<?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-18658900</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:38:47.162-06:00</updated><category term='weather'/><category term='cedar'/><category term='office'/><category term='Shirley MacLaine'/><category term='Wurstfest'/><category term='gadgets'/><category term='politics'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='injury'/><category term='Thanksgiving'/><category term='aliens'/><category term='cats'/><category term='eBay'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='stock market'/><category term='diet'/><category term='Texas'/><category term='Britney'/><category term='The Amazing Race'/><category term='taxes'/><category term='ringtones'/><category term='Mac'/><category term='religion'/><category term='email'/><category term='Verizon'/><category term='football'/><category term='health'/><category term='grocery store'/><category term='work'/><category term='India'/><category term='cars'/><title type='text'>Just one more thing...</title><subtitle type='html'>The occasional thoughts of someone who has never managed to keep a journal going once whatever crisis that spawned the journal in the first place has passed.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>624</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6002830020155366091</id><published>2010-01-28T16:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T16:51:04.316-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Joe Jackson has his hand out...as usual</title><content type='html'>So, in the news today is &lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100128/ap_en_ot/us_michael_jackson_estate" target="blank"&gt;a story that Joe Jackson is going to court &lt;/a&gt;to squeeze a $15,000 a month stipend out of Michael Jackson's estate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This seems like a pretty simple case to me. Was Michael giving him a $15,000 monthly allowance before he died? If he was, then it would appear that's where Michael wanted his money to go. If not, then clearly it wasn't how he wanted the money spent that he earned through a lifetime of performing, sometimes at the abusive hand of this same Joe Jackson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Michael cut Joe out of his will, I'm going to assume he wasn't paying Daddy Dearest $15,000 a month to exist. Case closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe's reasoning for why he should get the money? He has "little monthly income." Sounds like a personal problem to me, douchebag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6002830020155366091?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6002830020155366091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6002830020155366091&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6002830020155366091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6002830020155366091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2010/01/joe-jackson-has-his-hand-outas-usual.html' title='Joe Jackson has his hand out...as usual'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3755097866854101560</id><published>2010-01-22T13:14:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T13:17:10.913-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can it sing, too?</title><content type='html'>If you're going to create a life-size &lt;a href="http://news.sky.com/skynews/Home/Strange-News/Life-size-Robotic-Girlfriend-Roxxxy-Is-Unveiled-At-Adult-Entertainment-Show-In-Las-Vegas/Article/201001215519671?lpos=Strange_News_Article_Related_Content_Region_3&amp;lid=ARTICLE_15519671_Life-size_Robotic_Girlfriend_Roxxxy_Is_Unveiled_At_Adult_Entertainment_Show_In_Las_Vegas" target="blank"&gt;robotic sex doll&lt;/a&gt;, does it make sense to make it look like Amy Winehouse? Seems like that kind of defeats the purpose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3755097866854101560?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3755097866854101560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3755097866854101560&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3755097866854101560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3755097866854101560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2010/01/can-it-sing-too.html' title='Can it sing, too?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5518164189949316879</id><published>2010-01-19T11:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T11:10:23.553-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Headline: 1-18-10</title><content type='html'>In Monday's news: &lt;a href="http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,583286,00.html" target="blank"&gt;Wisconsin Man Cited for 'Rocking Out' to John Denver&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, he did. He rocked it. He was Rocky Mountain High and thankin' God he's a country boy. Word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-5518164189949316879?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5518164189949316879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5518164189949316879&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5518164189949316879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5518164189949316879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2010/01/headline-1-18-10.html' title='Headline: 1-18-10'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5150573032126411424</id><published>2010-01-14T13:19:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T13:21:12.070-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Headline: 1/14/10</title><content type='html'>Headline from today's LA Times: "&lt;a href="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/washington/2010/01/joe-biden-update.html" target="blank"&gt;Joe Biden update: He meets on transparency today. But the meeting is closed.&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well done, Joe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-5150573032126411424?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5150573032126411424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5150573032126411424&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5150573032126411424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5150573032126411424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2010/01/headline-11410.html' title='Headline: 1/14/10'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-1933973923725307872</id><published>2009-12-18T15:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T15:58:35.986-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Headline</title><content type='html'>So, today's headline comes to us from WTVC-TV in Chattanooga, TN:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drunk 4-Year-Old Steals Christmas Presents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup. &lt;a href="http://www.newschannel9.com/news/year-987196-old-christmas.html" target="blank"&gt;It's real.&lt;/a&gt; Commence with the hillbilly jokes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-1933973923725307872?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/1933973923725307872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=1933973923725307872&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/1933973923725307872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/1933973923725307872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/12/headline.html' title='Headline'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8172282893761320579</id><published>2009-12-11T13:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T13:38:32.873-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I like this guy...</title><content type='html'>I laughed out loud when I saw this headline today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/road-and-rail-transport/6787636/Tube-announcer-advises-passengers-to-consider-shooting-themselves.html" target="blank"&gt;"Tube announcer advises passengers to consider shooting themselves"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read the story, and I have to say, I like the guy's style. In fact, if I'd been in that station when he started his "communication with passengers," I might've hung out in the subway, letting trains pass me by, and just listened for as long as it went on. It's exactly the kind of thing I would've wanted to do if I'd gotten the criticism from my boss that he got, but I wouldn't have had the bollocks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lift my hypothetical glass to you, sir!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8172282893761320579?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8172282893761320579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8172282893761320579&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8172282893761320579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8172282893761320579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-like-this-guy.html' title='I like this guy...'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5390329227726524530</id><published>2009-12-10T15:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T15:36:43.260-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog? What blog?</title><content type='html'>Three weeks. I haven't posted in three weeks. That's gotta be a record! I can't help it, people. I've been busy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on vacation, then I got back and had to get caught up on life, and then there were a couple of pressing projects that had to be completed, and next thing you know, it's been three weeks and Amazing Race is over and Christmas is around the corner. Whaaaaat?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't bore you with a travelogue of my vacation, and all I can say about Amazing Race is thank heaven the stupid brothers didn't win! Oy. But I do have a comment about something interesting that happened yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at my desk at work, and I heard the BANG! of car accident outside our building. Our building is on the corner at a busy intersection, so it's not a common thing to have accidents out there, but it's not unheard of. My first thought was not to be terribly concerned, but I'll get up in a second and look. But then there was this other bang and this loud, low, metallic scraping sound. Huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked out the window (I'm on the 6th floor), and on the street below me is an SUV on its roof! I'm staring at the undercarriage of this truck! "Oh my God!" was about what I could manage. I saw a bystander run up to the car and get on her hands and knees to check on whoever was inside. That was the first of the things I saw that bolstered my faith in the goodness of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My co-workers and I crowded around the windows and watched things unfold as a crowd gathered outside. People respectfully stayed back as just a couple of folks (including the original good samaritan than ran up to the car) managed the scene until the emergency personnel got there, which only took a few minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cops showed up and blocked off the street and talked to witnesses, while firefighters stabilized the car then got the occupants out, and EMTs assessed their condition. Turns out there were two people in the car - an older couple. They both could get out and stand, but they eventually put the woman on a backboard and took them both to the hospital (which is right around the corner) in an ambulance. All of the emergency personnel seemed very professional, quick and concerned - more bolstering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, a wrecker came out to remove the car from the street. Even the wrecker driver bolstered my opinion of humanity as I watched him carefully position his truck and place chains on the overturned SUV. He seemed to treat the car with respect, understanding that just an hour before, people had been in there - he didn't bang things around or toss things. Then he carefully pulled it upright, and I saw that it wasn't an SUV - it was an extended cab truck. Somehow that affected me - that I couldn't tell what it was until it was turned upright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, as it was righted, the doors (which no longer closed) flew open, tossing papers and some possessions of the couple into the street. The firefighters ran over and quickly returned most items to the car, cleaning up others with brooms and throwing them away. I wondered if anything important was getting thrown away, and thought about my own car - what's in there and what would get tossed into the street if my car were thrown on its head like that. What would I never get back, and what would other people see, and what would the items tell anyone about me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thought whenever I see an accident like that is always, "Someone was just going down the street, running an errand, living their normal life like every other day, and now, suddenly, everything has just been thrown in disarray. Who knows how far-reaching the consequences will be." I try to be thoughtful of what a big event that is to someone - not just rubberneck with curiosity. I wonder today how that couple is doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One interesting note is that none of us ever could find the car that hit them. Possibly it was able to the pull through the intersection and park where we couldn't see it. But honestly, none of us knows exactly what happened - what collision occurred that resulted in the scene I saw out my window. That'll drive me a little crazy, won't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-5390329227726524530?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5390329227726524530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5390329227726524530&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5390329227726524530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5390329227726524530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-what-blog.html' title='Blog? What blog?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4363101857591912535</id><published>2009-11-18T15:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T16:21:02.429-06:00</updated><title type='text'>From five to four</title><content type='html'>The Amazing Race is officially tight now. This week we started with five teams and now we are four. My thoughts on this week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Travel to Estonia&lt;br /&gt;The teams had to travel from Stockholm to Estonia by ferry. In true TAR fashion, they left the pitstop starting at 2:23 a.m., but the first ferry didn't depart until 5:45 p.m. Someone please tell me the point of having teams depart the pitstop in the middle of the freakin night when they can't go anywhere until the evening! Really annoying, guys. Annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estonian monk types&lt;br /&gt;When evening finally came (!), the teams traveled overnight to Estonia where they had to find a building called "Mustpeade" where some sort of brotherhood (monks? Shriners? Who knows - I'm sure they said and I wasn't listening) holds their feasts and meetings and whatnot. They had figure out how to unlock the door, at which point a loud alarm sounded while they pushed open the door. What's the point of the alarm, anyway? Seems like you'd want an alarm if someone is breaking into your lair, but why do you want one when someone is entering using the proper key? Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, each team had to grab a candelabra with a room number, then go to that room, where they found a scroll. They had to figure out to hold the scroll over the candle to reveal the clue. Oddly, I knew exactly what they were supposed to do as soon as I saw the scroll, but I can't fault Flight Time and Matt for thinking they might need to color the scroll with the crayon to reveal the message. It's not unreasonable. You just have to remember that they wouldn't give you the candelabra if you're not supposed to use it for something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pikk Hermann Tower Garden&lt;br /&gt;Dan and Sam got all bent out of shape that the Globetrotters were following them to the tower. Whatever, man. You're going to the same place. What are they supposed to do - purposely go a different way, even if they think you might be right, just so you don't get your knickers in a twist? It's a race and you're all going the same places, you idiot. That means sometimes teams will be following each other!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serve or Sling&lt;br /&gt;J and I said we'd have done "Serve" because we both play volleyball. Meaghan and Shane clearly play, because they knocked the Detour right out. But J pointed out that it sure would be easy to snap an ankle or knee or something in that bog. You turn one way to get the ball, and your leg doesn't move with you. What got my attention was at the end of the task, Meaghan noted that it smelled bad. I hadn't thought about that! I'd definitely be headin' for the shower after checking in at the Pit Stop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fight between the Globetrotters and Brothers got ugly at this point, though. I honestly don't think either team was trying to be dirty. I think the brothers were running to the Pit Stop, and Flight Time was trying to pass them, and there wasn't enough room, and they got tangled up and he and Dan fell. I don't think he *meant* to take Dan down, and I don't think Dan *meant* to push or trip Flight Time. There just wasn't room, and they were slippery from the bog, and they both had arms flailing. But they're mad at each other now, so they're each accusing the other of pushing and playing dirty. It's a shame it's gotten like that between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pit Stop&lt;br /&gt;I was sorry to see Matt and Gary get knocked out. I like them. But they can feel good about how far they got. Top 5 ain't bad! I wouldn't mind seeing the brothers go out at this point. They're on my nerves now. I almost hate to see what the next leg will bring with them and the Globetrotters!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4363101857591912535?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4363101857591912535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4363101857591912535&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4363101857591912535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4363101857591912535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/11/from-five-to-four.html' title='From five to four'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4813469961107877383</id><published>2009-11-13T08:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T08:44:29.757-06:00</updated><title type='text'>In my email...</title><content type='html'>This morning, "donotreply@v99d.com" says "I'll give you anything you want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. Anything? Because that's a pretty tall order. I've got some things I want, and they're not insignificant. No one has made me this offer before, so I think I should seriously consider it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it says "donotreply" (that's "do not reply" for those of us who use the space bar). If I don't reply, how do they know that I accept their offer? And do they already know what I want? I don't like people assuming they know what I want. How can I make sure they know if I can't reply?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I end up with something like a Chia Obama or a Snuggie? I suppose the Snuggie might be okay. But it's not *really* what I want. And where will they deliver it? To my office? To my house? Will someone have to sign for it? Because if they use Saturday delivery, and they come to my office, no one will be here to sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think these people need to reconsider the logistics of accomplishing this whole project. I don't think they've thought it through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4813469961107877383?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4813469961107877383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4813469961107877383&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4813469961107877383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4813469961107877383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/11/in-my-email_13.html' title='In my email...'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5350312026125571005</id><published>2009-11-11T12:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T12:18:17.087-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Sweden and its Swedish Swedes</title><content type='html'>Gonna jump right in on my recap today. Jump with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Fly to Sweden. &lt;br /&gt;Finally something interesting with regard to the planes on TAR. All the teams didn't end up on the same flight, so the early departing teams actually had an advantage for a change. Of course, they made them leave the Pit Stop at 9:30 at night, and the first flight didn't leave until 6:55 a.m., so for no reason whatsoever, the teams all had to spend the night in the airport. Stupid. Anyway, everyone made it to Sweden, and it was off to the trains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some teams were faster than others on the ticket machines for the Stockholm train, but I'm wondering if the machines were complicated or if some were slower than others or if it was just a matter of getting to the machine faster. I couldn't tell from the editing. I also wondered if they were in Swedish only and an English speaker had to just figure out how to use it, but I doubt that. Europeans are pretty good about including English instructions, and I'm sure one of the teams would've mentioned it if there were no English instructions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Amusement park&lt;br /&gt;J definitely would've wanted to do the ride at the amusement park, and I would've wanted him to look for the clue because he's an eagle eye. Everyone got it on the first try, so the arrow must not have been too hard to see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Roaming gnomes and dynamite&lt;br /&gt;Not much to say on this one except I'm impressed that none of the teams left their gnome behind anywhere. I was kind of expecting that - maybe at the dynamite place. Blowing up the dynamite would've been fun, but Meghan was annoying when they were building the sandbag wall. She's so freakin' high strung. I don't know how Cheyne stands it, except maybe in normal life, there isn't so much stress, so he doesn't have to deal with her annoying stressed-out manner that often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Hay bales&lt;br /&gt;I would've killed Dan if he had been my partner on this one. He needed to SHUT UP and let Sam to do the task! If he knew so much about it, he should've jumped in to do it, but he hesitated and let Sam do it, then he pestered him. At first, I thought, "I'd just ignore him." But it was incessant. I'm glad he *finally* realized after a while that he needed to back the hell off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad Matt and Gary didn't get eliminated. I like those guys. I don't really hate any of the teams anymore, so I won't jump for joy over any of them getting knocked out at this point, but I think I wouldn't feel any real attachment to Meghan/Cheyne or Sam/Dan getting knocked out. Those are strong teams, though, so we'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-5350312026125571005?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5350312026125571005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5350312026125571005&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5350312026125571005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5350312026125571005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/11/amazing-sweden-and-its-swedish-swedes.html' title='Amazing Sweden and its Swedish Swedes'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5128607120167557460</id><published>2009-11-08T09:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T09:25:36.242-06:00</updated><title type='text'>In my email...</title><content type='html'>From "Jobs Needed" the following email appeared: "Immediate Jobs needed For Nursing-No experience Necessary"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, someone needs an immediate job in nursing? And this person has no experience?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or someone wants to hire nurses, even if they have no experience, for immediate jobs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this part of the new Obamacare plan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, man. While I appreciate that someone is willing to hire me as a nurse without any experience, I think that as a patient, I want my nurses to have experience. That's just me, and maybe it's because I'm getting older and turning into an old fuddy-duddy, but yeah...I'm going to go with experienced nurses for my medical care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what else is needed by "Jobs Needed"? An editor. I have experience, though - does that count against me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-5128607120167557460?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5128607120167557460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5128607120167557460&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5128607120167557460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5128607120167557460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/11/in-my-email.html' title='In my email...'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3889527152704920334</id><published>2009-11-04T16:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T16:35:43.004-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It was only a matter of time.</title><content type='html'>So, the Netherlands took their toll on some teams in this week's Amazing Race. Let's break it down:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Fly to Amsterdam&lt;br /&gt;As usual, a stupid flight schedule made the staggered start times of the teams meaningless. This is really getting old. Any time a flight is involved, you know all the teams are going to catch up to one another, so it just wipes out any progress or advantage any teams have earned. The producers really should do a better job of making sure there are at least two different flights for teams, and all the teams can't fit on one flight to keep things more interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gay brothers came out to the other teams at the airport. My question is: Why? What difference does it make who you sleep with? You're not dating these people - you're competing against them for a million dollars, so what's with the big pronouncement? You're gay. So what? That would be like me feeling like I had to make a special announcement to the group that I'm infertile. Okay, I'm not, as far as I know, but if I &lt;strong&gt;were&lt;/strong&gt; that would be private information that is significant to my life but nowhere near relevant to the task at hand. It's nothing you need to hide, but it's also nothing you should feel the need to announce to the world. It's just a part of who you are. If you want the world to think it's no big deal, then stop acting like it's a big deal. (Climbing down from soap box...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Drive to (a place I can't pronounce or spell)&lt;br /&gt;Poor Brian. He couldn't figure out how to start the car, and then Ericka just jumps on him for being frustrated - like it's not her natural state of being if she can't get something in two seconds. He is definitely the supportive, patient one in that relationship. I laughed out loud when the Globetrotters said the one name they knew from all the teams was Brian's from hearing Ericka screeching at him all the time. "Brian! Brian!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Count the bells&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure why this was so difficult for Ericka, but my, oh my, didn't Brian treat her differently when she had trouble with the bells than she treated him when he had trouble with the car? Just sayin'. I didn't like Sam giving Tiffany the answer. If she can't do the task, that team shouldn't move on (karma had my back on that one later, though). And I loved watching Matt just knock this task out like nuthin' - zipping past Meghan and Sam. He always stays calm and focused and just gets it done. Reminds me of J (except for the pink hair). :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Farmer's Game or Farmer's Dance&lt;br /&gt;I got a no-win situation here. If I did the game, the swim across the cold river and then running around in my wet undies in the wind would've done me in. But I think that in the end, that would've been preferable to the dance, because eating that herring at the end would've ended with me hurling for sure. No way I could've choked that down without vomiting it right back. In fact, I feel kinda sick just thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tif and Maria should've stuck with the golf thing. Surely they could've figured that out eventually. If you don't have the strength for that carnival mallet thing, then you don't. But the golf thing should've been doable. I'm suprised that they died on that particular hill. But die they did. See ya, girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sam and Dan on the mat.&lt;br /&gt;So, I have no opinion about Sam and Dan winning the leg. But J and I both agreed that a dune buggy would totally suck as a prize. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was annoying the way Ericka cried during her and Brian's 30-minute penalty. J and I both agreed that crying when you don't even know that it's going to cost you anything is pointless. If you get knocked out because of it then great - cry. That's a million-dollar sob, baby. But Maria and Tif never showed up, and Ericka and Brian weren't eliminated, so the tears were for nothing. Beauty queens, man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3889527152704920334?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3889527152704920334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3889527152704920334&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3889527152704920334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3889527152704920334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/11/it-was-only-matter-of-time.html' title='It was only a matter of time.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6987607177824495754</id><published>2009-10-28T15:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T15:47:20.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess she didn't want a million dollars.</title><content type='html'>I don't count that title as a spoiler since I don't say who "she" is AND it's Wednesday. Surely you've seen the episode by now! Okay, here was this week's episode:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Row to a yacht&lt;br /&gt;J would've kicked ace on rowing a boat. And I hope we would've been smart enough to figure out the clue for the briefcase combination. I guess it depends on how sleep-deprived I was at the time.  I felt bad for the Globetrotters that they were stumped on that. I like those guys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to mention here that even at this point, J and I were marveling that Mika would even agree to do the race, considering she's afraid of heights AND water...and sex. But I guess the sex part is not actually relevant, so just forget I said that .