers Can't Deny. . .</title><content type='html'>Uh, that's all I've got for my fab &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SOX&lt;/span&gt; song but I have to tell you I HIT THE &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SOX&lt;/span&gt; JACKPOT!  No kidding.  I really got the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mother load&lt;/span&gt; with this sweet package of goodies from &lt;a href="http://elegantthimble.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alice&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;!  If any of you had previously read &lt;a href="http://elegantthimble.blogspot.com/"&gt;Alice's blog&lt;/a&gt;, she mentioned some really awesome &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; she was trying to score from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ebay&lt;/span&gt;. .Well, she did and I have them.  You will have to hold your horses though because they will be the grand finale after all the other sweet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; I'm wearing are viewed.  Oh yeah, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; my own modeling so don't mock the legs or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;cankles&lt;/span&gt; as Alice would say.  I'm white and have old lady legs.  What more can I say?  I'm just glad I have some great &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; to distract you from them:)&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207720420527080546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEWKIXsQhGI/AAAAAAAAAeM/JAOAtmEnAGA/s400/025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;First we have these knockout &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; that come clear to my knee and hide all calf (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;cankle&lt;/span&gt;) flaws.  They are adorned with pink and white stripes and fancy Sea Horses down the side.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ahhhh&lt;/span&gt; aren't they great?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207720428382915682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEWKI09PDGI/AAAAAAAAAeU/kIfMqiYMDV0/s400/026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The next &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; are equally as fancy &amp;amp; fun and yet completely different.  They sport a mid-calf look and have pink polka dots and frogs.  I love how my fat legs make the frogs spread out even bigger!  Pretty cool huh? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207720441425798210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEWKJli5pEI/AAAAAAAAAek/bwJtPiDDkR4/s400/033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you are looking for comfort with a little bit of Donny Osmond Flare, don't forget these beauties.  They are SO SOFT and black with a Oh so fancy purple fuzzy trim along the top.  Oh, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; like these make me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;purrrrrrr&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207720432132710578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEWKJC7QYLI/AAAAAAAAAec/COqKKPZUyzM/s400/032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Next we have some more knee high sexy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt;.  I know!  I told you I got a LOT of great &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt;! These are a fancy hot pink (which is one of my favorite colors) with a little light pink for extra coolness.  I thought I would attempt to point my toes to see if it slimmed my leg any. . . Nope!  Those dancer legs are gone forever I'm afraid!  Anyway, you may just see me at church with some of these fancy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; with my dress.  Don't you think it would be styling?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                          &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;AND FINALLY. . . FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;                                        THE WORLD FAMOUS &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;SOX&lt;/span&gt; SCORED BY THE ONE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;                                        AND ONLY ALICE THE GREAT.  I PRESENT. . . . . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEWKILx4FkI/AAAAAAAAAeE/mt2H6Z4wNwI/s1600-h/034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207720417329419842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEWKILx4FkI/AAAAAAAAAeE/mt2H6Z4wNwI/s400/034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; STAR WARS SOCK TOPS!!  Aren't they completely and ridiculously the coolest things?&lt;br /&gt;I swear I'm gonna REALLY go running now.  I just needed the Star Wars &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Sox&lt;/span&gt; Tops to get me&lt;br /&gt;going!!  I'm thinking these were for a kid because I REALLY couldn't get them up any higher and I REALLY distorted the whole Star Wars scene with my legs.  Sorry!  I included the sock not on my leg for your better viewing pleasure. . . your welcome.  I'm just sorry you have had to be subjected to my leg for so long.  BUT it was totally worth it right for these &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks again&lt;a href="http://elegantthimble.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Alice&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;!  You are the best!  And thank you &lt;a href="http://www.smilinginfidel.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Elasticwaistbandlady&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;for putting this fun swap all together!  You are the best too. . . in my world there are TWO bests OK?  Let's just go with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                      THE END!!   Oh yeah, my parent's are almost in the good ole U.S.A as I&lt;br /&gt;type and I can finally reveal (because they won't see this) that we have done a make-over on their house!!  They will be so surprised!  I can't wait to see them and so for now I say CHOW and I will get back to working on house &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;surprises&lt;/span&gt;. . . only a few hours left:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-4606462316270712491?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4606462316270712491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4606462316270712491&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4606462316270712491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4606462316270712491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-got-hot-sox-and-i-cannot-lie-you.html' title='I Got Hot Sox And I Cannot Lie.  You Other Swappers Can&apos;t Deny. . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEWKIXsQhGI/AAAAAAAAAeM/JAOAtmEnAGA/s72-c/025.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-1310413315520759590</id><published>2008-05-30T09:10:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T09:41:11.899-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Puppy'/><title type='text'>It Was A Crappy Way To Start My Day</title><content type='html'>Is this why they call it the dog days of Summer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEAZkpDn-KI/AAAAAAAAAd8/981AsBkCjDM/s1600-h/calvincartoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206189286527334562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEAZkpDn-KI/AAAAAAAAAd8/981AsBkCjDM/s400/calvincartoon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I didn't have my child do this today but I did end up with dog poop on my carpet. It was in a "S" shaped, long trail of ball poops right to my bedside. I guess I had it coming because Beaux (our dog) has been eating really random things. He seems to eat everything BUT dog food these days. I have found him chewing toilet paper (his fav) or tinfoil (go figure?) and most anything he can get his little teeth into. He's like my walking dumpster. . . well, more like shredder as he eats part of whatever it is and shreds the rest across the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was all fun and games until he became constipated. It was a bit sad (yet comical) to watch Beaux in his "got to poo" stance for 10-15 minutes at a time. It was all to no avail! I couldn't let this go on all day. . or could I? So  I read online that if you give them milk it will help loosen things up and so I did. I had to throw in some cereal to get him to touch it though. Last night I remembered that wet dog food seemed to give him the &lt;em&gt;cha- chas&lt;/em&gt; and so I gave him some of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I overloaded his system and he so kindly unloaded on my floor. . . Guess I had that coming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-1310413315520759590?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/1310413315520759590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=1310413315520759590&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/1310413315520759590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/1310413315520759590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/it-was-crappy-way-to-start-my-day.html' title='It Was A Crappy Way To Start My Day'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SEAZkpDn-KI/AAAAAAAAAd8/981AsBkCjDM/s72-c/calvincartoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6026641211485903123</id><published>2008-05-28T16:41:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T17:00:21.565-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>Who Really Got This Stuff Anyway?</title><content type='html'>I think this answer is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;brilliant&lt;/span&gt;!  Wish I had thought of that instead of spending hours trying to REALLY find X during an exam.  And who really cares where X is?  I didn't then and I still don't! I'm a college graduate in Accounting and I have yet the need to find X!  Go figure:). . . . Oh, just a figure of speech.  You don't really have to go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SD3f9ZDn-HI/AAAAAAAAAdk/Terei4ghagA/s1600-h/funny-math-test-answer1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205562990101264498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SD3f9ZDn-HI/AAAAAAAAAdk/Terei4ghagA/s400/funny-math-test-answer1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the creativity of some people.  I think Peter should have got 100% on this one given that it was so vague.  Who knew they wanted a different expansion!  I still hate all that stuff, even though my whole background is math.  IT'S the EASY stuff I do!  I think Peter didn't do well in this class, what do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SD3f9pDn-II/AAAAAAAAAds/CSWxUbt_HTs/s1600-h/funny-math-test-answer2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205562994396231810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SD3f9pDn-II/AAAAAAAAAds/CSWxUbt_HTs/s400/funny-math-test-answer2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This last one is hard to see but I remember feeling this way so many times during an exam where one little problem turned into a HUGE ordeal to solve.  Is there a point to this madness or do they really want you to consider suicide by the end of the page?  I often wondered that myself.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SD3f95Dn-JI/AAAAAAAAAd0/boDrnv42s7E/s1600-h/funny-math-test-answer3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205562998691199122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SD3f95Dn-JI/AAAAAAAAAd0/boDrnv42s7E/s400/funny-math-test-answer3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;School for my kids is officially over tomorrow.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;YIPEE&lt;/span&gt;!  Wait. . . did I just say that?  OK, it all sounds good and fun right now but ask me next week.  Ask me when all of my bright ideas for putting them to work to get organized fail.  Ask me when they have been in my face all day long every day without a break.  Then ask me after I have had to break up 5 fights, clean up a BIGGER mess now that they are home more and ask me when they have eaten everything I bought at the grocery store in one day.  Ask me then. . . tomorrow.&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/9101569426455006440-6026641211485903123?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6026641211485903123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6026641211485903123&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6026641211485903123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6026641211485903123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/who-really-got-this-stuff-anyway.html' title='Who Really Got This Stuff Anyway?'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SD3f9ZDn-HI/AAAAAAAAAdk/Terei4ghagA/s72-c/funny-math-test-answer1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4274926381035224878</id><published>2008-05-25T15:46:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T17:40:25.941-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crazy me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Flower Arranging'/><title type='text'>Waiting To Exhale. .  .Ready To Let My Hair Down!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;SURPRISE!! &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I'M BACK!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you completely shocked that I posted? You missed me didn't you? Oh, don't try to deny it. I know you and I could just hear you saying "When is that darn Diana going to get off her butt &amp;amp; post a new/lame post? I seriously haven't had my fix of lame reads this week! Where is she?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well, I would like to say that I was on some really cool and relaxing vacation or that I was shopping like a mad woman and treating myself to every luxury a woman could want. Truth be told, I was REALLY BUSY! OH, not that fun kind of busy either! It was work kind of busy and not anything blog worthy to write about and so I spared you the additional suffering. Only because I'm nice like that. Oh, don't cry for me Argentina because I lived through it. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What was I busy with you ask? Why thanks for pretending to care! You really do don't you? OK, then I will tell you. Between working like crazy at our floral in preparation for all the mass Memorial Day flowers, I had to watch the final of American Idol. . . That took a bit out of my life. And then I had to finish my shopping and send off my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sox&lt;/span&gt; for the &lt;a href="http://www.smilinginfidel.com/"&gt;exchange&lt;/a&gt; put on by the one and only &lt;a href="http://www.smilinginfidel.com/"&gt;Smiling Infidel. &lt;/a&gt;And of course, I had to throw "Mom duties" in there somewhere! All in all, I am feeling like it's about time to let my hair down!