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Detour: Gold or Glass&lt;br /&gt;J and I thought the gold challenge sounded incredibly easy. Figure out the exchange rate. Measure the gold. If the rate changes by the time you measure, just add or remove whatever is needed to meet the new amount. Right? I really do not understand why so many teams had trouble with this. And I'm a math moron, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glass certainly seemed doable, but more complicated than gold. J said there's no way he could've tolerated Meghan and the beauty queen's frustration - not the fact of it, but the way they just kept yammering instead of just shutting up for five seconds and *thinking* about how to fix the problem. Repeating, "I just don't know" in varying levels of anxiety does NOT get you closer to a solution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Water slide&lt;br /&gt;How awesome was it that the slide went under a shark tank? I'm actually not great with heights, so I get why Mika freaked out about the slide (for her, it would be a double-whammy of two fears), but seriously, man, for a million dollars, I could power through my fear. We've seen this in previous seasons - people with a crippling fear that almost or does cost them the race. I have to assume the producers look for at least a few contestants like that to ramp up the drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canaan had choice words for Big Easy when he heckled Mika, but I have to admit, I laughed. I thought what Big Easy said was really funny, and even if I'm too nice to actually say that to someone who is scared, it's pretty smart strategy. And it's not cheating. It's not like anything Big Easy said really made the difference. She'd had plenty of time before they got there to slide down, and she was on the verge of hysterics, so seriously Canaan, put the blame where it belongs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't dislike Mika and Canaan, so I'm not psyched that they're out. But clearly she didn't want that million dollars, so it's just as well. A million dollars could've gotten Mika a lot of therapy for her phobias...just sayin'. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6987607177824495754?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6987607177824495754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6987607177824495754&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6987607177824495754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6987607177824495754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/10/guess-she-didnt-want-million-dollars.html' title='Guess she didn&apos;t want a million dollars.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3720948551334637562</id><published>2009-10-20T14:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T14:42:45.234-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Race - cutoff!</title><content type='html'>Okay, so the NFL and MLB people are just going to have to start wrapping things up sooner on Sundays. J set our DVR to account for an extra hour of tape time for The Amazing Race since it's always getting bumped because of football and baseball running late. This week, that still wasn't enough and the last bit of the show was cut off! Arrrgh! But I did catch most of it, so here's my commentary for this week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Fly to Dubai. I was impressed that Miss America Erica knew that the tallest building in the world was in Dubai. I sure as heck didn't know that off the top of my head! I laughed out loud, though, when The Brothers asked for a flight "to the Persian Gulf" at the ticket counter. What maroons. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, all the teams ended up on the same flight. That's become standard now, so maybe they should just take the race to the airport and the scramble at the ticket counters out of the scripts. It's not suspenseful anymore since everyone knows now that the show is going to pull strings and make sure everyone is evened up by the flights. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dubai was the picture of a modern city, but I wasn't terribly impressed with the fountain they led the teams to considering you can see the same thing in Las Vegas at the Bellagio - and with music. It also looked to be very steamy from the way everyone was sweating. And was that humidity or smog hanging over the horizon? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Top of the World, Ma! &lt;br /&gt;I, like Mika, would not have enjoyed the idea of going to the top of that building. Old Suzy ain't too good with heights, and her fear that they might make the teams rappel down the side wasn't exactly unreasonable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Fast Forward&lt;br /&gt;J would have *loved* getting to race around the track, so if we'd be in the first group up to the clue, I'm sure we would've tried for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Head to the Desert/Roadblock&lt;br /&gt;I laughed with joy at Lance not being able to find the cars in the parking garage and then getting lost at every turn. That guy is such a TOOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure which of us would have done the water thing, but I guess probably J. He's got the stamina of a Bedouin when it comes to heat, and all the other teams had the guy doing it, so we probably would've followed suit. Alot of teams helped out other teams in the Dubai leg of the race. I'll be interested to see if that breeds some good karma or if bad teams end up not reciprocating in the end. I wouldn't have waited for the Poker Girls after they trashed their cars. You know the producers will give them another one, so why stick around? Not a smart way to run the race, Brothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Ski Dubai&lt;br /&gt;How cool would this place have been - literally? LOL! Ooooooh, I crack myself up. We definitely would've done the sledding and then searched for a snowman. It would've been work, for sure. Those snowmen were tiny! But you get to be inside in the cool air, and it really just takes some perseverence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, our VCR cut off, so I didn't see any of the footage of the teams trying to build snowmen or any of the teams reaching the Pit Stop (except Meghan and Cheyne since they won early). This is tragic since Lance got booted, which I would've LOVED to have seen. From the recap at CBS, though, he actually handled it pretty well. If so, it was the first time since the race started that he wasn't an ass. Did anyone see it? What did you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3720948551334637562?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3720948551334637562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3720948551334637562&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3720948551334637562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3720948551334637562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/10/amazing-race-cutoff.html' title='Amazing Race - cutoff!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8076720552341651576</id><published>2009-10-13T15:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T15:39:37.749-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The race...she is unkind</title><content type='html'>This was interesting week on TAR - some shuffling of team rankings and a little bit of tragedy (I'm probably the only person in the world who hears the Bee Gees singing, "Tragedy! When the feelin's gone and you can't go on, it's tragedy!" in my head everytime I see that word...). Let's recap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Fly to Phnom Penh, Cambodia. J and I bounced a number of Sean Penn jokes off each other during this part. We were soon distracted from our jaunty word play, though, by Lance whining about being in a race for last place when he thought he wasn't going to get on the first plane. Who cares if you're not on the first flight as long as you're not the ONLY team on the second one? To keep racing, you only have to beat ONE other team, so quit yer whinin' Lance and just race. As usual, the producers pulled some strings and both teams got on the first plane, so his mewling was for naught anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Foreign Correspondent's Club. As is frequently the case, the cabbie made all the difference. By getting a good one, Zev and Justin jetted into first place. I was stunned at how few of the team members knew Jackie Kennedy, though. Truly stunned. Not recognizing Jackie O is like not recognizing Marilyn Monroe. Do you these people not actually live in the U.S.???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Detour: Cover or Wrap. I think J could sell anything to anyone, but we probably would've gone with wrap, as most of the teams did. I would've wanted to keep the scarf, though. Pretty... :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Roadblock: Monkey Business. This looked really easy. I'm not sure why so many team members had trouble with it. One thing I noticed is how many contestants kept their socks on. If you're trying to walk on a log, doesn't it seem like it would be easier in bare feet? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Pit Stop. I was SO excited when Zev and Justin made it to the Pit Stop first! I love these guys. (I told J that if we did the race and won even one leg and got one free trip, I'd feel like we were winners.) Imagine my frustration when they discovered Zev had lost his passport. Imagine my further chagrine when Justin dumped out his backpack and spread the contents all over the ground. That's not how you look for something, Justin. You've got to be systematic and neat. That kind of thing is how you lose a passport in the first place. But I digress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really sad that the boys not only lost their first place standing but got eliminated all together. I was really rooting for them. And I would've been perfectly happy to see Maria and Tiffany (aka, The Liars) booted. These two have dodged the bullet twice now. Seriously, they should go down in the next round.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8076720552341651576?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8076720552341651576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8076720552341651576&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8076720552341651576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8076720552341651576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/10/raceshe-is-unkind.html' title='The race...she is unkind'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-351647126292634979</id><published>2009-10-06T16:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T16:54:22.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Race recap, beeotches</title><content type='html'>So, we're fully under way now with TAR. We've met the teams and we're a-racin! Let's talk about this Sunday's episode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teams started out by traveling to Ho Chi Minh City. I think they said the name of the city about 50 times, because it became a joke between me and J. Everytime they'd say it, J or I would say, "Where are they going again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puppet Theater - the puppet theater was kinda cool. And I thought it was funny how the contestants would jerk their hands back if the dragon came toward them, because I know I would've done the same thing. You know it's a puppet, but hello - it's a *dragon*! My favorite part of this task, though, was when Lance The Wonder Lawyer couldn't figure out the clue and, as usual, managed to blame Keri for every obstacle they encountered. MAN, that guy is a tool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sap City - I'm only going to mention this long enough to say I could've done without the sob stories about Big Easy's dad who died recently and Marcy's dad, the pilot who we all now know (because we heard it like 3 times) was shot down over Vietnam and rescued. Let's skip the heartstrings, people, and just race, MMMkay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Child's Play v. Word Play - I can't believe Marcy and Ron picked Word Play. That seemed much harder than Child's Play. And sure enough, it was. I would definitely have picked Child's Play and I would've picked the smallest animal figure I could find to navigate around the park with. I don't know what  Zev and Justin were thinking with that giraffe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roadblock - the VCRs. I think I could've done this one, but in all honesty, J probably could rip through them in half the time. Too bad Lance didn't injure himself ripping them apart with his bare hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pit Stop - I like that the Globetrotters won this leg. I like the guys - their personalities and the way they play. It's too bad about Marcy and Ron, but she was kind of annoying so I won't miss her. As I'm sure you've already guessed, my fervent hope each week now is that Lance will get booted. He's my guy to hate this season. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that was short and sweet, but if you TAR fans have anything to add, feel free to put it in the comments!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-351647126292634979?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/351647126292634979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=351647126292634979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/351647126292634979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/351647126292634979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/10/amazing-race-recap-beeotches.html' title='Amazing Race recap, beeotches'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3252348779807410730</id><published>2009-10-04T10:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T11:08:53.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'>As Dr. Phil says...</title><content type='html'>"How's that workin' for ya?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a question. If you love someone, and they find a partner, and maybe you don't like that partner or approve of the relationship (insert your reason here - the universe of reasons why people don't like other people or don't approve of other people's relationships is limitless), but the person you love seems happy, exactly what benefit is there to you of snubbing the partner?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, you've made a point. You've let your feelings be known. You don't approve. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then what? After you've had your say, why keep "saying" it (sometimes you don't have to speak words to send a message)? What are you accomplishing? Is your snubbing bringing you closer to the person you love? Is it improving your relationship with that person? Is it making them want to be around you? Or is it, perhaps, resulting in the opposite? Do they know how you feel? If they do, is it necessary to keep putting it out there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Phil often asks people, "Do you want to be right or be happy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to be right. But more than that, I want to be happy. And I want the people I love to be happy. What is it that you want?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3252348779807410730?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3252348779807410730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3252348779807410730&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3252348779807410730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3252348779807410730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/10/as-dr-phil-says.html' title='As Dr. Phil says...'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-2771295335592850658</id><published>2009-09-28T16:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T16:57:48.151-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And they're off!</title><content type='html'>Well, The Amazing Race, Season 15 started last night - woohoo! I think the best option for this first column is for me to go over the teams for this season, and if there's something to say in relation to the actual racing, I'll say it in regard to specific teams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meghan and Cheyne - Not really much to say yet on these two, except what's up with the stupid spelling of Cheyne's name? Why do people think that naming your child is a creativity contest?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maria and Tiffany - Let's be honest. These two are beeyotches. When you lie to people first thing by telling them you work with at-risk kids when you literally make your living playing poker, you can confidently look in the mirror and know you have no integrity. You make your living playing poker? Cool. I personally have no problem with that. But you obviously do deep down or you wouldn't feel the need to lie about it. And your theory that if people don't know you play a game for a living, it'll give you an advantage? What did that last - about 10 minutes? And now everyone knows you're liars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marcy and Ron - these two seem nice, but I think Marcy is gonna get on my nerves, and I don't think I'd want her for a teammate. She's a little too "vibrant" to be joined to 24 hours a day for weeks and weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lance and Keri. One word: douchebag. Lance is my guy to hate already. I was hoping he'd be knocked out with that first license-plate challenge. No such luck. And, of course, he blamed Keri for the two of them not seeing the symbol they needed on their clue. That's about right for some Yankee muscle-head lawyer - blame someone else for your mistakes. I sure as hell wouldn't hire that guy as my lawyer. He can't even manage a clue in a game, but you'd expect him to be thorough enough for your legal matters? No thanks. When he blew your case, he'd blame you somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Herbert and Nathanial - Harlmen Globetrotters! Love these guys already and are rooting for them. Nice guys will out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gary and Matt - I think these guys, too. As an Austinite, the pink hair barely makes my notice, but I'll make note of it this one time since we're on introductions. So here goes: Matt has pink hair. There. I mentioned it. I think these guys are going to have common sense and work well together as a team, and it'll be cool if the experience brings them closer as father and son. Rooting for you guys to do well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garrett and Jessica - the first team eliminated. These two should just break up now and get it over with. In the course of one show, Garrett went from talking about how great Jessica was and wanting to marry her to talking about how he wasn't sure they were a good match for marriage because she doesn't handle stress well. From the TAR Web site, I found out that Garrett proposed to her after they were eliminated. I doubt they'll make it to the alter, but if they do, I think it's a safe bet that they won't make it two years - maybe not even a year. Off and on for seven years, mostly off, and proposing "to lift her spirits" (he said that) while on some extended vacation at a resort, not in the real world, is not a recipe for lifelong marital bliss. Start your office pools now on when these two will split up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brian and Ericka - no really strong feelings about these two. It's hard to look away from her because she's so pretty (as she should be since was Miss America 2004). She's intense, though. But I think as a couple they're solid and they'll do fine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric and Lisa - the yoga couple, eliminated before the race began. I don't think I like that new feature. I like to see more action than that before someone gets booted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same and Dan - the gay brothers. They'll be a strong team, but no real strong feeling about them yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zev and Justin - I was prepared to be annoyed by Zev since he's got Asberger's, but I'm not. I like these two, and I loved when Zev *owned* the duck challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mika and Canaan - Southern, "sexually pure" singer and songwriter (okay he says he's pure, but she didn't actually say, as J pointed out). Nothing to say on these two yet, and I won't share J's thoughts on them since this a family blog. Oh wait, it's not really a family blog. But I still won't share his thoughts. Sometimes, it's best to just let him share them for himself, lest someone think they're mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, those are our teams! Next week, I'll do more dissecting of the actual action. TAR fans, comment away!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-2771295335592850658?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2771295335592850658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=2771295335592850658&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2771295335592850658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2771295335592850658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/09/and-theyre-off.html' title='And they&apos;re off!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3960097504816106257</id><published>2009-09-25T09:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T09:30:03.739-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope for the future</title><content type='html'>It seems like I'm always hearing negative stories about today's youth (and I'm sure people have been saying that for forever, Grandma - can I get you your shawl?). There's a real epidemic of people not taking responsibility for their actions, feeling a sense of entitlement and not having any compassion for others, and it seems like this decline is worse among young people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to blame it on immaturity, but too often, I think it's a function of how the kids were raised and a culture that does nothing to reward or encourage doing the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why Thamail Morgan gives me hope. Read the whole story &lt;a href="http://arkansasvarsity.rivals.com/content.asp?CID=992976" target="blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. Please - especially if you have kids. Because kids need actual role models from their own peer group on how to behave. And that doesn't mean "how to be perfect." It means how to make the right decisions, even if you've made the wrong ones in the past; how to get back on track; how to do the right thing, even if it means you won't benefit as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you read the story? Okay, then here are the rest of my comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thamail got off track. He is human, and he is young, and as young people start making decisions, they don't always make the right ones. But he was held accountable. He was made to suffer consequences for his bad choices. For that, I applaud his former school. They could've left him on the football team - he's a great player, and I'm sure their team suffered for his loss. But by doing the right thing and holding him accountable, Thamail had the opportunity to learn a valuable life lesson about choices and consequences and to do so at an age where the lesson could benefit him the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Thamail didn't get sullen, cry foul, blame others, play the victim. No, he took the opportunity that was offered him by his old school, by his community - he took responsibility for his actions, accepted the consequences, and looked for a way to learn from it, to get back up and move forward in a better way. He learned the lesson and made new and better choices. For that I applaud Thamail! That is *exactly* the way to succeed in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And his behavior during that difficult game in the story shows just how much Thamail has embraced a life of class, responsibility and integrity. Thamail wants to get a football scholarship. In order to get the attention of scouts, he needs impressive statistics. But at a personal cost to himself (fewer points in his stats), he did the right thing and took a knee at the end of that game, rather than beat up on a team that had already had a beating that week. He did the honorable thing. And now, he has gotten more attention than he ever would've gotten for those extra 6 points. He has been rewarded for his honorability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to be lost in this is credit to his coach for giving him a chance, but with strings attached, to make sure that Thamail understood that he wasn't being given a free pass for his talent and to try and help him grow as a person and a man. Props must also go out to his teammates, who together decided that running up the score on the damaged opponent would be unacceptable (Bob Stoops could use a lesson from these guys), and also to the opponent, who in the face of adversity showed up and did their best, and accepted the class that was extended to them as an honorable gesture and not an insult. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone in this scenario has set an example that we could all stand to follow. The people of that whole area can be very proud of the community they have created. And I hope very much that a university out there will give Thamail Morgan a chance to play at their school. He deserves it, and I think he is likely to be a real leader in his life, on and off the field.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3960097504816106257?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3960097504816106257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3960097504816106257&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3960097504816106257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3960097504816106257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/09/hope-for-future.html' title='Hope for the future'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4243815475377443436</id><published>2009-09-24T10:19:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T10:29:38.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Modern Family</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I think I should just start a TV blog. I love it, after all, and maybe I'd be motivated to post more regularly. But I already have regular gigs that require my time, so I probably don't actually need yet another commitment. With this blog, I just post when the mood strikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, I just have to post a little shout out to the new ABC show &lt;a href="http://abc.go.com/shows/modern-family" target="blank"&gt;Modern Family&lt;/a&gt;. It premiered last night, and let me just pronounce it hilarious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been watching the promos for it for weeks, and I couldn't wait for it to start, and it didn't disappoint. All three of the individual families that come together to create the larger family are just so freakin' funny. I liked them all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I could so relate to the mom of the family that's comprised of the 30-something couple with three kids. The oldest daughter is 15, and the mom is paranoid that her daughter is going to be a wild child like she was, so she's on the alert for every little thing. It just cracks me up, because I know I would be the same way! I'd be like, "Oh you want to do X? Uh, no, you're not doing that because I know what that really means you're going to be doing." My kids wouldn't get away with anything, and it would probably drive them crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's a great show. It's just a half-hour, so give it a shot next Wednesday. Please. Because I really want this show to make it and be around to make me laugh for more than just one season like Pushing Daisies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4243815475377443436?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4243815475377443436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4243815475377443436&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4243815475377443436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4243815475377443436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/09/modern-family.html' title='Modern Family'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3443095392844849406</id><published>2009-09-17T15:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T15:31:04.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I wanna hold your hand...</title><content type='html'>One of the things that makes me happy is seeing an older couple walking down the street holding hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The act of holding hands is an expression both of affection and connection - maybe even possession, though not in the scary, abusive sense of the word that implies, "I own this person," but rather, "I choose this person." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I see an older couple holding hands - when I know that they've been together for decades and they still want to express that affection - that they still want to purposely act to show the world and the other person, "I choose THIS man/woman, among all the men and women that there are" - that they don't take the other person and their presence for granted, well, it puts a lump in my throat. The good kind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3443095392844849406?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3443095392844849406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3443095392844849406&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3443095392844849406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3443095392844849406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-wanna-hold-your-hand.html' title='I wanna hold your hand...'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-2577089630833316078</id><published>2009-09-16T11:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T11:59:07.721-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good grief, Jimmy.</title><content type='html'>Someone should put a muzzle on Jimmy Carter. I mean, REALLY. If the man isn't singing the praises of some dictator somewhere, he's making ridiculous and inflammatory statements like the one yesterday - where he said that the reason Rep. Joe Wilson (R-SC) interrupted President Obama's speech last week was because &lt;a href="http://content.usatoday.com/communities/theoval/post/2009/09/68499168/1?loc=interstitialskip" target="blank"&gt;OBAMA IS BLACK.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you friggin' serious, Carter? You're *really* going to play that card?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wilson didn't shout out "Liar!" during the speech because Obama is black and, by gum, that South Carolina hayseed don't go a-likin it! He yelled "Liar!" because he doesn't believe that if we institute universal healthcare, we won't end up paying not only for Americans' healthcare, but also that of illegal aliens. That's the claim Obama was making, and that's what Wilson was responding to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wilson's protest was out of order, but it had *nothing* to do with the president's skin color. Nor has there been any indication that it did. It has to do with Wilson being a Republican, and Obama being a Democrat. For Carter to say what he did is profoundly incindiary, and he should be ashamed of himself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the rule now that you aren't allowed to disagree with the president's policies (or anyone's stance on an issue at this point), if his skin color is darker than yours? Is that the rule? And if you dare to disagree with that policy, you're a racist - not based on the content of your disagreement, but on the simple fact that the person you disagree with happens to be of another ethnicity? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went through the drama of attempted healthcare reform with Clinton, and people were just as divided then as they are now. And newsflash: Clinton is white. It's not the color of the person speaking. It's the issue. And THAT is what we're all *supposed* to be focusing on and debating - issues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone like Carter is going to play the race card everytime we disagree on an important issue, we're going to stay mired in a culture of racism and impotence. We have to be able to debate and disagree on issues based on their content and merit, strengths and weaknesses, without unfounded accusations being hurled at people, derailing the real discussion and undermining our ability to work together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This kind of crap moves us backward, not forward, as a nation and as a people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-2577089630833316078?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2577089630833316078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=2577089630833316078&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2577089630833316078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2577089630833316078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/09/good-grief-jimmy.html' title='Good grief, Jimmy.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3129122061575952525</id><published>2009-09-14T12:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T12:33:36.740-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Put down the phone, ma'am.</title><content type='html'>Why, oh why, do some people insist on making me actually speak to them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I emailed someone to ask if I could interview them for something. I gave them a general timeframe - "Is there a day/time in the next couple of weeks I could interview you?" kinda thing. Does this person respond with, "Absolutely. How about Tuesday at 1pm?" Of course not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get back, "Yes, I'd be happy to help. Call and arrange a date and time, preferably in the late afternoon and not at the end of the month or on the 1st."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um...first of all, I gave you the next two weeks as my timeframe. So, that kinda sorta means the end of the month or the 1st isn't on the table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, why do I have to call you? We're corresponding on email, and I've already said I'd work around you, so just tell me now - on email, in a correspondence that we're already having - the day and time you want to do it. That's all. Phone calls and actual conversations that will unquestionably take longer than a quick email are *unnecessary* and annoying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there's explanation that's necessary or confusion about something, etc., that makes a conversation more efficient than email, then fine. Let's talk. But if I'm just setting a simple appointment, utilize the technology, people. Email is more efficient...and I don't have to actually talk to anyone. Everybody wins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3129122061575952525?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3129122061575952525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3129122061575952525&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3129122061575952525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3129122061575952525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/09/put-down-phone-maam.html' title='Put down the phone, ma&apos;am.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3084990768853205715</id><published>2009-09-11T11:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T11:43:59.149-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Race is coming back!</title><content type='html'>I saw today that Amazing Race will have a new season starting on September 27! Woo-hoo! Maybe now I'll have something that will push me to blog again - at least on a weekly basis. About that: sorry for hardly ever being here anymore, but I've taken on some new projects that eat up a lot of my blog time. But I'll try to get back in the saddle with Amazing Race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY, &lt;a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/amazing_race/bio/" target="blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; are the new teams. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise to try and blog about the episodes, and I'll do my best not to put any spoilers in the headlines for those who DVR and watch later. In fact, I DVR most things these days and watch later, so I can't *promise* I'll watch live each week, but I will watch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3084990768853205715?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3084990768853205715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3084990768853205715&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3084990768853205715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3084990768853205715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/09/amazing-race-is-coming-back.html' title='Amazing Race is coming back!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3358947534960377426</id><published>2009-08-31T11:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T11:34:44.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Disgraceful</title><content type='html'>So, looking at the online USA Today this morning, I came across this headline: &lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2009-08-29-ga-mobile-home-deaths_N.htm?loc=interstitialskip" target="blank"&gt;Ga. trailer 911 caller: 'My whole family is dead!'&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I clicked to the story, largely because I was hoping that I was wrong about the headline - that there's some explanation for the word "trailer" being used as an adjective in that headline that does not involve where the caller lives. I was not wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;USA actually characterized a 9-1-1 caller as a "Ga. trailer 911 caller" because the man happens to live in a mobile home. That's just patently offensive. What difference does it make where the man lives? If he lived in a single-family detached home, would they have said, "Ga. single-family residence 911 caller?" Is there some relevance to the fact that he lives in a trailer? I mean, yes, the crime he called about happened in a trailer, in Georgia, but the story also mentions that the mobile home is located on an old plantation with moss-draped trees, and there's a boat in the front yard. Did they say, "Ga. plantation trailer with boat in yard 911 caller?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the relevant information in this story is NOT that the man lives in a trailer, but that his whole family was killed. If you want to use his 9-1-1 quote as your headline for dramatic effect, then say, "Georgia 911 caller: 'My whole family is dead!'" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "trailer" labeling is just a way of painting this guy as some kind of hillbilly and the whole situation as some sort of backwoods dueling banjos scene. The most likely scenario is that it's drug-related - the guy had drugs on him, and generally when a whole house full of people are beaten to death, you're looking at the mob or drugs or both. But drug violence can happen just as easily in an apartment in Manhattan as in a mobile home in rural Georgia, so let's dispense with the unnecessary hillbilly characterizations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor journalism, USA Today. Really poor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3358947534960377426?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3358947534960377426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3358947534960377426&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3358947534960377426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3358947534960377426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/08/disgraceful.html' title='Disgraceful'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-1356770161121658967</id><published>2009-08-10T12:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T12:21:58.229-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In the news</title><content type='html'>Part of my job is to read through hundreds of headlines each day and determine which stories would be of interest to the people my company serves. Most of the stories have nothing to do with the work we do, so I gloss right past them, but occasionally, one of the non-applicable headlines catches my eye. Today, it was this one: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sen. Grassley, You Can't Fix a Crap Sandwich"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it must be an editorial, and upon further investigation, I found it was a &lt;a href="http://www.chronwatch-america.com/blogs/1264/Sen-Grassley-You-Cant-Fix-a-Crap-Sandwish.html" target="blank"&gt;blog post&lt;/a&gt; written by a freelance political columnist. Clearly, a newspaper had picked up the piece, since our clipping service only culls through newspapers. I didn't take the time to read the post, because I had to get back to looking through the rest of the headlines at the time. But now that I have a moment, I feel compelled to respond. So, based solely on the headline, my response/follow-up post is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senator Grassley, I don't know you, but I don't think you should fix a crap sandwich. It would be messy and very unpleasant, and I don't think anyone would eat it - no matter what kind of bread you used. I think you should fix something else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-1356770161121658967?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/1356770161121658967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=1356770161121658967&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/1356770161121658967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/1356770161121658967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/08/in-news.html' title='In the news'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5869449775261727565</id><published>2009-07-27T13:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T13:45:45.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rules for Living #2</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I posted any new rules for living, but this weekend I came up with a new one. The rule is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When you have a kettle boiling on the stove, do not attempt to clean the parts of the stove not being used. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, you ask? I mean, if the rest of the stovetop is cool and not in use, surely you can just do a little wipe-down, right? Well, you &lt;strong&gt;can&lt;/strong&gt;, but there's a really good chance that you'll get so wrapped up in the cleaning, that when you spot a splatter of food up on the backsplash, directly above the kettle, which is now pouring a column of steam out of its spout (but not screaming at you since you removed that part of the kettle - wouldn't want to be annoyed by a bleating warning that red-hot steam is shooting forth), you'll just reach right up there to wipe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you'll be sorry you did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sm31p-hz_CI/AAAAAAAAANQ/LLEwID3z2es/s1600-h/burn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sm31p-hz_CI/AAAAAAAAANQ/LLEwID3z2es/s320/burn.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363212832776387618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-5869449775261727565?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5869449775261727565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5869449775261727565&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5869449775261727565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5869449775261727565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/07/rules-for-living-2.html' title='Rules for Living #2'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sm31p-hz_CI/AAAAAAAAANQ/LLEwID3z2es/s72-c/burn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-7359949302074257798</id><published>2009-07-16T15:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T15:43:15.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's the Lysol?</title><content type='html'>This goes in the category of "What the hell is wrong with some people?" or, alternatively, "Why I don't have children."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's another business in the building where I work that shares the same bathrooms that my office uses. This other business is very small - just three people: a man (the boss) and two female employees. They're usually dressed nicely and look far more professional than my own office, but I don't really know what they do. I can assure you what the two women had to do today, though, was NOT in their job descriptions or mentioned in any interivew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boss brought his 5-year-old daughter to the office. She is, apparently, quite the little terror, and thus, should never be brought to the office. If that's not a general rule for all children in an office environment, then it should be a specific one to this child. Here's why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my co-workers went to the restroom. She heard the little darling in the stall next to her. When Darling left the stall, she was giggling. She ran to the door, turned the light out on my co-worker and left the restroom. Co-worker finished her business and turned on the light and then, based on instinct, looked in the stall where Darling had been. It was...disgusting. Darling had taken her solid waste (I'm being gentle) and smeared it all over the place. With her hand. Thus the giggling, because we all know how *hilarious* feces is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker went to the other business to inform them of the state of the bathroom and make sure they knew they must clean it up, whereupon she learned that Darling had done the same thing ALL OVER THEIR OFFICE. Boss Man wasn't there, so the two women had to clean it all up themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foul. Fooooooouuul. People, I can barely stand to clean my own bathroom, and there, anything nasty is actually where it's supposed to be. It's not surrounding me like some kind of excrement hall of horrors. That's a day at work you'll never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we can all assume Darling is starved for attention and "acting out." But whatever they're paying those two women - it's not enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-7359949302074257798?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7359949302074257798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=7359949302074257798&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7359949302074257798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7359949302074257798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/07/wheres-lysol.html' title='Where&apos;s the Lysol?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-252833939747983198</id><published>2009-07-06T15:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T15:45:59.769-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In my email...</title><content type='html'>A job listing came for me today: "Math Teacher/Instructor/Curriculum Developer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me - a math teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody wants that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-252833939747983198?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/252833939747983198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=252833939747983198&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/252833939747983198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/252833939747983198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/07/in-my-email.html' title='In my email...'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3422342582606496924</id><published>2009-06-25T11:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T11:47:22.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Farrah, RIP</title><content type='html'>I just read that Farrah Fawcett has died. Despite my looking askance the other day at the silliness of Ryan O'Neal saying they were going to marry as she lay on her death bed, I want to give the lady her due for a hard fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was ill for a long time, and she fought very hard to beat her cancer. It would've been hard for anyone to go through that, but it must have been especially difficult for someone who based so much of her image on her looks to waste away like that. I'm sorry that it was such a tough road there at the end, and I hope she has peace now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3422342582606496924?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3422342582606496924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3422342582606496924&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3422342582606496924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3422342582606496924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/farrah-rip.html' title='Farrah, RIP'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8510782251901532257</id><published>2009-06-24T15:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T15:50:32.831-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Man, I'm good.</title><content type='html'>When I tell you something is fishy, you may as well get out the tartar sauce. If there's one thing I know, it's when somethin' ain't right and man is a lyin'. Don't even try to spin a tale. Just admit what ya done did. Case in point:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The SC governor was not hiking the Appalachian Trail, incommunicado for a week. (Reeeeeeally???) Yes, really. I know it's shocking. That sounded so believable. But the truth is that the married father &lt;a href="http://www.thestate.com/154/story/838823.html" target="blank"&gt;was in Argentina with his mistress&lt;/a&gt;...over Father's Day weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8510782251901532257?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8510782251901532257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8510782251901532257&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8510782251901532257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8510782251901532257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/man-im-good.html' title='Man, I&apos;m good.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5645857147396450801</id><published>2009-06-23T13:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T13:52:44.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A roundup</title><content type='html'>Lots going on today. Check it out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Ed McMahon &lt;a href="http://www.nbcnewyork.com/news/us_world/NATL-Ed-McMahon-Dead-at-Age-.html" target="blank"&gt;is dead&lt;/a&gt;. He was 86, and the last few years were pretty rough. What an interesting life, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The governor of South Carolina has been found after disappearing for several days. &lt;a href="http://www.thestate.com/local/story/836552.html" target="blank"&gt;He was hiking&lt;/a&gt;. Sorry, but there's gotta be more to this story than the guy just wanted to go hiking. Even I wouldn't be able to just disappear for several days with no one knowing where I am (not even my family??), and I'm not the senior official for an entire state. Something ees fishy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Jon and Kate (Plus 8) &lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/life/people/2009-06-22-jon-kate-divorcing_N.htm"&gt;are divorcing&lt;/a&gt;. But...they seemed so in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. On the other end of the marriage spectrum, Farrah Fawcett and Ryan O'Neal &lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/life/people/2009-06-22-oneal-fawcett-marriage-plans_N.htm" target="blank"&gt;are getting married&lt;/a&gt; - if they can manage it before she dies. I don't mean to be insensitive here, but what exactly is the point? They wouldn't marry for all those years when they were actually sharing a life and raising kids together, then they went their separate ways, but now that she's on death's door, they're willing to take vows? I guess it's easier to commit when you're really not committing yourself to much or for long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. And a Belgian teen claimed last week that she fell asleep after asking a tattoo artist to tattoo three stars on her face, and when she awoke, he had mistakenly tattooed 56 stars. On her face. While she slept. This week, she &lt;a href="http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,528400,00.html" target="blank"&gt;admits that she lied&lt;/a&gt;, and that she had, in fact, asked for all 56 stars and did not, in fact, fall asleep and stay asleep as a man pierced her face with a needle and injected ink under flesh over and over and over and over. You don't say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-5645857147396450801?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5645857147396450801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5645857147396450801&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5645857147396450801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5645857147396450801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/roundup.html' title='A roundup'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3504056439361586085</id><published>2009-06-22T18:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T18:29:31.109-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Diet blogging</title><content type='html'>I posted a rant earlier today. But I decided later in the afternoon that I'd probably just piss off a bunch of people and I wasn't in the mood for that. So, I deleted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you saw something in a blog tracker about a rant on my blog, but now that post isn't here, that's why. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish it were that easy to delete ingested calories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3504056439361586085?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3504056439361586085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3504056439361586085&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3504056439361586085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3504056439361586085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/diet-blogging.html' title='Diet blogging'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4313328641784114448</id><published>2009-06-16T15:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T15:41:07.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And all is well.</title><content type='html'>David Banner went home yesterday. My parents came by on their way home from their vacation, and when David heard my mom's voice, he was happy again, and the world was right. They got him into his cage without having to wear protective gear, and J and I had our house back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaaaaaaah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4313328641784114448?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4313328641784114448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4313328641784114448&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4313328641784114448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4313328641784114448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-all-is-well.html' title='And all is well.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4642011909338139037</id><published>2009-06-14T09:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T10:03:39.488-05:00</updated><title type='text'>NOW you love me!</title><content type='html'>Detente has definitely been achieved, because now every time I go into the bedroom or bathroom, David Banner comes out and wants me to pet him. This is much preferable to hissing, growling or batting at me, but geez Louise, why couldn't he have come to this place six days ago??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad we've achieved this new level of kumbaya, but I'm even happier to report that my folks on their way back and should be picking up David Banner tomorrow. Hallelujah! How nice it will be to sleep in my own bed tomorrow night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, good luck to the Longhorns tonight! Game 1 between Southern Miss and UT in the College World Series - 6 p.m. on ESPN 2. Hook 'em!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4642011909338139037?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4642011909338139037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4642011909338139037&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4642011909338139037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4642011909338139037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/now-you-love-me.html' title='NOW you love me!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4200358760654354434</id><published>2009-06-12T13:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T13:43:08.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Detente?</title><content type='html'>Okay, we may have come upon a detente at the bunalow. After 36 hours of leaving Demon Cat alone, it appears that he may have calmed down. I liken it to The Hulk. He tried to tell us that we wouldn't like him if he got angry, but we pushed him anyway and created a monster. But he is now back to being David Banner - which is what I think I'll call him from now on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went into the bedroom and bathroom this morning to get ready for work, David emerged from under the bed - not to attack me, but apparently to offer an olive branch. He meowed in little meek bursts, as if to say, "Are you still mad at me? Because I'm kind of lonely now, and I don't want you to be mad at me anymore. But I still want this room to myself. So, how about I just keep living in here, and you guys stop trying to grab at me, and I won't try to kill you anymore, and that's how our friendship will work? I'll even let you touch me...you know...when I feel like it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him I could agree to that since it was only going to be for a few more days, and Murphy had started hanging out in his travel crate anyway. My mom will be back in town the first of next week, and I promised him he could go home with her and we would never speak of this week again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the upside, we now know that our airbed works really well if anyone wants to come visit and sleep in our living room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4200358760654354434?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4200358760654354434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4200358760654354434&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4200358760654354434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4200358760654354434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/detente.html' title='Detente?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3947710920639171752</id><published>2009-06-11T10:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T11:02:27.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It ain't over</title><content type='html'>The cat is still in my house. He is a demon. I understand that in reality, he is just scared, and yesterday's events as we tried to wrangle him into the cat carrier just served to make things worse. But knowing that he is psychotic because he is scared does not change the fact that he is possessed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home yesterday, we put a plan into action. We put on protective gear (gloves and jackets), armed ourselves with brooms, and put the cat carrier at the ready. First we tried it J's way. We blocked him off (we thought) with the goal of shoving him out from under the bed with brooms so that he would run into the carrier. I was on the far side of the bed and was to push him toward the side with the cat carrier, and J was on the "action" side of the bed, ready to push him into the carrier and slam the door shut when he was inside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pushed at him with the broom, which served only to enrage him, and rather than running away from the broom, out from under the bed on J's side, where the carrier was waiting, he turned and ran toward MY side of the bed. I screamed and jumped backward as the screeching, fang-bearing angry bundle of terror ran at me. He veered, though, right at the end and scooted out from under the bed to the right of me and beelined under the clothes in our open closet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, we thought. Okay. We can actually get at him easier from there. Now, we do it my way. I have J upend the carrier so that the mouth is at the top. I will grab him by the scruff and drop him, butt-first, into the carrier. I approached. He warned. I grabbed. But my gloves made it difficult to get a good grip, and his warning became far more alarming, and I got scared (as did J) in short order that he still had the ability to turn around was about to rip my hand apart...through my gloves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tried a little longer to box him in, and we pushed at him with the brooms, hoping he'd run into the carrier to get away from us, but it was to no avail. He just got angrier and scarier, and we got more and more aware of our own vulnerability. J: "I think I should've worn jeans instead of shorts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right at the moment we gave up, my mom called. I said that was it - I was going to tell her what was going on and ask if she had any tricks. She didn't really, except she said that if he couldn't see, he'd calm down, so we should try putting a towel or bedspread over him if we could get him out in the open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We elected not to try anything else last night since he was now on high alert and ready to kill us. So, we went for Plan B. We gave him the bedroom and slept on an air mattress in the living room. I WISH I were joking. But we couldn't spend another night with him in the bedroom, especially now that we were at war. I honestly think he would've slit our throats in the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We both slept okay, all things considered, and this morning, after J got back from his morning bike ride and swim, he spotted Demon Cat sleeping under the bedspread on top of the bed. He thought of my mom's advice and tried to grab him. Demon Cat not only did not calm down, he tried to bite J through the sheet and bedspread and succeeded in tearing the sheet - my 400-count, expensive sheet. And pissed himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fan-friggin-tastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a last ditch, I looked online today to see if there were over-the-counter sedatives available for cats, but apparently you have to get them from a vet and they actually have to see the cat, so unless a vet is willing to make a house call, I guess that's out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for now, we are defeated. We will give up the fight and let him have the bedroom - either until he finally lets his guard down and we can get to him or my mom gets home. Someone is seriously going to get hurt - him or us - if this continues. And I don't want anything else damaged. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only there were a Cat Whisperer out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3947710920639171752?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3947710920639171752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3947710920639171752&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3947710920639171752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3947710920639171752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/it-aint-over.html' title='It ain&apos;t over'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-2242779443515731240</id><published>2009-06-10T11:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T11:19:35.661-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I tried. I really tried.