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The big Floral holidays are officially over until Winter and with taxes behind us for the year, I just feel like FINALLY doing a happy dance. What's that you say? You want to see such a dance? OH, no you don't want to see that! You would be deeply scarred for life. You have never seen things jiggle so much and look so darn stupid at the same time. It's disturbing.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;IN UPDATES: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(because I know you are dying to know what is happening in my life)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;My fabulous parents (well I hope they are still fab:) have only a little over a week before leaving their&lt;a href="http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-cute-missionary-parents-in-africa.html"&gt; 22 month mission in Liberia, Africa &lt;/a&gt;to come home to us!! Let's all shout it "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;YIPEE&lt;/span&gt;!" . . . Thanks! I can hardly wait to see them! I have missed them dearly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;My hubby (Bob) and his &lt;a href="http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-will-he-come-up-with-next.html"&gt;knife business &lt;/a&gt;aren't really doing much. He has sold probably 20 knives and that leaves us with a family room stocked with a mere 280 now! WOW! He is kicking butt on this venture! NOT! Let's not discuss it further, it's a sore spot with us right now and he has to keep the knives out of my reach or else!. . . Oh, you didn't think I was serious did you? Now if anything happens to poor Bob, I had absolutely NOTHING to do with it! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hee&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hee&lt;/span&gt;! I'm JOKING people!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Remember my &lt;a href="http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-failed-attempt-to-summer-up-my.html"&gt;burn?&lt;/a&gt; After 10 days of hobbling around with much pain and it only getting worse, I finally gave in and went to the doc. He said it was a bit infected and took care of that (OUCH) and then gave me some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Silvadene&lt;/span&gt; to put on it. It worked great the first day and now it is really infected! YIKES! I would seriously post a picture because I am gross like that but my daughter Kitty told me that it almost made her throw up. I'm not about inducing such behaviors and want you to keep your breakfast/lunch/dinner down, whatever it may be! Just know, it's gross. Needless to say I will be giving away all my Daisy Duke shorts and swimsuits as I will have a nasty scar glaring off my leg for all to see. OH, and don't ask to have my hand-me-down shorts because I was only kidding people! I don't own any:D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of the burn story is don't do anything nice for anyone else. It will save you MUCH pain! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;! You have heard that "No good deed goes unpunished" haven't you? Like I said. Keep the charitable stuff to yourself! OK, don't! It's still worth the pain:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A WONDERFUL MEMORIAL DAY! AND HERE'S TO FUN &amp;amp; EXCITING DAYS TO COME:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-4274926381035224878?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4274926381035224878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4274926381035224878&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4274926381035224878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4274926381035224878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/waiting-to-exhale-ready-to-let-my-hair.html' title='Waiting To Exhale. .  .Ready To Let My Hair Down!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-4851169887776438293</id><published>2008-05-19T10:26:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T11:04:02.958-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Look!  I Scored Me A Choir Boy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;You know&lt;/span&gt; how there are certain things in life&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that are near and dear to your heart and you try to persuade your kids to feel the same way? (sometimes with force! hee hee) Well, that has been me with singing. I have always loved to sing. (mostly in my car) But I was in a choir group in High School and we performed all over and I loved it. From then on I have been hooked! (kind of like hooked on phonics but not:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that you can't make your kids be exactly what you were or force them to love and be involved in what you were. But it sure is a nice treat when they decide that it's a good thing on their own! Right here is evidence as to why Mom is glowing at the present time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202127848722155890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SDGrt2NASXI/AAAAAAAAAdE/z4Va9E9uZ4M/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Nope, mine isn't the girly ones sitting there but is my handsome (and might I add talented singer) Al-Pal ! I really hadn't thought of my Al-Pal as the choir boy type and not even the singing type for that matter. You see, he is VERY shy and a bit more so than any of my kids. My oldest two had not expressed much interest in singing and so why would he. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;BUT (and yes I have a big butt, thanks for reminding me) my amazingly talented cousin Leslie, who is also a Mormon Tabernacle Choir member, offered to let her sweet cousins join her choir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202127857312090498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SDGruWNASYI/AAAAAAAAAdM/MTXRXBwCPS0/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here we are ( me, Bob &amp;amp; Ty-Ty) at the choir concert Saturday.(Notice that my two oldest aren't there) Boy was I shocked and amazed when those kids opened their mouths to sing! They were really great! My cousin can work miracles it seems:)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202127865902025106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SDGru2NASZI/AAAAAAAAAdU/QSRlH6yuy6Y/s400/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Also in the choir were my sister Lola's two daughters and some other cousins of ours. I could hardly believe my eyes when I looked over at Al Pal and he was not just mouthing the words but full on singing with expression on his face and everything! What did she do with my boy? He was darling and animated and like he had transformed into something I have never seen! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Needless to say, he loves choir and can't wait until they begin practice again in the fall. I've scored me a choir boy! I've got a singer! Yipee!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202127870196992418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SDGrvGNASaI/AAAAAAAAAdc/Z5fkheEgxJI/s400/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Unfortunately, Ty-Ty didn't find the choir to be all that exciting and we snapped this pic just as it ended. The funny thing is that he RARELY takes naps! It's just not his thing. . . until you completely bore him to sleep. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Something tells me that he probably won't be a choir boy!&lt;/strong&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/9101569426455006440-4851169887776438293?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/4851169887776438293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=4851169887776438293&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4851169887776438293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/4851169887776438293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/look-i-scored-me-choir-boy.html' title='Look!  I Scored Me A Choir Boy!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SDGrt2NASXI/AAAAAAAAAdE/z4Va9E9uZ4M/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-908835906729593573</id><published>2008-05-16T12:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T13:02:20.190-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Do I Always. . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;* Plan to start a diet every Monday, only to have failed shortly after Breakfast. At which point I can't start a diet mid-day or mid-week and so I figure I have to wait again until the next Monday? (story of my life)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Arrive home from work on Saturday and assume that my hubby and kids will have the house looking somewhat clean?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Wait to buy clothing for myself until I lose that extra 10 pounds? (still don't have any clothes)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Write a huge list of "things to do" each day which is way more than any human can possibly get done and then get mad at myself when I've only checked off part of the list.? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Think that my husband will notice my hair cut or color?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Put off grocery shopping until there are mere crumbs in the house to eat?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Eat too much and then tell myself and everyone around NOT to let me do that again, only to turn right around and snork down another big meal?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Cut my hair off, grow it out, cut my hair off, grow it out. . . .?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Face my dollar bills in my wallet?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Scratch my head like crazy when I'm stressed?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Feel the need to giggle continually when I'm in some quiet place?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Think I'm going to start drinking water, only to begin and end my day with Diet Coke only? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(plus the 10 I drink in between)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Forget whether I have taken ibuprofen &amp;amp; ask around only to be informed that I took some 2 minutes ago and that is why the bottle is in my hand?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Call my kids by the wrong name every time?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Have to be the Mom to my kids? . . . Oh wait. . . I am the Mom:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-908835906729593573?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/908835906729593573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=908835906729593573&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/908835906729593573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/908835906729593573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/why-do-i-always.html' title='Why Do I Always. . . .'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-8737042376066374361</id><published>2008-05-14T21:14:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T21:53:35.345-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Did I Mention I Have TWO Creative Sisters?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's true! I have two sisters and I'm the sandwich sister&lt;/span&gt;. My older sis is &lt;a href="http://pocketsofposies.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Angel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and my younger sister is &lt;a href="http://www.lolaagain.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lola&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. They are like the creative, fancy bookends to a boring book in the middle! ( I think it's like an accounting book. . . yep, boring!) I have previously displayed some of the cool gifts I have acquired from Lola and today I'm showing off this fab piece of jewelry that Angel made for me. It's a highly coveted piece and everyone at Church was clawing to get at it! You should have witnessed the horror of it all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200438397566470466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCurK2NASUI/AAAAAAAAAcs/TRYGX-x8mes/s400/001.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, the horror was really when a large spider crawled across the room and freaked MANY women out. It came over by me and you know what I did? I got the heal of my shoe and right in the middle of singing "All Creatures Of Our God &amp;amp; King", I squashed that spider as everyone looked on. (we weren't really singing that at the time, but it sounds funnier that way so I felt compelled to lie) Anyway, back to the jewelry. There is no doubt that the women wanted it! This bracelet has darling charms adorning it &amp;amp; there is even an Angel on one end in memory of Colton, Angel's son. Don't you just love it? I do! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately (or fortunate for me) she will not be selling these beauties because they would cost a million dollars!. . .OK, maybe only a thousand or something. I know she spent a lot on the charms and since she loves me so much I'm sure it was close to a thousand at least! Well, we can pretend anyway, but they still are too expensive to sell so I feel privileged to have a possible "one of a kind" from Angel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCurMWNASWI/AAAAAAAAAc8/4EqyrnqFpT4/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200438423336274274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCurMWNASWI/AAAAAAAAAc8/4EqyrnqFpT4/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;Sorry, I'm not a good hand model but life is hard like that! BUT stay tuned because one of these days I'm gonna shock you (and me both) with some crafty thing I have created! Oh, you had better believe it! I have to have a creative bone in this body somewhere! (I think it's my femur) I can't have a creative Mom &amp;amp; be sandwiched between two creative sisters without SOME of those juices rubbing off on me can I? Maybe those juices are just sweat and nothing creative. . . I guess we will find out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-8737042376066374361?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/8737042376066374361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=8737042376066374361&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/8737042376066374361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/8737042376066374361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/did-i-mention-i-have-two-creative.html' title='Did I Mention I Have TWO Creative Sisters?'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCurK2NASUI/AAAAAAAAAcs/TRYGX-x8mes/s72-c/001.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-7117821210497772279</id><published>2008-05-12T21:02:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T14:06:33.302-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Failed Attempt To Get That Summer Glow!</title><content type='html'>Can you identify the picture? It's just my searing flesh is all. It will be OK. Just give me a few hours to make the throbbing stop and I will pop those blisters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199955845105862962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCn0SmNASTI/AAAAAAAAAck/co0VEEZUKOk/s320/002.