</title><content type='html'>My folks went on vacation this past weekend, and I agreed to cat-sit for their very large, very moody Siamese. Because they live about 45 minutes away, this meant that the cat would come to my house, and I'd look after him until they got back - somewhere around a 1.5 week, but possibly longer. Their timeline for this trip is fluid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, J and I went on Sunday and picked up the cat and brought him to the new bungalow. Those last three words are key. See, I've done this cat-sitting thing before for them, but I was in my old house - with 3 bedrooms and more than twice the square footage. I gave the cat the front bedroom all for himself. It takes this cat about a week of shunning you (sometimes forcefully, with spitting and warning growls and lashing out at you with a - thankfully - clawless front paw) to decide he's lonely enough for your companionship to give up the fight and behave at least somewhat normally. In the old house, I could wait out that week by just leaving him be in the front room until he eventually sought me out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the new house is a whole new ballgame. In order to keep my cat from terrorizing the demon houseguest cat, we have to keep them separated. My cat gets the front of the house, where she usually hangs out anyway, and demon houseguest gets the bedroom and bathroom. THE bedroom and bathroom - there are no "spares" in this house. That means that we're sleeping in the same room he is. And this is where this arrangement becomes a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cat is miserable and scared, and he keeps us up all night with intermittent howls, the occasional jump on the bed which ends with one or both of us being startled awake and him hissing and jumping back down, puking (that was night 2), and (starting last night) banging on the door somehow. We don't know if he's using his paw to try and jimmy the bedroom door open or if he's headbutting it, but he did it all night long and it woke us every time. On top of that, I got up with a flashlight to see what he was doing and saw him jet under the bed and when I kneeled down to see him and try to figure out what was up and maybe console him, he growled at me in what can only be described as a threatening and somewhat terrifying manner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I can't take it anymore. We've barely slept the last three nights, and the situation isn't getting the least bit better, and there's really no other arrangement considering our house and his personality, so I'm going to have to take him back home and just make the trek down there to feed and check on him every other day. There's just no other option. It's just not working out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about whether to tell my folks that I'm changing the arrangement, but I decided that if I tell them, they'll decide that the new arrangement is too much of an inconvenience for me and they'll cut their trip short. I don't want them to do that because they were much delayed in even making this trip, so I want them to enjoy themselves and not be worried about me or him. I'll tell them when they're on their way back, and we'll work something else out for future trips. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't look forward to trying to wrangle this cat back into his crate when I get home. I haven't even been able to touch him since we picked him up on Sunday. But if I can get through that part, the rest will be easy. And maybe tonight we can ALL sleep!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-2242779443515731240?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2242779443515731240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=2242779443515731240&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2242779443515731240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2242779443515731240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-tried-i-really-tried.html' title='I tried. I really tried.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3368436892681102527</id><published>2009-06-09T11:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T12:11:49.589-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks for your help?</title><content type='html'>When I changed my old house into a rental property, I had to change my homeowners insurance policy. I ended up changing companies, which means I got a refund for part of the preemium on the old policy that I cancelled. My mortgage company sent me a letter and told me to send that payment to them to put into my escrow account, but they didn't give me instructions on how to do so (how to endorse the check, etc.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I called the customer service number on the letter. After bypassing as much of the phone tree as possible by pushing "0" at every available turn, I got a person pretty quickly on the line. I told her what I needed, and she proceeded to ask me a series of questions - my loan number and various security questions to verify who I am, etc. I patiently answered everything, and at the end of all that, she informed me that she couldn't actually answer my question. She would have to pass me to someone in a different department who actually handled that issue, and oh, by the way, I would have to answer all the same verification/security questions to that lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....if you knew up front that you couldn't help me and that you would be transferring me, and you knew that whoever you transferred me to would put me through all those security questions, why did you just put me through them all yourself? Do you really need to know all of that information just to say the words, "I'll need to transfer you?" Because you knew you'd need to transfer me as soon as I told you what I needed. Efficiency at its finest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and for the record, the letter was wrong. I'm not supposed to send the mortgage company the refund check. I'm supposed to deposit it and send them a personal check in the same amount, but made out to them, with a sticky note telling them to deposit it in my escrow account. Now, that sounds official, doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quake for the financial future of this country.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3368436892681102527?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3368436892681102527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3368436892681102527&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3368436892681102527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3368436892681102527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/thanks-for-your-help.html' title='Thanks for your help?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-9040210897908464093</id><published>2009-06-08T09:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T10:09:41.972-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back. Honest.</title><content type='html'>Man, life has been crazy the last couple of weeks. I've been MIA here on Blogger, but it couldn't be avoided. I'll try to catch up this week. I'll start with the vacation that J and I took at the end of May/first of June. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally, it was supposed to just be a road trip anywhere. I just wanted to get away for a bit - have no real set agenda and be able to stop and look and historical markers, eat at roadside diners - just hit the road. I asked J which direction he wanted to go, and he said East. He asked if we could make Nashville part of the trip. I said sure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He proceeded to find a showcase he wanted to attend and to set up meetings with three of his contacts there so that before I knew it, we were on a schedule. We had to be there by a certain date and we had appointments the whole time, and on top of that, we ended up landing a gig the weekend before we left, and it cost a day or two of road time, so we ended up on a tight schedule to get to Nashville. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that But the visit there was a lot of fun. We had a chance to play a set while we were there, which was great, and I really enjoyed the folks I met. But I've decided that our next vacation will involve no work, no schedules and relaxing downtime only! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get validation of one thing that I learned last year when we took our vacation to Utah, though - J and I really travel well together! We can spend surprising amounts of time together, even couped up in a car, and not want to kill each other. I honestly never get tired of spending time with that man. It must be love. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here's how the week played out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Drive to Dallas. Visit Dealey Plaza, find a bathroom, get back on the road. Have dinner at Wendy's in Texarkana. See the most amazing sunset ever. Get back on the road. Arrive in Little Rock, Arkansas and spend the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Drive through Arkansas to Memphis on really bad roads but with really pretty scenery. Stop in Memphis and enjoy several hours exploring Beale Street. Lunch at the Hard Rock, which had a big Elvis theme and was quite inspiring as a musician. We find out Lil Rounds is supposed to perform at the Hard Rock at 3:30. We stick around, but by 4:15, still no Lil, and we had to get on the road to Nashville to make the showcase J wanted to see, so we leave, just in time to see Lil coming down the road in a convertible, escorted by a marching band. Seriously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We manage a quick stop at Graceland before leaving Memphis. We found it quite depressing, though, because the entire rock fence and sidewalk outside are covered with graffiti from "fans." If you're a real fan, I'm not sure you vandalize the man's home. Why not just piss on his grave while you're at it? Back on the road and off to Nashville.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrive in Nashville in time to find a hotel room, get changed and get to showcase. The showcase was cool. We saw three bands before deciding we were tired and ready to go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 3:&lt;/strong&gt; Get up in time for the free breakfast at the hotel. Discover that "breakfast" is a relative term, since the Indian proprieters of our hotel defined it as 2 ripe bananas, 2 overripe bananas, powdered sugar donuts, apple and orange juices and saltines. You read that right. Saltines. For breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch with an old friend of J's, who was quite fun. A visit to a guitar store in downtown Nashville, which had some really cool instruments. An afternoon meeting with his old entertainment lawyer. Back to the hotel to rest for a couple of hours, then out for an evening visit with another old friend of his - a fascinating musician and sculptor. Then on to the lunch friend's gig and an open mike where we got to play a set. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 4: &lt;/strong&gt;Don't bother with breakfast at hotel (see Day 3's entry about breakfast). Check out and head to lunch friend's house for a last visit before we head east for Asheville, NC. After the visit, get back on road. An hour out of town, remember that we left our tempurpedic pillows at hotel. Return to Nashville. Now starving. Eat lunch and decide that to scrap Asheville from plans. Maybe Savannah? Visit Charlie Daniel's Museum, then discover that Savannah is 8 hours away. Scrap Savannah. Atlanta? Sure, let's go to Atlanta! I book room, and we head out on highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.5 hours later, we see a sign that says, "Welcome to Alabama!" J cautiously asks, "Why are we in Alabama?" Umm...I don't know. Answer: we have taken wrong highway out of Nashville. We replot course for Atlanta, but 3 hours later, we abandon Atlanta. I eat the cost of the Atlanta hotel and we stop in Oxford, Alabama. We're just too tired to keep driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 5: We start heading back west. We stop in Birmingham, AL for lunch and I have my second taste of sweet tea (the first was in Nashville). I feel myself become momentarily diabetic and decide I will avoid sweet tea for the rest of my life. We make it to Jackson, Mississippi (commence singing Johnny Cash/June Carter song).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 6: We leave Jackson and continue west. We dance a little jig in the car when we see the "Welcome to Texas" sign. We are home! We stop in Tyler for the night and have a nice visit in the hotel pool with some guys from Houston. They're in Tyler for a croquet tournament. Who knew there even WERE croquet tournaments, much less in Tyler, Texas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 7: We visit the Tyler Rose Garden before leaving town. It's spectactular, and I declare that if I'm ever forced to live in Tyler, I will spend all my time at the garden. We get on the road to head for Austin. J has plotted a course, and two hours in we discover that yet again, we have taken the wrong highway out of town. Fortunately, this time it works to our advantage. It's actually going to save us time, and the drive is much prettier than our original course would have been. I personally think these little unexepected routes make things more interesting. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We make it home, happy to have had our adventure and happy to be home! I luckily had another day before I had to go back to work so I could unpack and decompress before starting back to the grind. All in all, a great trip!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-9040210897908464093?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/9040210897908464093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=9040210897908464093&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/9040210897908464093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/9040210897908464093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-back-honest.html' title='I&apos;m back. Honest.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3210387947429001376</id><published>2009-05-22T15:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T16:04:07.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My two cents</title><content type='html'>I know it's supposed to be Sitcom Friday, but I haven't had a chance yet to comment about American Idol, and I feel like I must.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I griped weeks ago about Adam Lambert, I feel it is my duty to now issue a thought or two on his loss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I won't lie. I'm glad Kris one. After Danny got tossed, and it was down to Kris or Adam, Kris was definitely my choice. And it's not because Adam is gay and I'm prejudiced or any of that rot. It's because Kris's STYLE is more sellable. This is a contest where the prize is a recording contract and, hopefully, a singing career, and while the Adam lovers out there can't gush enough about his amazing talent (and can't tell the rest of us enough about what plebes we are for not loving it to the core of our being), the fact is, the majority of people out there would not pay to listen in their cars to an entire album of his songs. They just wouldn't. Adam is a showman, and that's not what's being downloaded on iTunes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. That said, I have to make it clear that I DO feel Adam is talented. The fact that I don't care for his style and think Kris and Danny would make more profitable and listenable recording artists doesn't mean I can't appreciate his talent, and I definitely think he has a career ahead of him - on stage. Adam should be a stage performer. He should be on Broadway or should have a glam band of some kind that's all about theatrics and big lights and costume changes, etc. There's an audience out there for that, and they would LOOOOOOOVE Adam in that role. I'm just not in that audience, nor are the majority of American Idol voters, as evidenced by the fact that Kris not only won, but won by a large margin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Not only do I think Adam is talented, I think he's a really nice guy. I really do. I think he's genuine and kind, and he's not some pompous ass that I snarl at every time he comes on stage. If I snarled at something, it was the bias the judges and media were showing him. I found that really unfair to the other contestants, and I hated that they wanted to manipulate me as a voter. But that's not Adam. He just went out there each week and did the best that he could, taking advantage of the resources at his disposal - AS HE SHOULD. Adam was never a jerk, and being a decent human being is far more important than being a talented one any day of the week. That will serve him for his entire life, and I wish him well because of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If someone preferred Kris or Danny to Adam, it doesn't mean they have an uneducated ear and that Americans are idiots or that we "got it wrong." You can't get it wrong. You like what you like, and you cast your vote in favor of that. There is no right or wrong - there's what people like or don't like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If more people like Kris Allen/Keith Urban than do Adam Lambert/KISS, they're not wrong - they simply like something different than what the Lambert fans like. If someone is really super-talented at yodeling, you may be able to make an argument that, "Well, Kris Allen can't make his voice do that!" But if I don't like yodeling, then it doesn't matter how great the yodeler is, I'm still going to vote in favor of Kris Allen because I prefer what he does. And if that's what you like, you're not "wrong" - anymore than someone who prefers brunettes to blondes is "wrong." Blondes are not intrinsically more beautiful (sorry, J), and a person likes what they like, and while Adam is great at what he does, if I don't like what he does, then that's my preference/opinion, and it's valid - as valid as someone's preference FOR what Adam does. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the folks who like Lambert should stop ranting vitriol that the rest of us are stupid. And Adam should keep being the good person that he is and follow the path where his talent and hard work lead him, because it will definitely lead to success. And Kris should embrace the vote of confidence in what he has to offer that this win represents, and he should listen carefully to the professionals that will help guide him to success if he'll let them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's my two cents. Have a great weekend!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3210387947429001376?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3210387947429001376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3210387947429001376&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3210387947429001376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3210387947429001376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-two-cents.html' title='My two cents'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8143465036691288674</id><published>2009-05-19T15:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T15:58:06.728-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So close</title><content type='html'>This has been parked in my office building's parking lot this week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/ShMdGn37wSI/AAAAAAAAANI/Ycpqp_-77Pc/s1600-h/Lotus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/ShMdGn37wSI/AAAAAAAAANI/Ycpqp_-77Pc/s320/Lotus.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337641982984175906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a Lotus - no idea what year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm no car aficionado, but even I know this car is expensive. Way more so than, say, my Hyundai (which I love - no diss intended, but I'm just tellin it like it is).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone in my building can afford this, then I'm very close to serious financial success. And by "close," I mean, "in proximity." I'm not, in fact, within striking distance of this success myself. I'm just saying it's nearby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8143465036691288674?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8143465036691288674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8143465036691288674&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8143465036691288674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8143465036691288674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-close.html' title='So close'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/ShMdGn37wSI/AAAAAAAAANI/Ycpqp_-77Pc/s72-c/Lotus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5011167557777653626</id><published>2009-05-15T11:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T11:13:24.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gimme A Break!</title><content type='html'>You thought I was gonna rant, didn't you? But that would be so unlike me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I'm referring to the 80s Nell Carter show, Gimme a Break. What's great about this show was how it portrayed both who I wanted to be and who I was. (See how it's always about me? Well, it is MY blog!) I *wanted* to be Nell, and I *was* Julie - nerdy smart girl with mousy brown permed hair and glasses. But oh, how I yearned to be the wise, smart-ass with the heart of gold and the sharp tongue! I wanted to be able to crack the whip and still have everyone love me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/41VhkDwC9wY&amp;hl=en&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/41VhkDwC9wY&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;Everyone assumes that every little girl wanted to be Katie - the beautiful blonde older sister. But for me, it was all about Nell. I even wanted to be a singer like Nell Carter, beltin' it out on the big stage and winning Tony awards (or Grammys or whatever else would denote a successful singing career). I was sad when she died in 2003. She was only 54 - much too young. That woman had a lot more singing to do and zingers to sling! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a sidenote, I also complained alot that they needed to cut Joey Lawrence's hair. I was never much into that bowl cut he had. He seems to have taken my advice to heart. Whoa! (Yes, I know that's a Blossom reference, not Gimme A Break, but hey - gimme a break!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SgsRRjZmB8I/AAAAAAAAANA/_nWCvyP23JY/s1600-h/joey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SgsRRjZmB8I/AAAAAAAAANA/_nWCvyP23JY/s320/joey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335377176808523714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-5011167557777653626?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5011167557777653626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5011167557777653626&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5011167557777653626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5011167557777653626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/05/gimme-break.html' title='Gimme A Break!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SgsRRjZmB8I/AAAAAAAAANA/_nWCvyP23JY/s72-c/joey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6795120409609005519</id><published>2009-05-13T10:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T10:01:58.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I thought we settled this in 1984.</title><content type='html'>I remember when I saw Footloose as a freshman in high school, it seemed far-fetched. A town with no dancing allowed? Come on, now! That kinda thing doesn't really exist. It was the 80s for pity's sake! The 20th century! But it had a great soundtrack, so I'd suspend my disbelief for a couple of hours. Let's hear it for the boy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But apparently, such nonsense does, in fact, exist. And not just in Saudi Arabia or Afghanistan, but right here in the good ole U.S.A.! A Christian high school in Ohio actually &lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/offbeat/2009-05-11-ohio-dance-teen_N.htm" target="blank"&gt;suspended one of its students &lt;/a&gt;for attending his girlfriend's public high school prom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfreakinbelievable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if the kids at that school are also not allowed to view Michelangelo's David and if books with curse words are burned? For the record, I'm a Christian, so I'm not some religion hater, but seriously. Those people need to get a grip. There is nothing evil about dancing. BABIES dance to music before they can even walk or talk! It's human, and it's fun, and it's exercise, and doesn't lead to anything that can't be led to without dancing. Do some people dirty it up? Sure. Just like songs, or language, or photography, or any other form of communication. But because some people want to make something ugly doesn't mean all forms of it should be banned. If that were the case, a lot of beauty, joy, celebration and even glorification would never be experienced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So dance, Ohio kids! Dance, I say!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have no choice, really, but to post the video of the Footloose title track:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nwBbMXYDsXw&amp;hl=en&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/nwBbMXYDsXw&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 for good measure, here I am last summer at the mill from the movie - the one where Ren worked and they held their dance. That's right - THE mill! (I think that's a Burger King drive-thru across the street that I'm standing in if I remember correctly...it's not quite like it was in 1984 anymore.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SgnmOYfk0OI/AAAAAAAAAM4/4tPeSXqpBwM/s1600-h/footloose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SgnmOYfk0OI/AAAAAAAAAM4/4tPeSXqpBwM/s320/footloose.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335048368364507362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl gets around. And I'm holding out for a hero.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6795120409609005519?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6795120409609005519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6795120409609005519&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6795120409609005519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6795120409609005519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-thought-we-settled-this-in-1984.html' title='I thought we settled this in 1984.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SgnmOYfk0OI/AAAAAAAAAM4/4tPeSXqpBwM/s72-c/footloose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8694313396418325525</id><published>2009-05-12T10:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T10:28:44.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Would you like fries with that?</title><content type='html'>Austin dodged a bullet. We came *this* close to having a mayor named Brewster McCracken. I'm so not joking - that's a real name by a real political candidate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would've meant Austin's highest official would've been Mayor McCracken. Tell me that doesn't sound like Mayor McCheese. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, he bowed out of the run-off with Lee Leffingwell. I honestly don't know the man's politics. I just moved back into the city two months ago (before then I was outside city limits and couldn't vote in city elections, so I didn't keep up), and was way too busy getting settled in to get educated on the candidates and be in a position to vote. But I have to believe it's in the city's interest to have a Mayor Leffingwell instead of a Mayor McCracken. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that sounds shallow, but the man's name sounds like a 9-year-old boy's joke about his butt. "Hey, pull up your pants - I can see your McCracken!!" That couldn't have been an advantage to our national reputation, could it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, this is for the best. Leffingwell. Sounds like "living well." I think that's more what we're going for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this will be a new trend for me - picking political candidates based on their names. It would certainly save me time on researching the issues!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8694313396418325525?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8694313396418325525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8694313396418325525&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8694313396418325525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8694313396418325525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/05/would-you-like-fries-with-that.html' title='Would you like fries with that?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8201690636362207962</id><published>2009-05-08T09:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T09:05:49.554-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There's gonna be troublllle!</title><content type='html'>This week's trip down Sitcom Memory Lane is probably mostly for the ladies. It was the show that made every girl want to go away to boarding school: "The Facts of Life." I chose the Season 4 theme song since that's really the way I remember the girls of Eastland. Season 1 had too large of a cast (including a VERY young Molly Ringwald!): &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sftm2bXAKOI/AAAAAAAAAMo/I1WZfXLlwnw/s1600-h/facts1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sftm2bXAKOI/AAAAAAAAAMo/I1WZfXLlwnw/s320/facts1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330967669166319842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as we all know, "It takes a lot to get 'em right." This is the song and the cast that I think of when I think of "The Facts of Life":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WmgIXH4Bp9g&amp;hl=en&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/WmgIXH4Bp9g&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/18658900-8201690636362207962?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8201690636362207962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8201690636362207962&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8201690636362207962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8201690636362207962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/05/theres-gonna-be-troublllle.html' title='There&apos;s gonna be troublllle!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sftm2bXAKOI/AAAAAAAAAMo/I1WZfXLlwnw/s72-c/facts1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4801447734486845076</id><published>2009-05-06T18:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T18:38:14.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta love my new neighborhood</title><content type='html'>I've seriously got to keep the camera more handy around my new house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night, I was out front, and the lady next door whispered for me to Look! Quick! I looked across at the cemetery where she was pointing, and there were a beautiful pair of foxes. Seems they hang out there at night. Awesome! J and I watched again the next night, and there were three, so there must be a little family of them that hunt for mice and such. Who knew? I've been trying to figure out how to get a picture without scaring them with a flash, but mostly I'll have to make sure my cat doesn't think she can tangle with them. That is a trip to the vet I do not need. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as cool as the foxes are, it just got a whole lot weirder. Just now, I glanced out the window as a lady passed by walking her two dogs on a leash, and trailing behind her, right on her heels was a white...dog? NO! It was a goat! A goat, out for a walk with Mom and the dogs in the middle of the city! The cruised by too quickly for me to grab the camera, but I'm going to have to start documenting this neighborhood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My, oh my, how I do love this new house!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4801447734486845076?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4801447734486845076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4801447734486845076&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4801447734486845076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4801447734486845076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/05/gotta-love-my-new-neighborhood.html' title='Gotta love my new neighborhood'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-1951891035381045107</id><published>2009-05-05T15:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T16:18:30.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>They're droppin like flies!</title><content type='html'>Aw, man. Now Dom Deluise has died. That guy had one of the best all-time laughs. Hands down. Rest in peace, Dom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WvHTeNThAo0&amp;hl=en&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/WvHTeNThAo0&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/18658900-1951891035381045107?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/1951891035381045107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=1951891035381045107&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/1951891035381045107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/1951891035381045107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/05/theyre-droppin-like-flies.html' title='They&apos;re droppin like flies!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-2153480494536089951</id><published>2009-05-01T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T08:30:00.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Day at a Time</title><content type='html'>So, the whole "Maude" thing a few days ago got me nostalgic for the sitcoms of my youth. Not only do I enjoy TV, but as a singer, I'm also a fan of the TV theme song (thus my mention yesterday of the Greatest American Heroes band - that's two plugs, guys - what do I get for my marketing efforts??). So, I decided to take a little trip down memory lane and find some of my favorite 70s sitcom theme songs to share. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I may make this a standing Friday thang for a while, in the same vein as &lt;a href="http://judysbragblog.blogspot.com/" target="blank"&gt;Judy's&lt;/a&gt; Friday Flashback of 80s music videos. I ran out of steam quickly when I started to do this with cartoons (mostly because so few people shared my cartoon humor), but I think I'm gonna hit some gold with sitcoms. You all like to pretend you're too good for TV, but I'm gonna be bringin' back some memories with the gems I dig up! Take it to the bank!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So "Maude" notwithstanding, since I didn't actually get the theme song, let's start this nostalgia train with a litte "One Day at a Time." This is a good one. Mackenzie Phillips before the drugs caught up to her. Bonnie Franklin when hip women believed that bra-less was cool (until they all discovered their boobs had gotten all droopy and stretch-marked). Schneider - because it's fun to say his name. Valerie Bertinelli when she was young and cute. Oh, how I wanted her hair! And I learned a valuable lesson from this show: running away with your teenage boyfriend in his van is not as much fun as you think it will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/M82CUd6isyY&amp;hl=en&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/M82CUd6isyY&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/18658900-2153480494536089951?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2153480494536089951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=2153480494536089951&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2153480494536089951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2153480494536089951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/05/one-day-at-time.html' title='One Day at a Time'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5281315965122228217</id><published>2009-04-29T09:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T09:33:30.032-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You swine!</title><content type='html'>What's old is new again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nALE92YGcMs&amp;hl=en&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/nALE92YGcMs&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/18658900-5281315965122228217?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5281315965122228217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5281315965122228217&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5281315965122228217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5281315965122228217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-swine.html' title='You swine!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-7893060720962587607</id><published>2009-04-28T10:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T11:19:54.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And then there's Maude...</title><content type='html'>I'm a little late getting to this, but Bea Arthur died this past week. I always liked the way she delivered a sharp line with her withering glare. The line always came after a long pause that had you laughing before she even got to the jab. I looked for a clip of her doing one of those trademark cuts, but I couldn't find one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also looked for the Maude theme song, which I like. There's a band here in Austin called The Greatest American Heroes, and their schtick is that they perform all TV theme songs. It's way fun to see them and sing along, and they always start their show with the Maude theme song. It's got groove, baby! But I couldn't find that either (except a version where Rosie O'Donnell is singing it to Bea, and I just can't abide by Rosie O'Donnell).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, instead, I'll include this tribute to Bea that someone put together. God'll getcha for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IHpFGtyRVys&amp;hl=en&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/IHpFGtyRVys&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/18658900-7893060720962587607?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7893060720962587607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=7893060720962587607&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7893060720962587607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7893060720962587607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-then-theres-maude.html' title='And then there&apos;s Maude...'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-7405050883190889746</id><published>2009-04-23T09:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T09:32:24.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spin - like Web MD but different</title><content type='html'>I happened to see the cover of Spin magazine this morning - I guess it's the most recent issue. It has No Doubt on it. Anyway, I glanced at the blurbs enticing you to read the stories inside. Gwen Stefani is going to perform again with No Doubt. "I felt like I was cheating on them!" she exclaimed, according to the cover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I looked at the other blurbs. It promised health tips from rock stars. Hmmm - seems like an odd resource for health advice, but I'll bite. So, I look at the quote from some guy from some band I've never heard of: "I've stopped smoking crack!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't that kind of like saying, "I've stopped pointing a loaded pistol at my head and pulling the trigger!" and claiming that's a health tip?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-7405050883190889746?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7405050883190889746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=7405050883190889746&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7405050883190889746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7405050883190889746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/04/spin-like-web-md-but-different.html' title='Spin - like Web MD but different'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3968403298474100012</id><published>2009-04-22T11:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T11:55:20.137-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is why you come here.</title><content type='html'>So, I've been working a cold, or possibly allergy, since Saturday. Sore throat for a couple of days, followed by several days of congestion headache and constant nose-blowing. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I decided to use some nose spray to help open up the old sinus passages before I went to bed - try to keep down the possibility of any snoring since J is a light sleeper and the slightest noise in the night is met with, "It's like Armageddon in here!" (Okay, he's never actually said that, but he IS a light sleeper and everything wakes him up.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grab the bottle, shove it up one of my breathing holes, as instructed, squeeze the bottle and FWUP!! The entire nozzle decapitated from the bottle and propelled itself up my nostril with such force that it actually stuck! I'm not even joking. Because we're past the first two months of dating, I stepped into the doorway without removing it and said to J, "Look at this! Can you believe this??" He laughed, thank God, instead of turning away and saying, "Gross!" I followed up by asking, "Who does this happen to besides me?" He had no answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I didn't think to grab a camera, there is no still photography or video of the event, so instead, I'll share this with you today. It'll be stuck in your head all day. You're welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xp9Gm-aRe5A&amp;hl=en&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/xp9Gm-aRe5A&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/18658900-3968403298474100012?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3968403298474100012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3968403298474100012&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3968403298474100012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3968403298474100012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-why-you-come-here.html' title='This is why you come here.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6825930444505485209</id><published>2009-04-21T11:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T16:43:26.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll just have a Diet Coke.</title><content type='html'>So, I'm clawing back to normalcy after an extremely rough work week last week. My company had its annual conference last week, and it involves many, many extra hours, mostly on my feet, with very little sleep. I've decided I'm getting too old for all that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also much too old to do things like getting shit-faced drunk in front of my co-workers and professional peers, to the point that I'm drunk-crying in a service area beause I can't find my purse, and other professional people who are actually *working* the event I'm at must be assigned to me as a "keeper" because no one is sure I won't end up falling face-first down an escalator in the foyer. I have discovered that other people in my industry are NOT too old for this, despite the fact that they are a good 10-15 years older than I am. There's a word for that: pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'll admit that I pretty much don't drink anymore. J doesn't drink and doesn't like it if I do, and it wasn't an important enough activity for me to keep doing it if it bothered him. So, I'm admittedly out of that lifestyle to a great degree. But even before I started dating J, I had come to the conclusion that heavy drinking was probably something I'd do best to avoid, based on how I felt the next day. Yes, there's the obvious: a hangover. I despise feeling sick and losing the entire next day to feeling like shit and knowing I'd done it all to myself. It rarely seemed worth it in the light of day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there was also the anxiety. I'd often find myself replaying the night before and wondering how big of an ass I'd made of myself. Had I been annoying? Had I said something embarrasing? Did I just plain look like a stupid drunk? I never, ever came away feeling like, "Wow, I really did myself a favor last night!" So, J notwithstanding, I'd come to the conclusion that large amounts of alcohol really didn't serve me well on the whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it surprises me that other people go year after year, getting older, growing wiser, but they don't seem to learn that lesson. I'm not talking about a glass of wine with dinner or the occasional extra cocktail or two that leaves a gregarious buzz - I'm talking about can-barely-walk, might-throw-up, slurring, gonna-wanna-die-in-the-morning sauced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you didn't want to give up that lovely experience for life, wouldn't you at least decide at some point that your best bet is to reserve that condition for family and friends, who love you, not people you have to work with, either in-house or customers - people who need to believe in your competence and judgement in order to do business with you? If nothing else, it just doesn't seem like a good professional choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But maybe I'm missing something important in the corporate culture. Maybe that's why I haven't climbed "the ladder" any further than I have. Luckily, I'm not really interested in climbing much higher. I'm pretty sure I'd just end up falling off after a few drinks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6825930444505485209?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6825930444505485209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6825930444505485209&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6825930444505485209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6825930444505485209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/04/ill-just-have-diet-coke.html' title='I&apos;ll just have a Diet Coke.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4853287986349160847</id><published>2009-04-14T10:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T10:40:17.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone has their limit.</title><content type='html'>I think my attic has had enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been filling it up pretty good since we moved in. The new house is smaller than the old one, but the attic has more usable space, so I've been methodically filling it with things that were once stored in spare closets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a chore. We've had to put down plywood to create a floor, and it's been hot up there. Some of the boxes are quite heavy, and while you can stand up in some places, mostly you're crouching as you move around up there - sometimes with a heavy box in your hands, which is awesome for your back. The a.c. unit and water heater are up there, so there are lines of various kinds running around that you have to be careful not to knock around, and there's insulation that you don't want to get all over yourself. Oh, and we don't have a pull-down staircase, so we've had to get the ladder out every time we want to get up there, which has been frequent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, all in all, it's been a pain, but it's been effective. Last night, I was putting the last of the stuff up there, and I guess I should've told that to the attic. "Attic, this is the last of it. We won't be bothering you too often from here on out." I say this because it attacked me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up the ladder and was crouched over the door opening so that as J handed boxes up to me, I could grab them and then put them where I wanted them. I was in the same spot I'd been in many times over the last few weeks with no problems. But then it happened. I raised up, and the roof attacked me. I know what you're thinking - "She banged her head." If only. No, one of the roofing tacks (the terribly sharp and unclean nails used to attach the shingles to your roof) reached out and stabbed itself into my lower back. And when I say it stabbed me, I don't mean that it scratched me - I mean that it punctured a hole into my back. I guess the attic had reached the end of its patience with my intrusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said many bad words...or more accurately, just one bad word over and over with great force. And J looked at my with wide eyes, trying to figure out what exactly had happened. I don't remember if I told him or not, but I do remember saying, "Let's just finish this!" Yes, I went ahead and moved up all the boxes before descending to inspect the damage. Had I been injured and not finished the job, it would've seemed like it was for naught. So, we finished, and then I went down and J did triage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a nice, round puncture - very tender, but not bleeding. J cleaned it with peroxide and put on the old standard: neosporin and a bandaid. I had a tetanus shot a few years ago for something else, so I was good on that score. And by this morning, it was actually looking really good. You can hardly see it among all my freckles, moles, etc. But the attic should know - this ain't over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4853287986349160847?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4853287986349160847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4853287986349160847&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4853287986349160847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4853287986349160847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/04/everyone-has-their-limit.html' title='Everyone has their limit.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-9072580473920455469</id><published>2009-04-13T12:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T12:46:46.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One for the ladies.</title><content type='html'>Okay, ladies. I gotta have a little female reality check here. Or maybe it's just "remind me that all women - or most - are like this so I don't feel like such an idiot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The general question is this: is anyone else out there plagued with occasional bouts of...let's call it "heightened emotional response" that may even at the time seem a bit out of proportion, but it's just how you feel at the moment and you can't really NOT feel that way, but soon after you begin "emoting" you're thinking, "Oh boy - this reaction/conversation was a mistake, and I wish I could go back and erase it, but I'm in it now, and how do I wrap it up and end up in a completely different place from where I am right now?" Only you can't. And then the next day, you wake up, and you think about how the whole thing started, and you think, "Why did that set me off so much?" And then you take a Midol for your cramps...and it hits you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And does anyone else feel stupid and embarrassed when you realize that your overreaction to something that may have normally caused you a legitimate pang, but wouldn't have led to some giant reaction, is *hormonal* - turning you into a stereotype? And for the millionth time, you have to admit to someone (probably the male you live with) that not only are you sheepish about being a drama queen the day before, but now you have to admit that it's that damn thing that all men like to blame all women's complaints on anyway? Aaaaargh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not alone in this, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate that I'm always so slow to realize what is wrong with me. And I hate feeling like a stereotype. And I hate that there's usually a grain of legitimacy to what set me off, but it gets blown out of proportion by my hormonalized reaction, so that it's hard to return to the subject "in the light of day" and address with it the true perspective it would've gotten on any other day of the month, especially if it's something important. And that means that either the subject is dismissed completely - like there wasn't anything legitimate in it at all, it was all just hormonal irrationality - or the subject itself now has the cast of my overreaction, so it's a little tainted. Even though J might be willing to listen with understanding, the subject is now touchy and deep down he wonders if I really did mean/feel all the stuff I said, despite what I'm saying later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a fictional example: J is watching TV and someone eats an olive on-screen and he says in passing, "I love olives. But you hate them, don't you?" There's a slight disappointment that I don't make anything with olives, and instead of saying, "You can keep some in the fridge if you want," I say, "If you wanted me to buy olives last time we were at the store, why didn't you just say so? You don't have to act like I'm keeping you from something you love! You always act like I'm holding you back from what you really want!!" And things go from there, with lots of "always" and "never" being tossed around, and half-way in, I'm realizing, "I really don't feel that way, and no, I'm not making anything with olives, because then I couldn't eat it, but this is SO not the big deal I've just made it into, and how the frig do I get out of this?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And from then on, he's afraid to mention olives, and I don't know how to reassure that I really don't care about it that much - it was just the hormones making it huge. No, I don't like olives. That's true. And I don't want to have to put them in stuff I'm going to eat, too, because it would ruin the taste for me. But olives are now, suddenly, a sore point, when they so shouldn't be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, that's not exactly a fair representation, because the subject is probably something more legitimate than olives, but the scenario is the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this sound familiar to anyone? Reassure me, ladies, that others of you suffer this same affliction and you know what I'm talking about. It's not that I think there's some solution, but I can feel a little less sheepish if I know I'm part of a community on this!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-9072580473920455469?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/9072580473920455469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=9072580473920455469&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/9072580473920455469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/9072580473920455469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-for-ladies.html' title='One for the ladies.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4033335842845570632</id><published>2009-04-09T15:46:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T16:08:17.239-05:00</updated><title type='text'>American Idol, not America's Next Top Broadway Performer</title><content type='html'>I don't know how many of my readers watch American Idol, but J got me back into it a couple of seasons ago, and we've been pretty religious about watching the last two seasons. It's fun to have contestants to root for and those you hope will be eliminated each week (you know it's true), but the downside is when the person you think should win - hands down - is not the person the media campaigns for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This season, that's my situation. I love Danny Gokey. J is right there with me, too - we both think he should be the winner, and it shouldn't even be in question. Of all the singers on there this season, we feel like he's the one who is most marketable as radio-play singer. If a record company gave him a contract today, I really believe he could have a career. He might not be as huge as Carrie Underwood or Kelly Clarkson, because he's not country or straight pop - he's got more of an R&amp;B kinda thing goin on. But he's solid, and he's really personable, and he really behaves like a pro, and he's got a great story and a good look. That guy should be doing this for a living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sd5i8TuqVBI/AAAAAAAAAMY/4H_L3Lb_QdY/s1600-h/Danny-Gokey%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sd5i8TuqVBI/AAAAAAAAAMY/4H_L3Lb_QdY/s320/Danny-Gokey%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322800597826163730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the media wants Adam. Adam Lambert. Blech. Adam is a talented singer and he's got stage presence and he'd also be a pro. But what Adam should be doing is STAGE work. Adam should be on Broadway - he should be in Rent or Mama Mia or something - not on a concert tour. He's not a rocker. He's not even a pop star. His over-processed look does nothing for me - he's like Johnny Rzeznik if Muzak Goth were doing him. And the high notes he hits are like a vocal trick he's learned rather than a full tenor-type sound. And every performance is like Andrew Lloyd Weber put it together. I can't stand him. And it's not because he's bad - if this were a competition for a lead in a Broadway musical, I'd vote for him all the way and cheer. But it's not. It's for a contract as a solo recording artist in a mainstream genre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And much as the media and the AI judges want us to crown Adam the untouchable king of this year's competition, it just doesn't work for me. I wouldn't buy an album by the guy. I wouldn't go to a concert of his. But I might go to a show if he were in a leading role - after all, in THAT scenario he's actually SUPPOSED to be in costume!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sd5jZ3iG5zI/AAAAAAAAAMg/dnUzvONPycU/s1600-h/Adam+Lambert.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sd5jZ3iG5zI/AAAAAAAAAMg/dnUzvONPycU/s320/Adam+Lambert.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322801105653393202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny, on the other hand - that guy I can get behind. I just hope that the media isn't able to influence the real vote. They've backed the wrong horse before. If it had been up to the media, it would've been David Archuleta instead of David Cook we saw on a guest appearance the other day. Hopefully, we'll dodge the bullet again this season. Go Danny!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4033335842845570632?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4033335842845570632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4033335842845570632&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4033335842845570632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4033335842845570632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/04/american-idol-not-americas-next-top.html' title='American Idol, not America&apos;s Next Top Broadway Performer'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/Sd5i8TuqVBI/AAAAAAAAAMY/4H_L3Lb_QdY/s72-c/Danny-Gokey%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3261194615274045396</id><published>2009-04-01T15:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T15:56:42.924-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Honking for hostility</title><content type='html'>Ya know what gives me a heart attack when I'm driving - even more than the siren I can hear "somewhere" but can't find, and therefore, am unsure if I'm in the path of some speeding emergency vehicle and should move, or if I should stay where I am, because moving would actually put me in the way? Random honking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear, car horns should be rigged where if you're using the horn and it's not actually an emergency, it shocks you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On at least two occasions recently, I've either been driving or sitting at a light, when someone started jamming on their horn. Not one long, continuous beep, or the quick little beep people do when you've looked away and the light has changed and they're telling you to go. No, these have been repeated honks that indicated some kind of urgency. Only when I look around, I can't determine what's so urgent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there an out-of-control bus bearing down on us, and the driver can't slow down or a bomb will explode the bus and we'd all better hurry up and pull to the side of the road? Has an old lady fallen in the road in front of my car, and I can't see her, and I'm about to drive right over her unless I heed your alert to stop? Is my car on fire?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm honestly not sure what it was about. Possibly someone was just saying hello to someone else, in which case, I should be within my legal rights to punch you in the face for scaring me and anyone else who had to listen to your alarming honking and get distracted from what they should've been doing - aka, driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it was someone mad at some other driver for not moving quickly enough after a light turned or trying to change lanes (the nerve!), then the honker needs to switch to decaf. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for the greater good, I'll just simply request to everyone out there to please be judicious about how you use your car horn. It's not a toy, people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3261194615274045396?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3261194615274045396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3261194615274045396&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3261194615274045396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3261194615274045396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/04/honking-for-hostility.html' title='Honking for hostility'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6574959344446256496</id><published>2009-03-26T09:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T10:26:32.129-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The College Dream</title><content type='html'>Things are definitely moving forward with the house situation, but things keep popping up to move the finish line back a little. We get in the new house and the garbage disposal goes out. J sets up the office, and my power cord for my laptop goes out AGAIN (this is my third cord in 3 months - gonna have to take the laptop into the Apple Store and find out if it's the laptop and not the cords). We get our new closet and all the clothes in only to discover it would've been set up better with a couple of sections reversed - meaning trip #4 for the closet people to our humble new abode. One thing after another, most of which means more money out the door and a checklist that I can't seem to make headway on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess it's getting to me, because last night I had "The College Dream." Anyone who has been to college has had the college dream. I promise. Just ask a college graduate you know. It usually occurs when you're in a stressful period where you've got a lot going on and you're afraid something has fallen through the cracks or you've dropped the ball in some way and it's all about to catch up with you. Here's how it goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're still in college. It's the end of the semester, and finals are starting this week or next. You realize that there's a class you forgot about and stopped going to at the beginning of the semster. You never dropped this class - you just forgot about it and stopped going. So, you have no idea what's happened all semester or how much the final is worth and if you have any hope of saving your ass (meaning your grade) with the final. But it's your only hope, because otherwise, you for sure will be getting an F, and that will blow your entire grade point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a word, you're screwed. But you *have* to TRY and save yourself. So, you show up for the last class or last couple of classes (in my dream last night, I'd been MIA for the first 2/3 of the semester, and had remembered to start going for about the last 1/3 of the class, but I wasn't sure if that would be enough to get me through the final) and see if you think you might get *something* useful out of those last couple of classes - maybe a prep sheet for the final to help you figure out what to study when you cram for the final. Also, you don't actually know when or where the final is, so you're hoping that might get mentioned. Otherwise, you're going to have to find a schedule somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the point where I always wake up - in a panic about what I need to study, unsure I can actually pull it off, and not even sure when or where to go, and just SICK that I'm about to ruin my GPA and it's all my own fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's The College Dream. My mom used to wake up in the middle of the night, practically yelling, "Oh my God, I have a test tomorrow, and I haven't studied!" My dad would have to tell her, "You've already graduated, honey." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah college. It really does stick with you forever, doesn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6574959344446256496?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6574959344446256496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6574959344446256496&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6574959344446256496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6574959344446256496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/03/college-dream.html' title='The College Dream'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-1320481324306104542</id><published>2009-03-23T08:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T09:04:19.478-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh...I'M the moron!</title><content type='html'>Well, it's not the organizers of the Capitol 10k that are morons - it's me. They didn't schedule it during SXSW - they scheduled it for THIS Sunday - the 22nd! So, I take back my criticism and direct it at myself for not reading the promo more closely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10K, people, you got it goin' on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me, I need to learn to read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-1320481324306104542?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/1320481324306104542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=1320481324306104542&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/1320481324306104542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/1320481324306104542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/03/ohim-moron.html' title='Oh...I&apos;M the moron!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4900881238185950694</id><published>2009-03-20T13:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T13:36:22.852-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Roundup time</title><content type='html'>Boy. So much to talk about and yet I just don't feel like posting. Maybe this is a good day for a Roundup. Let's hit the highlights:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. March Madness. I do enjoy the NCAA Tourney. I enjoy filling out a bracket and then seeing it through - seeing how my picks fare and how I finish in Clint's Bracket Racket. It's especially fun when my teams are winning. Yesterday, I had 14 of 16 picks. The only frustration with the two I lost was that one was a game I simply missed picking - I just didn't see the blank. And the team I would've picked was the team that one, so I *should* have had 15 of 16. And I could *almost* make a case for 16 of 16, since I came SO close to picking the 16th winner as an upset (as it ended up being), but I chickened out and didn't. Still, 14 of 16 is pretty darn admirable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. My hair. I colored my hair last night - a kick-ass, bold dye job that bleached the front blonde, while leaving the rest light brown with blonde highlights. It rocks!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Moving Day. The official move-in day for me and J into the new house is Sunday! We've been moving stuff in as we could so it wouldn't be massive job on the last day. But Sunday will be the big stuff - bed, dressers, clothes, etc. That'll be our first night in the new place, and we're SO excited to officially be in there! It's a little stressful that each time I think I know where everything will go, I spot a whole new stash of stuff that has to be accounted for. But we'll figure it out. It's gonna be great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. SXSW. It's madness around here, and not the March kind. The film portion of SXSW started last week, and there were lots of stars around and coverage on the news, etc., but as a local just going to work and living your life, you don't REALLY notice it until the music week begins. Then the joint is just overrun with uber-hip young-uns with calculated looks of unconcern. They're everywhere! I'd complain about the increased traffic and people everywhere, except that I'm in a band now and we have a showcase tomorrow, so I want some of those people to come to our show. So...WELCOME TO OUR FAIR CITY! (And after tomorrow, go home.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Morons. Who is the idiot who scheduled the Austin American-Statesman Capitol 10,000 run, which happens to go through downtown, where the vast majority of Austin's SXSW venues are, on the Sunday during South-by? I'm just curious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Natasha Richardson. Man, that's sad. I can't even begin to imagine what Liam Neeson and their two boys are going through right now. Just tragic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. AIG bonuses. I really don't want to hear about AIG's "contracts." I'm a free-market kinda gal. I don't like the government all up in all of this. So, I'm sure I've got some strange bedfellows on this one. But seriously. If the company had failed, as it should have from making atrociously bad, greedy business decisions, those "contracts" wouldn't have been worth the paper they were printed on. There wouldn't have been any money to give, and the recipients wouldn't have gotten a dime. There was nothing in their contracts that said if the company went under, the taxpayers would pay them their bonuses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the company essentially DID go under - it's been bought out - by the government. Those contractors have a new boss - YOU AND ME. And I don't know about you, but I don't give bonuses to people who run a company into the ground. That money WE used to buy the company shouldn't be used to honor contracts with a company that no longer exists - and AIG no longer exists. It's now a quasi-governmental agency. So, while I hate that the government is in the buyout business and is bailing out assholes who make bad business decisions, whether giving or taking bad mortgages, if we ARE going to give MY money to companies to keep them afloat, the trade-off for that is that a new sheriff comes to town to run those companies, and all bets are off concerning existing contracts, business practices, etc. Essentially, it's as if the company went bankrupt and got bought out, and just like when that happens in the private sector, the new owner cleans house and does things HIS way. Not that the friggin' government has any idea how to run a business (or haven't you noticed the out of control budget deficit?)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Last thing - American Idol. How much do I love Danny Gokey? I literally got chills TWICE during his performance this week. And Simon just can't insult him - every time he tries, Danny just turns it to his advantage, without ever coming off as a jerk. I think they should just give him the title now and let the rest of the contestants duke it out for second place. He is the bomb.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4900881238185950694?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4900881238185950694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4900881238185950694&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4900881238185950694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4900881238185950694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/03/roundup-time.html' title='Roundup time'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6612492342110222681</id><published>2009-03-17T13:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T14:09:30.634-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazingly behind</title><content type='html'>I'm so dropping the ball this season with The Amazing Race. I commented on the first two episodes, then I think I missed the third one, and now I've watched the fourth and fifth episodes, but haven't commented. How about we decide I'm just hopelessly behind and much to busy with house stuff to stay on top of it this time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J noticed last week that they're holding tryouts for the next season in Austin this Thursday. I got all excited and asked him if he thought we should try out. He looked at me like I'd lost my mind and said calmly that he didn't think this was quite the right time for me to be trying to drop out of my life and take on a stressful, globe-trotting competition. I suppose that he might be on to something - what with two band gigs in the next week, and a new house we haven't even finished yet or moved into, and my old house needing to be rented out, and my bank account needing to be refreshed from closing costs, etc., and my employer not being the type that would approve me for a month of vacation time, even if I had that much accrued, or hold my job for me if I tried to take a leave of absence, just in case we didn't win. I suppose things could be a BIT more settled before we just took off for a month on a race around the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll relent - we won't try out on Thursday. But there's always next year. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6612492342110222681?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6612492342110222681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6612492342110222681&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6612492342110222681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6612492342110222681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/03/amazingly-behind.html' title='Amazingly behind'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-2530158192794738848</id><published>2009-03-16T08:30:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T08:51:16.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving Day - coming soon!</title><content type='html'>I swear I hardly have time to post these days. I knew this would happen as soon as we signed the papers on the new house. I must be clairvoyant! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been working hard to get everything done that we wanted to before moving in. The house was remodeled, but there were a few things we wanted to change - like repainting the entire interior, changing the carpet in the bedroom, tearing out the closet in the bedroom and having California Closets design us a new, more efficient, closet system - little stuff! ;) But we're almost there. We're both so ready to move in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that has been hardest about it all hasn't been the actual labor. It's been all the little roadblocks that get thrown up. For instance, we have a gas valve that's inside the house that needs to be capped before we have the gas turned on. No problem. I call the gas company last week, tell the lady I need to have the valve capped and get our service turned on. After going through the whole rigamarole to set up my account and set an appointment to have our service turned on, I ask her to verify that this appt will be for both the capping and turning on service. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We don't do that - you'll have to get a licensed plumber to do that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A plumber? I think you're misunderstanding me. I have a valve to a GAS line. The GAS line won't be used anymore, so we need you to cap it before you turn the gas on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We don't do that - you'll have to get a licensed plumber to do that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The GAS company doesn't cap GAS lines?? I have to have a PLUMBER do that?? That doesn't sound right. A plumber wouldn't lay my gas lines. Why would he be reponsible for capping it? If he screws up a water line, my floor gets wet. But if he screws up a gas line, my house explodes. You really don't cap gas lines? You - the GAS company??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They don't. You have to hire a plumber. At the rates that plumbers charge. Who the hell knew that? So, I had to cancel the appointment to turn on the gas, and I've been asking around ever since for names of plumbers that someone could recommend so we can get the line capped and THEN turn on our gas. Shockingly (that would be sarcasm), no one has provided me with the name of a plumber they trust - just lots of horror stories about plumbers who didn't show up, only did half the job, tried to screw people into replacing the entire plumbing system when all they needed was a small leak repair. I think that's why plumbers charge so much. They know that people will never use them twice, so they get all they can on their one shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's just one example of a task that seemed simple but involved more than we thought it did, or should have, and ended up being more work and taking longer than we ever imagined. Thank God we didn't get the first house we tried to buy, which would have required an entire remodel. I think it would've killed us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-2530158192794738848?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2530158192794738848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=2530158192794738848&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2530158192794738848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2530158192794738848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/03/moving-day-coming-soon.html' title='Moving Day - coming soon!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8860313779569115823</id><published>2009-03-09T10:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T11:17:36.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tips for Living Comfortably</title><content type='html'>From the folks who brought you &lt;i&gt;How to Pretend You're Listening&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;Things That Are More Fun Than Getting a Pelvic Exam&lt;/i&gt; (in three volumes), a new and exciting tome will soon be on the shelves to help you live a better life! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brilliant new work of non-fiction is currently in the early stages of production. In fact, this is the first entry. It occurred to me this weekend. But I'm confident that I will soon have a great many &lt;i&gt;Tips for Living Comfortably&lt;/i&gt;. So stayed tuned to this blog for the advance publication of these fantastic, hidden suggestions and for the announcement when this must-have book goes on sale at a bookstore near you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tip #1: Make sure the water in the Neti Pot is WARM - not HOT. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would even go so far as to use the adjective LUKEWARM. Should you forget this tip, you will learn a new definition for "sinus pain." The melodramatic use of the phrase in commercials for the purpose of selling you decongestant is a joke of fantastical dimension compared to what you feel when you sear the entire length of your sinus passage from within with water that "seemed okay" when you stuck your finger under the tap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boiling your face from behind will make you want to smash your Neti Pot into a thousand tiny plastic pieces. But that won't help. So just trust your humble author and be very careful with the temperature of the water in your Neti Pot. I promise that doing so will lead to living more comfortably.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8860313779569115823?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8860313779569115823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8860313779569115823&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8860313779569115823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8860313779569115823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/03/tips-for-living-comfortably.html' title='Tips for Living Comfortably'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-347760652086022446</id><published>2009-03-04T13:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T14:13:31.728-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Catchin up</title><content type='html'>I managed to get caught up on the first two legs of Amazing Race! I took only sparse notes since I'm behind and covering two episodes in one post, but here are my thoughts on the first two legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leg 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Two words: midget stuntmen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Preston is an ass. I was happy when his team was the first to be ousted. See ya, jerk face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The highest bungee jump in the world. Undoubtedly J would've been doing this for our team. And he would've loved every second of it, whereas I would be on the verge of throwing up just standing on the observation deck and seeing that it existed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Cheese hauling. I like to think, as I watch that, "I could do that." But who am I kidding? Pretty much every team fell, had their equipment break, chased a giant cheese wheel down the hill or looked like they were climbing Everest as they climbed back up the hill. I'm suprisingly strong for my size, but I'm guessing the editors would have had their work cut out for them bleeping out all my expletives on this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Deaf Luke and Mom Margie. Boy, do I like these two! I love that they won the first leg, and as of right now, they're the team I want to win the whole thing. Love 'em!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Country Steve and Linda. The most significant thing about this couple for me is that Linda looks just like J's mom! Seriously! J's mom doesn't have an accent and Steve is nothing like J's dad, but everytime I see them, I think, "Why is J's mom talking like that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Wow, is Switzerland beautful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I like that the winners and losers aren't so decided by cabs this season. It's more about the choices you make (like which train you take) than the dumb luck of which cabbie you get. I hope that continues throughout the season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leg 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I wanna drive the autobahn in a Mercedes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The gondola was beautiful, but I'm pretty sure I'd be freaked out that the car was going to be blown off the track by the wind or the cables were going to snap. I used to ride the Gondola at Astroworld with no fear. What happened to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Paragliding. Again, this would probably be a J thing. I might be a little better with this than the bungee jump, since the glider would slow your slamming descent to the ground to the point that you might just break an ankle rather than dying on impact. But J would actually enjoy it, so I'd let him do it...and by "let" I mean "beg."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Pie vs. Segway. I'd be all about the pie. It's messy, but it's easy, you're less likely to fall down, and you can get a little snack in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for now! I'll do my more traditional recaps from here on out. Who are you rooting for or against??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-347760652086022446?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/347760652086022446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=347760652086022446&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/347760652086022446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/347760652086022446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/03/catchin-up.html' title='Catchin up'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5355500559393830897</id><published>2009-03-03T14:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T14:07:04.816-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing...What?...Wait a minute - when did that happen?</title><content type='html'>So, I got home on Sunday evening after working on the new house and going to book club, and I plop down on the couch and turn on the TV, and there, with no advance warning whatoever, was The Amazing Race - clearly several episodes into a new season!! WHAT??? When did that happen, and why didn't I know about it???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea how I could have missed the start of the current season, but my friend Ann says it's about 3 weeks in, so now I have to go to CBS.com and catch up online. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize unreservedly to all my faithful readers who expect recaps and snarky comments on the contestants each season! I swear I'll get caught up and comment anon!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-5355500559393830897?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5355500559393830897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5355500559393830897&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5355500559393830897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5355500559393830897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/03/amazingwhatwait-minute-when-did-that.html' title='Amazing...What?...Wait a minute - when did that happen?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-2292194280294524213</id><published>2009-02-25T15:43:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T15:56:03.603-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We did it!!</title><content type='html'>Well, it's been a real struggle, but as of today, J and I now have a new house in the city! This is our little gem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SaW7xrWRHjI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/gmEEjnDOLQQ/s1600-h/new+house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SaW7xrWRHjI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/gmEEjnDOLQQ/s320/new+house.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306854198050102834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have my old house and will be looking into renting it out, what with the current house market being total crapola. And there are a few things we want to do to the new house before moving in, but the papers were signed today and we are officially in possession of the keys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have kept very mum about all this because we've had some very bad luck in our quest to get back into the city (my current house is great, but it's pretty much near nothing except the airport, and I don't fly much anymore, so it just wasn't fitting our lifestyle very well), and I just didn't want to have to go through explanations if this one didn't work out. We had one deal fall through just two days before closing - title issues. Then we had another deal we tried to work, but the other Realtor was clearly shopping our offer around to investors - I won't say who it was or how we know to avoid being called out for slander or something, but let's just say it was obvious to everyone on our side what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then on this deal, it was one thing after another. Time and again we faced obstacles that seemed sure to kill the deal. I finally got to the point last week where I just told God I was turning it over to him. If this wasn't the house for us, he could let the deal die, and I'd trust it was for the best and we'd just stay where we are. Either this was going to work and we'd move forward with our new place, or we'd accept that God wanted us right where we are, and we'd stop looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, apparently God wants me to live 3 minutes from my work in a spiffy little corner house with a nice neighbor, because the deal went through! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I have to go out of town tomorrow on business, so I won't really be able to get in and do anything until the weekend, but J is going to get started on a few things while I'm gone. Now, I just have to call my mom and tell her. I should probably ask to speak to my dad first so he can be on stand-by to resucitate her. This will be a bit of a suprise. Hey, I told you I'd kept it all very mum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-2292194280294524213?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2292194280294524213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=2292194280294524213&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2292194280294524213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2292194280294524213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/we-did-it.html' title='We did it!!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SaW7xrWRHjI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/gmEEjnDOLQQ/s72-c/new+house.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-2262976398714236022</id><published>2009-02-19T09:26:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T16:17:12.899-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mickey Rourke</title><content type='html'>I should start this post by saying that I like stories where people who have gotten off track eventually get it together and make good again. I do. I'm all about redemption and second chances and people learning from their mistakes, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as much as everyone wants me to, I just can't get on board the Mickey Rourke train. I just can't. Hollywood is absolutely falling all over itself with love with Mickey Rourke and his "comeback" in The Wrestler. But I'm just not feelin' it. And I can't figure out why they're all SO invested in him actually coming back. Maybe they're all thinking that the Mickey of 9 1/2 Weeks is still in there somewhere. Here is Mickey back in those days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SZ187HU8YnI/AAAAAAAAAMA/WD6gB2Il0R8/s1600-h/young+mickey.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SZ187HU8YnI/AAAAAAAAAMA/WD6gB2Il0R8/s320/young+mickey.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304533291133330034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a bad looking fella. I don't care for the cigarette, and that movie was kind of smarmy, and every character he seemed to play afterward was smarmy, meaning that for me, Mickey was just kind of a smarmy guy. So, I was never into him. And maybe that's why I don't care now whether he makes it "back" again or not. But even if I'd liked him back then, I'm pretty sure I'd have no illusions that the old "magic" could possibly be retrieved. I mean seriously, people. Look at this guy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SZ19oQ4pDLI/AAAAAAAAAMI/zhl2X34Yhr0/s1600-h/old+mickey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SZ19oQ4pDLI/AAAAAAAAAMI/zhl2X34Yhr0/s320/old+mickey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304534066793090226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is what we in the biz (okay, I'm not really in a "biz" but just stay with me) call a "train wreck." Aside from his sleeziness on film, his personal life has been no better - drugs, alcohol, violence, incarceration. What's the appeal, people? I just don't get it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate to be the bearer of bad predictions, but my best guess is that very soon, he'll be right back off the wagon and the footage we'll be seeing of him won't be of him accepting awards. It'll be of him rambling incoherently, looking unwashed (though I'm not sure how we'll really tell the difference on that one). I predict new and exciting mug shots to add to the ones we already have. Maybe when he ODs, we can have a retrospective, "Through the Years: Mickey's Mugshots." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I'm being insensitive. I should be hoping the guy stays sober and can salvage his life. And I'm not "hoping" otherwise - if he does that, then more power to him. Prove me wrong, Mick! But I think he'd be better off praying for reincarnation and a chance to do things completely differently next time - preferably not on camera.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-2262976398714236022?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2262976398714236022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=2262976398714236022&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2262976398714236022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2262976398714236022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/mickey-rourke.html' title='Mickey Rourke'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SZ187HU8YnI/AAAAAAAAAMA/WD6gB2Il0R8/s72-c/young+mickey.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8963757775066087196</id><published>2009-02-17T10:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T11:29:27.011-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We're gettin pelted with meteors!</title><content type='html'>You see the most interesting things in the Texas sky. Clouds that look like John Wayne (or Lassie depending on your perspective). Black helicopters and fighter jets from one of our many military bases. The space station gliding across the night sky like a super bright star with someplace to go. Ducks. But yesterday, truly one of the most interesting things you could possibly see appeared in our sky: &lt;a href="http://www.news8austin.com/content/top_stories/default.asp?ArID=232247" target="blank"&gt;a meteor&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was seen all the way from Dallas to Austin. The link above has video of the meteor streaking across the sky, which is why I used it. It's not necessarily the best "news" account of the event. But hey - we all like video of a thing like that, right? Anyway, Austin had a marathon going on that morning (of course - if it's a Sunday in Austin, there's a run of some kind going on), and one of the news photographers...oh, wait, I think I'm supposed to call them photojournalists...one of the &lt;strong&gt;photojournalists &lt;/strong&gt;caught it on film. Very cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think several things must be addressed with a sighting like this, however. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Someone needs to let Shirley MacLaine know that this was not an alien landing, and there is no government coverup. She's welcome to come take a look around if she'd like, but honestly, Shirley, isn't a meteor cool enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. It's not George Bush's fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. It has nothing to do with global warming (which in no way indicates that I don't believe in global warming - I do - I just don't believe every single natural event that occurs now is a direct result of it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. It's not a warning from God (which in no way indicates that I don't believe in God - I do - I just don't believe he goes around hurling meteors at us to keep us in line).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I think this is just one more reason not to jog. That thing takes a slightly different course? All of the people in that footage - dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8963757775066087196?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8963757775066087196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8963757775066087196&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8963757775066087196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8963757775066087196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/were-gettin-pelted-with-meteors.html' title='We&apos;re gettin pelted with meteors!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4167336846084259448</id><published>2009-02-11T15:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T16:10:42.833-06:00</updated><title type='text'>India, that ain't holy water</title><content type='html'>So, the Hindu nationalist movement in India is marketing &lt;a href="http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/food_and_drink/article5707554.ece" target="blank"&gt;a new soft drink&lt;/a&gt;...made from cow pee. Yes. Urine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you didn't know it already, Hindus consider the cow sacred, so I guess that means anything that issues from the cow is equally sacred. Well, that's all well and good, but I'm a Christian, and I consider Jesus sacred, and I wouldn't drink his pee - and he wouldn't ask me to. Jesus is cool like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a science teacher in 7th Grade who (as all science teachers do) tried to convince us about the purity of urine. She even went so far as to tell us she would drink it. After I got my gag reflux under control, I waited for her to prove it. She didn't. And outside of a cable survivalist show, I don't think anyone else ever has either. Because it's foul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That should be obvious. I mean, have you noticed that your body *expels* urine? It doesn't want it. It's not designed as something for you to TAKE IN. It's something you get rid of. See how that works? No drinky the pee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, as a lover of Coca-Cola, I would like to petition that this vile bastardization of all that is delicious, sugary and carbonated not even be allowed to be called a soft drink. Tell them they have to call it a "piss beverage," or, you know, "disgusting." And they should have to come up with packaging that very clearly indicates what's inside. Because if I'm a tourist, visiting the Taj Majal and shopping for saris, and I get parched because it's freakin' India, and I accidentally drink Holy Cow! (that's what I'd call it if I were the marketing director), well, someone's seen their last Indian sunrise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4167336846084259448?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4167336846084259448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4167336846084259448&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4167336846084259448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4167336846084259448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/india-that-aint-holy-water.html' title='India, that ain&apos;t holy water'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6460191497805065269</id><published>2009-02-10T09:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T10:11:31.362-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ch-ch-ch-changes</title><content type='html'>So, I decided to upgrade the ole blog a little! I have done very little tinkering since I first started the blog, and it was time to upgrade. There were "widgets" and "fonts" and "colors" that I could play with to freshen things up a bit and bring myself into The Now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think? And those of you who have blogs, what features and widgets do you use that you especially like? I'm open to fine-tuning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very much in a mood these days to fine tune, overhaul and just generally upgrade! I'm coming up on a birthday soon, and it's a milestone birthday (the big 4-0). The last time I had a milestone birthday (30), I was &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; in a good place in and was not happy about my birthday. I wasn't happy about the state of my life - personally or professionally, and I was in no mood to celebrate the end of my 20s with no more to show for it than I felt like had. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back, I had made progress and started things moving in the right direction, but at the time, I couldn't really see that and had no way of knowing how everything would take off in my 30s. Nearing the end of my 30s now, I see that it's been a decade of important successes. I've achieved professionally and financially, climbing the ladder in my chosen field and writing a novel that I'm now working to get published. And most importantly, I've found success personally. I have a man I love by my side, and that's worth &lt;strong&gt;everything&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'd like my 40s to be even more. I'd like my relationship to grow and prosper - to become stronger than ever and reach new heights for both of us. That's the most important thing. But I'd also like to find professional success in a different way than I pursued it in my 30s. I'd like to find more freedom and to be able to turn my passions and my gifts and my skills into the financial success that will sustain me and feed the life I'm building with J. I'd like to be free of the artificial constraints that have always been such a part of my working life and find a way to work in a more goal-oriented, rather than clock-oriented, environment. I want to work and be productive and creative and to be proud of what I do, but be able to do it more on my terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've wanted that for a long time, and have at times had a taste of that kind of work life, but haven't found it yet. I believe that in the coming decade, I will be able to finally achieve it, and it will work in symbiosis with my relationship to create exactly the life I've wanted for so long. I have a really good life now, but I think it can be even better, and I think by the time I celebrate my next milestone, I will look back at my 40s and see a time of great satisfaction and achievement in the most important ways - I think this will be a decade of great happiness for me, and I look forward to it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J, I'm so glad you're my man. God, I'm so glad you take care of me. And friends, I'm so grateful for you every day! I've still got a few more weeks before I have to check a new box for "age range" on surveys, but I'm so ready to get started on this new era in my life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6460191497805065269?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6460191497805065269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6460191497805065269&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6460191497805065269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6460191497805065269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/ch-ch-ch-changes.html' title='Ch-ch-ch-changes'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-7042286132973450018</id><published>2009-02-04T09:43:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T10:24:19.356-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The lady (half) smiles.</title><content type='html'>Today is shaping up to be a little less hectic for me than yesterday, so I thought I'd catch up on the news, celebrity gossip, etc. In doing so, I came across this picture of Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYm37rXv-nI/AAAAAAAAALU/1SCQFkuHcG8/s1600-h/katy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 169px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYm37rXv-nI/AAAAAAAAALU/1SCQFkuHcG8/s320/katy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298968672460601970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The picture is being used to bash Katie for her "bony breastplate." Personally, I think she looks fine - thin, but not overly so, in my opinion. I don't think her breastplate looks bony. In fact, she seems to have nice skin. No, what caught my eye wasn't her weight, but her face, or more specifically her smile. It seemed sad to me. I looked closely to see what about it looked sad, and I'm probably already way too drawn into that new show "Lie to Me" (love it!), but I could quickly see some things to me that said, "This lady is not happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one thing, the smile doesn't extend to her eyes. A real smile can be seen in the eyes - they crinkle. But that in itself doesn't necessarily mean anything. Celebrities have to pose constantly, so most of their photographed smiles aren't real, and they have an interest in perfecting a "photo smile" that doesn't crinkle the eyes anyway - they would want their faces to remain as wrinkle-free as possible for as long as possible. Tom's smile doesn't really show the crinkling either, but he looks perfectly happy. So that ain't it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more salient point to me is that it's lopsided. The right side of her mouth is curved up into a smile, but the left isn't. It made the smile seem forced and disingenuine to me. So I did a little research to see what that means, and it turns out, it means quite a lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to language expert Patti Wood, MA, CSP: "Psychologists have studied the phenomenon of the split face for many years and have accumulated a reservoir of studies that conclusively indicate that the expression of the left side of an individual's face is far more revealing concerning their emotional state than is their whole face."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a person is unable to achieve symmetry in their expression, physical injury to facial nerves and such notwithstanding, Wood says that it's indicative of a disconnect between the left and right sides of the brain. And in these cases, it's the left side that reveals what the person is really feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that makes me feel a bit sad for Mrs. Cruise. Look at the left side of her face - the side closest to Tom. Katie ain't happy. And I have a feeling that the older and more mature she gets, the more she comes into her own as a woman and as a person, the deeper that discontent will grow. Tom never wanted a partner or an equal. He wanted someone he could mold. Katie was young and starstruck, and she signed on. But now that she's becoming an actual grownup, that's not going to be so appealing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom doesn't seem the flexible type to me, and I predict that this marriage, like his others, will fail when Katie's finally had enough. I realize I'm not exactly going out on a limb by myself with that prediction, and I'm no Sylvia Browne, but I'm pretty good at reading people and figuring out how things are likely to play out, and I'm puttin' it out there. So, bookmark this page so that when TomKat is over, you can say, "Suzanne predicted that! Here, I have proof."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-7042286132973450018?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7042286132973450018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=7042286132973450018&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7042286132973450018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7042286132973450018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/lady-half-smiles.html' title='The lady (half) smiles.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYm37rXv-nI/AAAAAAAAALU/1SCQFkuHcG8/s72-c/katy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8840472251078743551</id><published>2009-02-02T10:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T10:54:21.794-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Bowl 2009</title><content type='html'>Any regular reader to my blog knows that I'm not too interested in the NFL, but I do enjoy a Super Bowl party as much as the next gal. J and I had a good time at Tom's last night, watching an exciting game (the ending was anyway) and enjoying some good company and food. Bruce Springsteen gave an awesome half-time show, too! I was a little disappointed in the commercials, though. None of them really grabbed me, except this gem, which is by far my favorite of the night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ACvtzOlrOsM&amp;hl=en&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/ACvtzOlrOsM&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;I'll admit that I didn't see every single commercial all night, so I may have missed some good ones. The Go Daddy commercials were lame, though I did get a big kick out of the 1-second Miller High Life commercials. Very clever! What was your favorite?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8840472251078743551?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8840472251078743551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8840472251078743551&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8840472251078743551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8840472251078743551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/02/super-bowl-2009.html' title='Super Bowl 2009'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8367151915932733983</id><published>2009-01-30T13:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T13:55:05.181-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Shouldn't people leave?</title><content type='html'>Did you know that an Alaskan volcano near Anchorage is on the &lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090130/ap_on_re_us/alaska_volcano" target="blank"&gt;verge of erupting &lt;/a&gt;- not "on the verge" in the geological sense, like sometime in the next 1,000 years, but as in "any day now"? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Alaskans (Anchoragians? Anchoragilites? Anchoraginates?) aren't even clearing out - they're just hitting the hardware stores for dust masks and goggles, like they're about to start a carpentry project! Man, those people are tough. I'll bet Sarah Palin is personally hiking up the side of Mount Redoubt right now to go take a look. "Gotta check it out, you know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be an interesting story to follow over the coming days. I remember Mount St. Helens erupting when I was a kid. It made quite an impression on me, since I didn't even realize at that age that we had "real" volcanoes here in the U.S. - ones that erupted and everything. I might've known Hawaii had them, but theirs aren't really the "duck and cover" kind of eruptions that disaster movies are made of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's possible that I'm responsible for this eruption since I recently listened to the book on tape of the novel "&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Pompeii-Novel-Robert-Harris/dp/0679428895" target="blank"&gt;Pompeii&lt;/a&gt;." I even passed it on to J, further adding to the volcano ju-ju in the air. So, if this is our fault, I apologize. We were just trying to be literary. It still counts as literary is you listen on CD instead of reading it yourself, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8367151915932733983?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8367151915932733983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8367151915932733983&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8367151915932733983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8367151915932733983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/shouldnt-people-leave.html' title='Shouldn&apos;t people leave?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-617997121048966501</id><published>2009-01-29T13:20:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T13:23:06.920-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Texas A&amp;M Football Coach Adolph Hitler</title><content type='html'>I might be tempted to save this until next football season, but it mentions Graham Harrell, and he won't be back next year, so I gotta post it now, while it's fresh (or at least not past its expiration date) and relevant:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nmEAo-nzBgY&amp;hl=en&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/nmEAo-nzBgY&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;Pooooooor Aggies! (I couldn't resist throwin' that in there.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-617997121048966501?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/617997121048966501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=617997121048966501&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/617997121048966501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/617997121048966501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/texas-football-coach-adolph-hitler.html' title='Texas A&amp;M Football Coach Adolph Hitler'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6045800142358038285</id><published>2009-01-28T10:43:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T12:57:05.289-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Quirky is just another word for "fabulous"!</title><content type='html'>So, my boyfriend's sister recently had a post on &lt;a href="http://thelowecrew.blogspot.com/" target="blank"&gt;her blog &lt;/a&gt;that I guess you could kinda sorta call a meme. It's not really a meme as much as a question that someone had posed on their blog, and then she posed it on hers. I kinda liked it, so I'm going to pose it on mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question is essentially, "What's quirky about you?" Or I suppose you could ask it as, "What are your quirks?" I'll answer first, and then you guys answer in the comments section! (Or in &lt;a href="http://judysbragblog.blogspot.com/" target="blank"&gt;Judy&lt;/a&gt;'s case, she can use it for her own blog fodder!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so what's quirky about me? Well, for starters, I don't mix my food. When I eat a meal, I eat all of one thing before moving on to the next. So, I don't eat a little of this, and a little of that, then go back to this. ALL of the corn is eaten. Then I eat ALL of the mashed potatoes (or as much as I'm going to eat). Then I go on to the chicken fried steak, etc. I don't care if the food touches. That's not a thing. But I don't like to go back to a flavor. Once I'm done with it, I move on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admittedly, it requires some strategy. I have to calculate how much of each thing I really think I want to eat, lest I fill up on spinach and run out of room for mac and cheese (which, HELLO, would never happen, since I'd eat the mac and cheese first!). But I am allowed to go back for seconds and revisit the foods that I particularly enjoyed, once I've had a sampling of everything I intend to try. See - I'm flexible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other quirks? Well, let's see. My friend Vangie, who was my roommate for 2.5 years in the late 90s, alerted me during our tenure together to the previously unknown (to me) fact that I tend to leave electrical items on - like the iron or the coffee maker. She tended to leave cabinet doors open, so I would follow around behind her closing doors, and she would follow behind me turning things off. This worked well while we lived together, but once I had my own place, I had to start buying appliances that would turn themselves off after a certain period of time. The alternative was either becoming OCD about turning stuff off or burning my house down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the final quirky thing about me is my memory. I have a very strange memory. It's strikingly accurate at remembering faces and odd facts, but practically useless when it comes to remembering events in my own life, things I'm supposed to do, or what I'm supposed to be picking up at the grocery store. I can watch TV and see an actor or actress that I may have only seen a couple of times, years ago, in a supporting role in a show that maybe only had a few episodes and then got cancelled, and I never saw them again in anything else, and not only will I know I've seen them before, but given some time, I'll be able to tell what they were in and the role they played. I may not have a name, but I can tell you, "She was the receptionist in Lovespring International" (that's an ACTUAL example).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, my mother tells stories all the time about stuff that happened TO ME and I have no idea what she's talking about. And I don't mean stuff that happened when I was like 2 - I'm talking about things that happened in high school, or college, or even my 20s, and I'm like, "Really? Well...what did I do then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned to compensate for a complete and utter lack of useful memory by becoming uber-organized and writing *everything* down and trying to develop patterns (for example, always leaving my keys in the same place, since I won't remember where I put them if I set them down anywhere other than "where they go"). The good news is, if I get Alzheimer's one day, no one will notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, how about you? What's quirky about you? Or if you know something quirky about me that I don't know about myself, tell me! I'm fascinated by me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6045800142358038285?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6045800142358038285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6045800142358038285&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6045800142358038285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6045800142358038285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/quirky-is-just-another-word-for.html' title='Quirky is just another word for &quot;fabulous&quot;!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-2993982245802273572</id><published>2009-01-26T14:10:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T14:27:10.451-06:00</updated><title type='text'>There's nothing worse than a petty man in a position of power.</title><content type='html'>The first six seconds of this video (and the 4:59 mark) was me this morning on my way to work - only not to another driver that I'd just clipped but to a complete jerk of a sheriff's deputy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Said deputy thinks that "public service" means to mock a member of the public when his fellow deputy is sending that member (a driver) the wrong way and the driver yells at him (because the driver is in a moving car and that's the only way the deputy would be able to hear what they're saying) to tell them so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was scant satisfaction to be able to call him that, knowing he could do nothing about it since he had stay rooted in place, directing traffic, but it was satisfaction nonetheless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Public service = mocking? I think not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the video improves my mood, though. I gotta add this movie to my "favorites" on Facebook...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6mvP5GtIRVA&amp;hl=en&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/6mvP5GtIRVA&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;P.S. I've also many times delivered the "I'm disappointed!" line, though I'm not sure anyone ever gets it but me, and the apology scene about 4 minutes in is just plain classic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-2993982245802273572?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2993982245802273572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=2993982245802273572&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2993982245802273572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2993982245802273572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/theres-nothing-worse-than-petty-man-in.html' title='There&apos;s nothing worse than a petty man in a position of power.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-7964204356825829299</id><published>2009-01-23T12:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T13:01:25.320-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm no vegetarian...</title><content type='html'>but even I can't abide by this: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src='http://www.cbs.com/thunder/swf30can10cbsnews/rcpHolderCbs-3-4x3.swf' FlashVars='link=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Ecbsnews%2Ecom%2Fvideo%2Fwatch%2F%3Fid%3D4632991n&amp;partner=news&amp;vert=News&amp;autoPlayVid=false&amp;releaseURL=http://release.theplatform.com/content.select?pid=0Af7htNmOnKU_bIMnLx11GPoxxjKz_zp&amp;name=cbsPlayer&amp;allowScriptAccess=always&amp;wmode=transparent&amp;embedded=y&amp;scale=noscale&amp;rv=n&amp;salign=tl' allowFullScreen='true' width='425' height='324' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href='http://www.cbs.com'&gt;Watch CBS Videos Online&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll stick with &lt;a href="http://www.hutsfrankandangies.com/"&gt;Hut's&lt;/a&gt; (and just one patty), thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-7964204356825829299?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7964204356825829299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=7964204356825829299&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7964204356825829299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7964204356825829299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-no-vegetarian.html' title='I&apos;m no vegetarian...'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4156758641581961215</id><published>2009-01-21T09:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T09:34:47.321-06:00</updated><title type='text'>An elephant and a dog.</title><content type='html'>I saw this on another blog that I stop in on occasionally, and it made me tear up (in a good way): &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/s0TjfOKnF-c&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;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/s0TjfOKnF-c&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy, don't we all (creatures great and small) deserve at least one other being who will sit vigil for us when we're hurt or sick - one other soul who cares for us more than any other, and for whom it truly, deeply matters whether we're in their life or not? With a companion to walk the walk each day, whatever it brings - someone we can trust and who loves us just as we are - all the crappy stuff of life is bearable, isn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4156758641581961215?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4156758641581961215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4156758641581961215&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4156758641581961215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4156758641581961215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/elephant-and-dog.html' title='An elephant and a dog.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6006088688182541333</id><published>2009-01-20T13:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T14:02:25.894-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a dream, too.</title><content type='html'>I long for the day when we stop talking about our leaders (and everyone else) in terms of their ethnicity, gender, religion, etc., and instead, when we look at them and talk about them, the thrust of the conversation will be about their policies and, as MLK Jr. said, "the content of their character."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All anyone can talk about is how Obama being sworn in today is "HISTORY!!!" They're beside themselves, in some cases to the point of joyous tears, about the "history" that is being made today. And why is it history? Because he's black. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I get that it wasn't that long ago that black Americans were slaves. And it was even less time ago that they were institutionally treated as less than equal. They were forced to drink from different fountains, sit at the back of the bus, etc. It was NOT RIGHT. And I'll never understand it, because I simply do not understand the concept that the level of pigment in a person's skin has ANYTHING to do with their abilities, potential, character or humanity. So, it's meaningful that in the approximately 40 years since the civil rights movement, we have succesfully integrated to the point that we have elected a black president.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is that a great number of people voted for him only because he's black - not because of his qualifications or even the specific policies of his that they support. Howard Stern did a bit during the campaign where he sent a staffer down to talk to the "man on the street." The staffer would ask the interviewee if they agreed with Obama's policy of X - and in each case, X was one of McCain's or Bush's policies. In each case, the interviewee loudly proclaimed their support, even explaining WHY it was a good policy. They had no idea what Obama does or doesn't stand for, and they didn't really care. It was his FACE they were voting for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that means that while we've come a long way, we haven't gotten as far as we need to go. And don't even try to say "She must be racist." Because if Hillary had been elected, we'd be hearing this same thing, except it would be "HISTORY!!!" because she's a woman. Well, I'M a woman, and I gotta tell you, it irritates me that it's such damn breaking news every time a woman accomplishes something - like it's so unbelievable that a woman could be Speaker of the House or president that we have to cover it like aliens have landed. Yes, we have WOMBS. So what? It's not a mental handicap, and in this day and age, it shouldn't even have to be a conversation when a woman runs for president. Of course a woman ran for president. Why wouldn't a woman be running for president? Margaret Thatcher and Golda Meir took care of the whole "Can a woman run a country?" question a long time ago! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yes, we have a black president. Someday we will have a woman president. We'll also have a Jewish president someday. We've already had a disabled president (FDR, wheelchair-bound in case you were unaware). I'm sure we'll also have a gay president someday. And you know what? I *pray* that when we do, no one even TALKS about the fact that they're a female Jewish lesbian!! I hope THAT'S what's historical about it. Instead of seeing all the labels, we'll just see the person and if they're qualified, as a person and as a candidate/incumbent/political leader, to lead the greatest country on the face of this earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the history I'm waiting for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6006088688182541333?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6006088688182541333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6006088688182541333&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6006088688182541333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6006088688182541333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-have-dream-too.html' title='I have a dream, too.