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are like me (which I'm sure you are not completely like me because there can't be this many freaks on the planet:) you like to have a little (or a lot) of color on your skin for the summer. I would preferably like tan to be that color but with my albino, florescent skin, I usually end up pink, red or sometimes purplish. Well, I will tell you right now that this method is NOT a good one for gaining a brownish tint to your skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I was doing a good deed for a family in need. (you like my nice poem there? It's all I have so anyway). OK, so the family wasn't really all that in need but they are moving and we all know what a pain that can be so I made dinner for them. Besides that, they are really good friends. Anyway, I decided to put a little EXTRA sweet &amp;amp; sour sauce in the chicken. This would have been all fine and dandy but I kind of forgot that it was quite full in the hot pan and I decided to hold it as my husband drove us to our friend's home. Well, Bob (hubby) hit a bump and I felt this terrible pain on my thigh. The hot molten lava sauce had spilled out about the size of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cantaloupe&lt;/span&gt; on my leg. Bob happened to be on his cellphone at the time talking to his Dad and he didn't seem to skip a word or miss a breath in his conversation, even though I was literally screaming out in pain. He was kind enough to pull over to the side of the road. . . and finish his conversation. Wow! Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, we turned the vehicle around and headed back home where I found my thigh looking like this. Cool trick huh? Actually, it wasn't cool but was very hot! What I thought was totally amazing was that I didn't swear once when this happened. . . maybe because Bob was on the phone. You can tell I'm not going to let him live this down too quickly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you worry, I managed to get dinner to the family and I also got online to find out how to treat this burn. Of course, that was after I put an ice pack on it and apparently that is NOT the thing to do for a second degree burn! Who knew? Not me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time I am looking for something besides white on my skin, I think I'll just take a simple sunburn. Those seem to hurt a lot less !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-7117821210497772279?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7117821210497772279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=7117821210497772279&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7117821210497772279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7117821210497772279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-failed-attempt-to-summer-up-my.html' title='Another Failed Attempt To Get That Summer Glow!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCn0SmNASTI/AAAAAAAAAck/co0VEEZUKOk/s72-c/002.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5923295110297618171</id><published>2008-05-08T08:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T09:48:40.944-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Trunky</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCMKwKYHEhI/AAAAAAAAAcU/U1HU5Kiv1PM/s1600-h/noname"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198010217451164178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCMKwKYHEhI/AAAAAAAAAcU/U1HU5Kiv1PM/s400/noname?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; This is my hubby Bob. See Bob's legs hanging out of the car trunk? I guess he resorted to the trunk since we don't have an available doghouse;) Actually, last night Bob was so kindly trying to help daughter Kitty get speakers in her car and she snapped this picture to make fun, laugh and loudly mock him. Now that's true love!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy 21st Anniversary Bob! although it has seemed like forever:) Kidding. May you find your way out of the trunk so we can celebrate many more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&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/9101569426455006440-5923295110297618171?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5923295110297618171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5923295110297618171&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5923295110297618171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5923295110297618171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/little-trunky.html' title='A Little Trunky'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCMKwKYHEhI/AAAAAAAAAcU/U1HU5Kiv1PM/s72-c/noname?SSImageQuality=Full' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-7404527510602041088</id><published>2008-05-06T21:12:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T22:04:09.167-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Yeah, I'm Watching My Weight Alright!</title><content type='html'>I keep having nightmares that my 4 pound dog (who sleeps with me) is going to end up somewhere like this! EEEEEKK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCEf9f2mwSI/AAAAAAAAAcE/Joa6T5vhHw0/s1600-h/lost-dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197470586345275682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCEf9f2mwSI/AAAAAAAAAcE/Joa6T5vhHw0/s400/lost-dog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Have you ever wanted to lose weight for Summer or for some special event and it seems like every day you have your usual NO willpower and no energy (and 100+ excuses) so you say to yourself "Self, I will FOR SURE start my diet and get my exercise groove on tomorrow". And then tomorrow comes and it's the same thing as the day before and this continues over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over. . .infinity! Well have you? Anyone?. . . Anyone?. . Bueller?. . Anyone?. . . . OK, so I'm alone on this one I take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that is the big story of my life and I have really got to get with the program the very day I decide something like this. It's now less than a month until my parents arrive back home, back in the good old USA from their 2 year mission in Africa and I am SO CRAZY EXCITED! Did I mention I was looking forward to it? Anyway, I have put on a few pounds since they left and I'm sure they will not recognize me with the additional pounds I have acquired in their absence. You know, I had to feed myself to not feel all empty and alone and stuff while they were gone. OK, that's my story regardless and I'm sticking to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I thought about my lack of motivation and my now tight schedule, I remembered a time when I was actually good at losing some weight. I remembered that journal I kept for myself of points used and weight lost. At one time I decided to use the Weight Watchers point system and followed this diet faithfully. I pulled out that journal which has on the front of it :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197475164780413234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCEkH_2mwTI/AAAAAAAAAcM/gESa_Uhwub8/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Hey! I was into the Big Fat Losers long before TV came up with that idea! I'm so cool! And I'm sure original. . . I'll bet you all never thought of that. OK, it wasn't really me that came up with that and I think it was my Mom or Sisters. We tried the diet at the same time. Anyway, back to the story. I was amazed to look through the pages of meals and days and how good I recorded EVERYTHING I ate and I kept well within the 22 points I was allowed. I DID IT! So I thought "Oh Diana, this will be a P.O.C (Piece of Cake). You can do this again so easy!" On Monday I began this diet. So far I have consumed all my points through Saturday. .SIGH! . . it's not so easy right now and I'm struggling. I think I would sum it up right now as a P.O.C. (Piece of crap!) I'm hoping that by posting my downfalls and struggles and chubby ways that you will all motivate me to keep going "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming. . . " Everyone sing along!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And If by chance I don't get my exercise groove on or if by chance I have consumed all my remaining month's points by next week I'll just say this. "Mom &amp;amp; Dad, Here I am! Yeah, I know I'm a bit chubs and you couldn't miss me because my body mass is in excess for my height (which is scary since I'm an Amazon) but I'm still YOUR Amazon! And there is just more of me to hug!"&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/9101569426455006440-7404527510602041088?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/7404527510602041088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=7404527510602041088&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7404527510602041088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/7404527510602041088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/oh-yeah-im-watching-my-weight-alright.html' title='Oh Yeah, I&apos;m Watching My Weight Alright!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SCEf9f2mwSI/AAAAAAAAAcE/Joa6T5vhHw0/s72-c/lost-dog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-6607423652361050828</id><published>2008-05-04T17:19:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T19:44:48.365-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sewing Craftiness Not Required.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now don't be confused by the title and the cool things you see in the pictures.&lt;/span&gt; YES, sewing is required to make them. . although maybe you could hot glue them? I don't know and am not going to try it. What I am trying to tell you is that I am NOT a sewer (I love that word:) or a seamstress or whatever you might call somebody that can create things with a sewing machine. BUT the really cool thing is that I have friends and family around me who ARE crafty sewers! hee hee! Thus I benefit greatly from their abilities! Woohoo! Just check out some of the goods I have scored.&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FRP2mwNI/AAAAAAAAAbc/cRszJT73uig/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196667182647787730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FRP2mwNI/AAAAAAAAAbc/cRszJT73uig/s400/002.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My Sister &lt;a href="http://www.lolaagain.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lola &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;sews a LOT and she also is my next door neighbor so I manage to get lots of good things she creates. I think she recognizes my loserishness and feels quite distraught and therefore doesn't want me to live a life of "Store bought goods only" stuff. So she so kindly surrenders her lovely goods to me. These cool things above are a life saver! Lola put this cute bag together one day when I was down in bed with one of my on and off killer headaches/jaw pain. I am an ice pack/heat dweller at these times and so she made her own with rice and buckwheat and stuff. And of course they are designer! Decorated to the hilt and with a cute carry bag. I love it and use it all often. (and don't forget the Symphony bar she put in the bag. . it of course is gone now:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FRf2mwOI/AAAAAAAAAbk/gVXy-GPnZ5U/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196667186942755042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FRf2mwOI/AAAAAAAAAbk/gVXy-GPnZ5U/s400/004.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My &lt;a href="http://www.iliveatthecircus.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Frister &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(friend that's more like a sister) made me this darling pillow above recently for my past 40 Birthday present. The pictures just don't do these things justice because I'm not only a loser in sewing but I can't take a good pic either:( *Sigh! Anyway, my Frister made this for me to put my feet on. When you get old like me you have to put your sagging ankles up a LOT. I love all of these comfort items I am accumulating don't you? Well, as it turns out I have to fight the kids and even worse, the dog for this cute pillow! EVERYONE wants their turn! I just say "GET AWAY LOSERS! IT'S MINE!" I'm nice aren't I!? It comes with old age:D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FRv2mwPI/AAAAAAAAAbs/7iGbtihC6N8/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196667191237722354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FRv2mwPI/AAAAAAAAAbs/7iGbtihC6N8/s400/006.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You may have seen a picture of this great purse on my &lt;a href="http://www.lolaagain.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sister Lola's blog&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. She is a purse queen and she made me this darling purse recently. I get a lot of great comments from sporting this on my shoulder and have almost wanted to lie and take credit for the cuteness. . .but I resisted. Once again, I have to fight the dog with this one. For some reason it looks like a beautiful flower to him and he lifts his leg and pees on it! I'm telling you that I just get it washed and he does it again! What is up with him? Does he have a thing with home sewn goods? I may have to get rid of him. . . or NOT!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FR_2mwQI/AAAAAAAAAb0/Z9c2TD3fLBw/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196667195532689666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FR_2mwQI/AAAAAAAAAb0/Z9c2TD3fLBw/s400/008.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.lolaagain.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lola&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; also mentioned this skirt on her blog. I was the lucky recipient of this skirt! She says it's too small for her and that it would fit me. I didn't let her in on my secret to fitting things she can't. You see, I'm not any smaller than she is but I have a SUPER TIGHT body hugger that can make a person appear much more petite than they really are. OK, petite and Diana should NEVER be mentioned in the same sentence and to be truthful, they haven't. . at least yet!  I just liked the sound of it for once. No, I haven't found the super body hugger undies yet but if anyone runs across them and they will make me look petite. . . I want them. . NOW!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FSf2mwRI/AAAAAAAAAb8/9m3ArEBF-ZE/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196667204122624274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FSf2mwRI/AAAAAAAAAb8/9m3ArEBF-ZE/s400/001.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yep! It's that pesky dog again! He just takes over everything around this house like he owns it! Ooooh I'm gonna. . . .pick him up and squeeze his cute little body and grit my teeth because he is so darn cute:)  I can't resist his cuteness and he gets away with murder at the house. I tried to lay out this quilt nicely to show you a picture of it but he just wouldn't have it. Anyway, this is one of two quilts made by &lt;a href="http://www.lolaagain.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lola&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; for my youngest boys. They go so great with their room and look darling on their beds. . . if they ever make their beds. I digress! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So that completes my tour today of the crafty stuff that other people have sewn for me. This isn't all that I have and when I have more energy I will venture downstairs to show you a great quilt I have on the wall that my Mother made me and my Sister quilted. I know you can hardly wait. . . but you'll have to.  I need to get the dog off my stuff! I hope you have some crafty people in your lives! Do you? Do tell! I wanna know! &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/9101569426455006440-6607423652361050828?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/6607423652361050828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=6607423652361050828&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6607423652361050828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/6607423652361050828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/05/sewing-craftiness-not-required.html' title='Sewing Craftiness Not Required.'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SB5FRP2mwNI/AAAAAAAAAbc/cRszJT73uig/s72-c/002.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5817730358049223584</id><published>2008-04-30T09:36:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T13:44:41.269-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday's Wacky News!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBiSnf2mwMI/AAAAAAAAAbU/moB4Q9PYKw8/s1600-h/mensroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195063377434951874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBiSnf2mwMI/AAAAAAAAAbU/moB4Q9PYKw8/s400/mensroom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://nuttynuttynews.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Restaurant stores bread on the floor in Men's Restroom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SANFORD, Florida - Eyewitness News discovered a popular Sanford fast food restaurant that's accused of storing food on the floor inside the men's restroom. The food that was left on the floor in the restroom was just one of several critical violations health inspectors found at a Checkers location in Sanford. Employees at the Checkers store on South French Avenue at West 15&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Street apparently decided it was okay to store buns for their hamburgers inside a not-so-clean men's room.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can I just say that is really gross. I mean, storing bread/buns in a restroom is just sick anyway but a MEN'S Restroom? What were they thinking? We all know that men don't often hit the target, which would seem to leave soggy buns.  Ewww ! Yuck! I'm wondering if that is where the phrase "Get your buns out of here!" Or "I'm going to pinch a loaf" came from?  Well, I will just tell you right now. You won't catch me eating at &lt;strong&gt;THAT &lt;/strong&gt;restaurant:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;*** &lt;/em&gt;IN OTHER NEWS ***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;still &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;have &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;started &lt;strong&gt;Running&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BUT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;have &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;high&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;hopes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;figure &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;out &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;how&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;to &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;operate &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;these &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;shoes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;very &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;soon;) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;I will keep you posted on my progress!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/9101569426455006440-5817730358049223584?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5817730358049223584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5817730358049223584&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5817730358049223584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5817730358049223584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/04/wednesdays-wacky-news.html' title='Wednesday&apos;s Wacky News!!'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBiSnf2mwMI/AAAAAAAAAbU/moB4Q9PYKw8/s72-c/mensroom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-5885275882308073798</id><published>2008-04-28T16:41:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T20:53:34.836-06:00</updated><title type='text'>OK, It's Time For A Little Self Mockery.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I kind of felt bad mocking my hubby Bob&lt;/span&gt; (yeah, still not his real name and I'm lying when I say I felt bad) about his knife obsession. . . or whatever it is. In fact, I really should start apologizing. You see, I forgot to mention that he works retail and has done so for 25+ years. Of course he knows how to sell a knife!  He has come home every day with a big grin on his face and a stuffed wallet because he has sold knives that day. Bob said he feels a bit like a drug dealer (like how does he know how that feels!) because he takes people from work out to his vehicle to check out (and purchase) his knives. I won't completely stop mocking him though, because he still has several hundred to go before I have my living room back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Today, I think I should let one of my dirty little secrets out of the bag.&lt;/span&gt; You see, I have a strong desire to be in great shape. OK, let me rephrase that. My mind has a strong desire for my body to be in shape but I can't motivate my body to feel the same way. I have done what many people (OK, maybe no people but humor me with this) have done in effort to accomplish this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194437536275415202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBZZav2mwKI/AAAAAAAAAbE/5DUzZS5ujds/s400/treadmill.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I convinced my hubby that I needed a treadmill because that would &lt;strong&gt;definitely&lt;/strong&gt; solve all my problems with getting time to go running and I would use it faithfully!. . . Yeah, that is not working so well. I'm random at best with using this thing.   I'd rather not use it and just look at it occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194435448921309330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBZXhP2mwJI/AAAAAAAAAa8/JUaH6ONS1Qw/s400/workout+clothing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told Bob that I needed work out clothing. You can't really work out if you don't have the proper attire can you? So I bought workout clothing. . . .  and  unfortunately, I wear them for lounge wear, not workouts. I like the spandex that stretches over my fatness OK? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194438077441294514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBZZ6P2mwLI/AAAAAAAAAbM/pm7UC9x9DsQ/s400/mp3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I convinced myself (and him) that I would be more devoted to staying on longer and daily if I had an MP3 player with my favorite tunes to keep me going. So Bob got me a nice MP3 player for Christmas where I can not only jam out to my favorite tunes but I can pass the "Sweet jogging time" by watching my favorite movies. All on that small contraption. Uh, I'm sure you can guess where we are going with this whole thing. Oh yeah, I have the music and videos loaded and sure I use it. Just not working out. Mostly I use it when I'm loafing around NOT burning calories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have &lt;strong&gt;FINALLY&lt;/strong&gt; found (and purchased) just the thing to help me accomplish my goal of getting in shape. I bought some sweet running shoes! Yeah, it said right on the box "Running shoes". I have had them for about a week and they have yet to work properly. I don't know what I'm missing but I put them on and nothing. I simply do what I have always done! NOTHING! Unfortunately, my shoes didn't come with instructions and so I'm inquiring to all my "in shape" blog friends. What step am I missing to get these things to work?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194435440331374690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBZXgv2mwGI/AAAAAAAAAak/kOwsHprR7qU/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;They sure are cute aren't they? OK, no cruel jokes about my feet being so large that they are like Ski's or something. Just ask my Dad.  I would look silly with my long legs and tiny feet! Right Dad? Don't mind the white (and probably hairy) legs sticking out of my Ski's either. Those are mine and you can just see a small glimpse of why my mind is so determined to get me in shape!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9101569426455006440-5885275882308073798?l=dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/feeds/5885275882308073798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9101569426455006440&amp;postID=5885275882308073798&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5885275882308073798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9101569426455006440/posts/default/5885275882308073798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dianasdumbstuff.blogspot.com/2008/04/ok-its-time-for-little-self-mockery.html' title='OK, It&apos;s Time For A Little Self Mockery.'/><author><name>Hey It's Di</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00946511234414730828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/R4Ju4mqKWiI/AAAAAAAAABs/l2hJMA6vzYg/S220/126.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBZZav2mwKI/AAAAAAAAAbE/5DUzZS5ujds/s72-c/treadmill.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101569426455006440.post-7785619894272207319</id><published>2008-04-26T20:58:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T21:53:14.508-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bone Yard Daddies Big Debut. . Minus One Hot Drummer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBPucv2mwFI/AAAAAAAAAac/PNgGjy9d9xs/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193756972937560146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBPucv2mwFI/AAAAAAAAAac/PNgGjy9d9xs/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Shortly after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Colton&lt;/span&gt; passed away&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;his fellow band members and several other local bands and friends of his decided to put on a benefit concert in his honor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; So last night was the big night and even Ty-Ty was excited about the shindig. You can't really tell from this picture but he insisted on sporting a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Fohawk&lt;/span&gt; for the night and had his hair standing on end in every direction. (That was of course before I sent him to his big sister for some hair help).  Little did I know, he would be in good company that night with several other teenagers with the same "&lt;em&gt;do".&lt;/em&gt; (although, there were a few boys that had more of a "Do NOT") &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193756964347625522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBPucP2mwDI/AAAAAAAAAaM/9LcTjRXUZCE/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you look VERY closely at the picture below you will see part of a "Do Not" hair do. Now mind you this picture is terrible, but I was trying NOT to draw any attention from the teenagers who were in a trance from the band on stage. Nor was I ready to enter the Mosh Pit, at that point, so I kept the flash off with my camera. Anyway, if you look really closely at the center of the picture and you see some points that almost look like glistening rays of sun, that is a "do NOT" that happened to be on a spectators head. That Mohawk was HUGE. And it was not only huge but the hair had also been bleached from the dark black roots to the orange-yellow tips. I didn't want to get near the boy in fear that I would get an eye poked out. And when I mean near, I'm talking within a few feet of him. But I imagine he is a nice boy and wouldn't want to poke eyes out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193756968642592834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_SW0YAL-gzv8/SBPucf2mwEI/AAAAAAAAAaU/nFRXmPei2DM/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Anywho&lt;/span&gt;, back to the concert, we found ourselves in "The Loft" loitering (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lollygagging&lt;/span&gt;, lounging, loafing, lurking) and all that stuff that old people do when they are a bit out of their element. The amazing part was that we were having a great time doing it! The kids didn't seem to mind that there was some geriatric stench to the air. They kept on doing what kids their age do. . .whatever that is.  Meanwhile us family and friends of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Colton&lt;/span&gt; were immediately entertained by the very band that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Colton&lt;/span&gt; was once a part of. &lt;em&gt;The Bone Yard Daddies&lt;/em&gt; were there to rock the house! They had just been preparing for their debut right before &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Colton&lt;/span&gt; got sick and those plans were changed, along with the dynamics of the band they had formed. But they went on stage anyway, in tribute of their fallen friend and drummer. &lt;strong&gt;BOY did they need him!&lt;/strong&gt; Don't get me wrong, they were fun, they really were but they needed a drummer to keep them on beat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am sorry to say that I didn't get to see or hear all of the bands play because about 5 minutes after our arrival for the concert, my 6 year old decided that was enough for him and began his chants of "are we going home now?" I don't know what was up but maybe his hair was weighing him down? I really wanted to stick around but those voices in my head kept saying "Toss the boy in the Mosh Pit for a little fun". OK, there wasn't even a pit at that point but it sounded fun anyway. All I could hear at that point was HIS voice blaring in my head. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Needless to say the concert fun continued on for others after we left and even &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Colton's&lt;/span&gt; bes