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-809508735194599354</id><published>2009-01-16T13:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T13:25:37.493-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Movin on</title><content type='html'>Allright, kids! Enough bummer news about deals that didn't work. It's Friday, so let's kick the weekend off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it might be time for another Cartoon Excellence Friday. Last time I shared some Space Ghost with you, some of you were...confused. You didn't really "get" it. I can understand where that might have happened since one of the guests was Bjork, and she's confusing to begin with. So, I'll try again, only this time the episode features Willie Nelson. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all know Willie Nelson, right? And if you're from Texas, and especially Austin, you love Willie, right? So, even if you're not sure you like Space Ghost, you'd get some satisfaction from seeing a local icon display a good sense of humor, right? Okay, then. One more time, a little Space Ghost Cartoon Excellence! Please to enjoy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/N7pig0eiuQ8&amp;hl=en&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/N7pig0eiuQ8&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/18658900-809508735194599354?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/809508735194599354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=809508735194599354&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/809508735194599354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/809508735194599354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/movin-on.html' title='Movin on'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3462022806513374198</id><published>2009-01-15T15:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T15:16:20.727-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No moguling for me.</title><content type='html'>I'm not talking about skiing - I'm talking about real estate. My big plans of being a two-house-owning mogul are not to be. At least not today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to close on the new house today, but Tuesday night I got a call. There was a "problem" with the title. I only marginally understood what this problem was, and the magnitude of what it would take to fix it, but it all became clear over the course of the next 24 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nutshell, an old couple lived in the house a long time. The house was in the wife's name. She died without a will, meaning the house goes to her children. I'm not sure how many she had, but one of them is taking care of Dad now, and at least one other was estranged from the family. He had kids in some other state, and then he up and died, meaning his share then went to his multiple children. No one knows these children or where they are. No one has ever contacted them, say, to have them sign away their share of the ownership of the house. THIS is where it becomes a problem for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are heirs to this house out there. You can't sell someone's inheritance without telling them - not without exposing yourself to a lawsuit. The fact that there are missing heirs means the title has a "cloud." You can't remove the cloud by just selling to someone else and hoping the rightful heirs never find out. You have to find them and have them sign off on the sale and get their share, or you have to go through a court process to clear the title. If I bought the house with the clouded title, and the heirs never found out, I'd *still* have a clouded title when I went to sell. And smart buyers don't buy a property with a clouded title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a smart buyer. Or at least I want to be one. For now, I'm a smart non-buyer. And it sucks, because I was very excited about this house, and it BITES that this happened, and that it happened at the 11th hour. I don't know what the seller will decide to do - find another sucker to buy with a clouded title or suck it up and go through the court process to clear the title. But one thing is certain: I didn't close on the house today, and for now, my deal is dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(sigh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank heaven I didn't sell my current house, and expressions of gratitude to the astute title company escrow officer and underwriter who spotted the cloud before I'd signed myself on to something shady. Sometimes bad news is what saves your butt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3462022806513374198?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3462022806513374198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3462022806513374198&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3462022806513374198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3462022806513374198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-moguling-for-me.html' title='No moguling for me.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-5544916081865519416</id><published>2009-01-13T10:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T10:27:22.360-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a whole new world.</title><content type='html'>Don't you dare close your eyes. (That was for you, J.) Seriously, though, it really is amazing time we're living in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, J had a FREE online conference call with his parents IN CHINA and three of his siblings, who are in Utah and Idaho, via &lt;a href="http://www.skype.com/" target="blank"&gt;Skype&lt;/a&gt;. It was real-time conversation, and they were able to talk for an hour without paying a dime! An hour-long, multi-participant international call for free thanks to the wonder of the Internet. Incredible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the conference call, J was able to talk to his folks one-on-one in a *video* call. They could see each other, just like they were in the other room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The service makes their money by charging when you use your computer to call a landline, but the computer-to-computer calls using Skype are free. It's awesome! If you have a webcam, you can do one-on-one video calls, but even if you don't have a webcam, you can still do voice-only calls. Conference calls don't include video, though - or at least we didn't find a way to do it last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you have loved ones in long-distance places, check it out. I've heard some complaints about dropped calls and such, which I suppose depends on the reliability of your Internet connection. But considering the cost (or should I say lack of one), that's hardly worth complaining about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no, I don't have any stock or ownership interest in Skype. I just thought it was too cool not to tell people about!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-5544916081865519416?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/5544916081865519416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=5544916081865519416&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5544916081865519416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/5544916081865519416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-whole-new-world.html' title='It&apos;s a whole new world.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-499416938467122329</id><published>2009-01-09T12:26:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T12:41:40.524-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing is better...</title><content type='html'>than this: &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SWeYQilOd8I/AAAAAAAAALM/iYdCdD0n5pQ/s1600-h/Stoops.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SWeYQilOd8I/AAAAAAAAALM/iYdCdD0n5pQ/s320/Stoops.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289363697298208706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except, of course, the BCS getting it right and having the OTHER team and the OTHER quarterback that beat OU this year playing Florida for the national title. But that was too obvious. So, I'll take Stoops angry and failed yet again. That's 2 and 7 now for OU in BCS bowls. Very impressive, Stoops. Very impressive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I think after last night, we can also see that the Heisman voters made the wrong choice as well. Maybe someday there will be a playoff system to avoid shams like last night, and we'll vote on individual awards, such as the Heisman, AFTER the bowl games/playoffs are over - when the season is actually over and the various candidates have had a chance, in some cases, to go head to head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(By the way, thanks to those of you who commented on yesterday's post. I didn't publish them all, but I appreciate that some of you DO read faithfully and get something from my blog. As J said, I should look at it as a journal and do it for myself and if others enjoy it, then so be it. So for now, I'll soldier on!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-499416938467122329?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/499416938467122329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=499416938467122329&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/499416938467122329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/499416938467122329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/nothing-is-better.html' title='Nothing is better...'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SWeYQilOd8I/AAAAAAAAALM/iYdCdD0n5pQ/s72-c/Stoops.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-2918122583211717381</id><published>2009-01-08T14:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T14:30:48.098-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why am I doing this?</title><content type='html'>So, my friend Lauren's food blog, &lt;a href="http://tastytype.blogspot.com/" target="blank"&gt;tastytype&lt;/a&gt;, is officially famous. She was featured in the Austin American-Statesman yesterday! That's so cool. I know her. And her blog is fantastic - she makes the best food!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I must admit, it makes me wonder why I'm bothering with this whole blog thing. Hardly anyone reads it, and almost no one comments, so why am I bothering? I realize I don't have a "theme" - like motherhood or food or politics. But I know other blogs that don't really have a theme either and they have tons of readers. Like &lt;a href="http://thelosthawaiian.blogspot.com/" target="blank"&gt;"The Lost Hawaiian." &lt;/a&gt;She just blogs about what's going on in her life, and she has readers from all over the country and even the world. She recently suggested it might be time to retire the blog, and people came out of the woodwork begging her to keep writing. I'm not sure anyone I don't know personally ever even reads mine. Clearly I'm not as entertaining as she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, is this just to have my own little soapbox? Because I could just vent to J if that's the case. I thought people might be engaged by different topics or enjoy getting a shout-out and get a laugh out of some of my stories. But I don't think I really grab anyone's interest. And I guess I can just keep up with people via Facebook, so I don't really need this as some kind of vehicle for keeping in touch with people. So, maybe I'm the one who ought to hang up her keyboard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-2918122583211717381?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2918122583211717381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=2918122583211717381&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2918122583211717381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2918122583211717381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-am-i-doing.html' title='Why am I doing this?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6030163396841982833</id><published>2009-01-07T14:02:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T14:39:16.681-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's okay. Really.</title><content type='html'>Isn't it a nice feeling when you reach the point in your life when you realize there is no perfection? It lifts such a burden. In so many ways, it takes a weight off of you. I've had occasion over the last couple of days to think about this, and I think it's a relief from several perspectives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You aren't perfect, and you never will be, so quit torturing yourself with insecurity about all the myriad ways you don't measure up. No one else does either. And in the end, no one would want to be around you if you WERE perfect, because they would always feel like they didn't measure up, so your imperfection - your humaness - in the end makes you more approachable and easier to be with. People are relieved when they can be their imperfect selves with you. So, be the best that you can be, but don't be afraid to say, "Here are my quirks and my imperfections. Can you love me anyway?" The ones who say, "YES!" are the ones you really want around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. No one else is perfect either. Know going into any relationship - one with a lover, a friend, or even a workmate - that they will not be *exactly* what you want in every possible way. It's simply not reasonable to ask it or expect it, and it's not fair to beat the other person up when they fall short of what you wish they were. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, see them as they are and accept them for who they are. Let them know what you can and can't live with and see if you can find a relationship with them that really works for both of you - not one where either of you has to pretend to be something you're not or has to hide who you are, but one where you can each be yourself and any adjustments you make in your behavior or attitudes to account for the other person's feelings or sensibilities are not sacrifices, but considerations. We all must be true to ourselves, but it's also a mark of strength when you can be flexible and considerate of someone else - when you know what battles are worth fighting and which ones aren't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Not only are people not perfect, neither are situations, jobs, events, etc. It's okay if your job gets boring sometimes, or your flowers weren't exactly right at your wedding, or your cat threw up on the couch. It's okay. If you get way more from something than the irritation costs, let go of the imperfection and concentrate on all the things that work about it. Do you like your job - does it work for you and your life? Did anyone even notice that the flowers weren't right, and more importantly, did you get married and have fun at the reception? Do you like your cat? Then it's all good. Don't ruin something that works by focusing on the few small things that in your fantasyland would be different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to think that if you *know* going in that no person, situation or event will be perfect, you take away all the power of imperfection. It doesn't surprise you when you find a flaw (or someone finds one in you), because you already knew there would be one, so you can see it for what it is, in context, without the shock of an unexpected blow or the distorted lens of unfair expectations. And just having the right expectation so often does the lion's share of the work toward making something manageable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think understanding that concept and really assimilating it comes with maturity. I'll look at that as a plus as I knock on the door of a new decade in my aging and grimace - after all, I'm probably going to get more practice at embracing my imperfection as I get older, huh? ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6030163396841982833?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6030163396841982833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6030163396841982833&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6030163396841982833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6030163396841982833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-okay-really.html' title='It&apos;s okay. Really.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-2325452548652288031</id><published>2009-01-06T08:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T09:34:23.605-06:00</updated><title type='text'>First 2009 Round Up!</title><content type='html'>Allright, kids! Let's get this 2009 party bus on the road with a little Round Up. Lots goin' on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. First and foremost, you're welcome. Everytime Angela and I watch a UT bowl game together, UT wins (2004 Rose Bowl, 2005 Rose Bowl, 2008 Fiesta Bowl). It's always a nailbiter, but UT pulls it out right at the end for an exciting victory. Angela and Jason hosted "Chili &amp; Longhorns" last night for UT's Fiesta Bowl game against Ohio State, and I think we all saw how that turned out: UT pulling victory from the jaws of defeat with only 16 seconds left on the clock! So, you're welcome. Ang and I will try to do this for you again next year when UT plays for the national championship with Heisman Winner Colt McCoy at the helm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/money/media/2009-01-05-digital-convertor-box-coupons_N.htm?loc=interstitialskip" target="blank"&gt;"The government's $1.34 billion coupon program for digital converter boxes ran out of money on Sunday."&lt;/a&gt; $1.34 billion dollars, people. $1.34 billion. 1.34 billion DOLLARS. So that people can watch TV without buying new sets. How much did the government spend in the 50s to provide everyone with TVs? Oh yeah - nothing! Because it's not the government's job to make sure we can all watch TV!! There's nothing in the Constitution that says the government should be seizing money from the citizens to give it to people who can't afford the next generation of electronics. It's not the government's job to make sure that all of our entertaiment equipment doesn't become obsolete. If so, then I want the government to buy me a Blu-Ray DVD player. And I'd like it to buy back my VCR. And all those people who bought Beta players in the 80s should have gotten a little taxpayer money. And why hasn't the government bought me an iPod? Oh, and I don't have GPS in my car, so the government should take care of that little matter immediately. It's beyond ridiculous that the government took money from my paycheck when we're in a RECESSION to give it to people so they don't have to shell out $40 for a converter box. What's next? Using my hard-earned dollars to bail out companies left and right for making terrible business deals? Oh yeah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I just saw "The Good Shepherd" via Netflix this past weekend. Great movie! And man, I really like Matt Damon (I know, Laurie...I know...)! That guy picks the most interesting movies, and he's really got range. From "The Talented Mr. Ripley" to "The Bourne Identity" movies to "The Good Shepherd" - you just know when you see his name on something that he and it are going to be good. He really is great. He's kind of like Tom Hanks - not the best looking guy on the screen, but he's so good and has such range and he makes such good choices, and he never does anything in his personal life that makes you want to punch him, so you just can't not like him! I hope he'll have the kind of long-term career Tom Hanks has. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Pei Wei's pad thai is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Just thought I'd let you know in case you hadn't tried it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. There was something this weekend that I remember telling J, "I'm blogging about that!" But I've forgotten what it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Why do the directions on Yahoo Maps, Google Maps, MapQuest, etc., all suck so bad? The last three times J and I have used them, we've gotten lost. Give me a good old-fashioned map any day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that's a start! Hope that gives you something to comment on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-2325452548652288031?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/2325452548652288031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=2325452548652288031&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2325452548652288031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/2325452548652288031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-2009-round-up.html' title='First 2009 Round Up!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8893054037500853631</id><published>2009-01-02T08:56:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T09:08:05.411-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Off we go!</title><content type='html'>So, 2009 is officially under way! I've got a good feeling about this year. I think it's going to be a good one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ushered it in with good friends and the fabulous J. We started with great food at &lt;a href="http://www.tavernabylombardi.com/" target="blank"&gt;Taverna &lt;/a&gt;, then took it on over to &lt;a href="http://www.speakeasyaustin.com/" target="blank"&gt;Speakeasy &lt;/a&gt;for a little Dysfunkshun Junction and a whole lotta DJ on the rooftop. We danced 2009 in, enjoying fireworks and mild weather and great company! Then yesterday, I got to spend the entire day watching football in my pajamas - I even gained some much-needed ground in Clint's Bowl Pick 'Em. So I have to say that so far, it's my best year yet! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as resolutions, I only have one, and it's one that J and I made jointly on New Year's morning (and by morning, I mean the wee hours, just before drifting off to sleep). The resolution for this year: to make 2009 the best year ever. Maybe that's one I can stick to! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8893054037500853631?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8893054037500853631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8893054037500853631&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8893054037500853631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8893054037500853631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2009/01/off-we-go.html' title='Off we go!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-1520794021558787585</id><published>2008-12-31T09:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T09:24:02.378-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>May you ring in 2009, and spend it, with someone you love. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QCqiHZdDnZI&amp;hl=en&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/QCqiHZdDnZI&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/18658900-1520794021558787585?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/1520794021558787585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=1520794021558787585&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/1520794021558787585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/1520794021558787585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6448382729404333531</id><published>2008-12-30T13:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T13:50:22.350-06:00</updated><title type='text'>How about just eating less and exercising?</title><content type='html'>Everywhere I turn online lately, I see ads for "Oprah's Acai Berry Diet!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what an acai berry is, but in case the marketers for this wonder fruit hadn't heard, Oprah recently announced that she now &lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20081209/ap_en_tv/people_oprah_winfrey_weight" target="blank"&gt;weighs in at 200 pounds&lt;/a&gt;. If I were looking for a diet, I probably wouldn't choose the one Oprah is on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Note: I went to search for a photo of the ads I've been seeing to include it on here, and somehow I stumbled on an ad/blog promoting colon cleansing. It included a photo of what "might be in your colon" if you're not cleansing. It was so disgusting I had to stop searching for photos, lest I accidentally land on another such image. What's wrong with people?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-6448382729404333531?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6448382729404333531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6448382729404333531&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6448382729404333531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6448382729404333531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/how-about-just-eating-less-and.html' title='How about just eating less and exercising?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4459637622110121389</id><published>2008-12-28T12:41:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T13:02:34.504-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Holidays, punks.</title><content type='html'>So, J and I made an unpleasant discovery yesterday. The wind was blowing pretty badly, and we thought we heard some stuff flying around outside. He looked out the window and saw that two of the slats in my gate had broken off at the top. Sheeeeeesh, we thought! That's *some* wind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then went outside and discovered that one of the posts on my fence had also broken, and the fence was swaying in the wind. That fence cost me $1800 six years ago and has been absolute crap. My father has had to shore it up every year in one place or another with long bolts, and the stretch that was swaying yesterday is one of the last sections that my dad hasn't had to secure, so I wasn't surprised. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm looking at the fence, though, I spot something on ground near the gate. It was the solar screen from the window by the gate. It was on the ground and twisted on one side, and the two pieces of broken-off slat from the gate were under it. "Good grief!" I'm thinking. "What's going on out here?" But my immediate concern is the fence since the whole thing is just swaying now, like it's going to come down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go in and tell J, and he grabs his tools, and we go out and secure the fence, at least temporarily. We also bring the screen in to look at it. It's fixable, so he bends it back and replaces it. But the more we think about it, somethin' ain't right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We look at the gate. The broken pieces were inside the fence, but you know what? They broke off the other way. And the gate is pulled out by an inch or more at the bottom. We look closer at the screen. There's a thumb mark. Shit. This wasn't wind damage - someone tried to break in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J called the cops, and a really cool deputy came out. He verified that it was an attempted break-in - he pointed out some other evidence that we hadn't noticed, and he said that there had been a rash of break-ins in the cul-de-sac around the corner. He said he had some suspects, but the other people hit wouldn't press charges, including one lady who had been hit multiple times. I know this lady - she doesn't speak English, and to be honest, I'm surprised she even called the cops. J told him that we'd press charges if they caught anyone, though. Here's the best part about the damage to my gate: the gate on the other side was unlocked. Idiots. Criminals and idiots - great combination.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we'll be stepping up our safety precautions around the casa. We're not sure what scared the punks away from actually breaking into the house after they'd already damaged it and started their attempt to break in, but whatever it was, hopefully it's permanent and they won't try here again. We'll keeping a vigilant eye out, though, and we'll be making sure the new house has an alarm system installed before we move in there. Too bad that bad people force us to live in wired fortresses, isn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4459637622110121389?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4459637622110121389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4459637622110121389&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4459637622110121389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4459637622110121389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-holidays-punks.html' title='Happy Holidays, punks.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4289290697795190839</id><published>2008-12-26T08:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T08:58:02.984-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas cards</title><content type='html'>If I've blogged before about this, I apologize (I'm far too lazy to actually go look and see if I have). On second thought, I don't apologize, because the fact that I need to blog about it again means I must not have gotten through to everyone the first time, so really, it's your own fault that I'm blogging about it again. If I've already blogged about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm talking about Christmas cards. I send Christmas cards every year, and I enjoy getting them. I love the letter kind where people tell you about their year, and I also really like the kind with photos. (Though I'll admit right now, I've been bad about not sending either of those kind in the past myself.) Christmas cards are one of those "touching base" kinda things where you can stay in touch with people you don't keep up with otherwise - not even on a blog or Facebook. It's a "Hello! I still remember you exist!" and "This is what I look like now!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except that I've found that for most people, it's *not* a "This is what I look like now!" It's a "This is what my kids look like now!" Here's the thing about that. Unless I have a relationship with your kids, I'm way more interested in how YOU look. YOU are the one I know, not your kids. I know your kids exist, and a *family* picture showing you and your kids is interesting - I like to see if I can spot resemblances and it helps me remember your kids aren't toddlers anymore. But if the only photo you send is of your kid, I gotta tell you, I'm disappointed. When I see that photo, all I'm really wondering is what YOU look like - you...my friend...the person I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll make you a deal. Next year, I will try to send a card with a photo that has ME in it, and you send a card with a photo that has YOU in it. I may even get crazy and try to write a letter to go with mine. But that's not part of the deal - that's just a thought I'm having now, with 364 days to go until next Christmas. The deal just includes the photo. And yes, the photo must be recent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4289290697795190839?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4289290697795190839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4289290697795190839&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4289290697795190839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4289290697795190839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-cards.html' title='Christmas cards'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-816238333779802167</id><published>2008-12-23T10:09:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T10:12:45.612-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas, everbuddy!</title><content type='html'>I won't be posting for a couple of days, so I'll leave you with another video clip from a classic Christmas movie (my definition of "classic" may be different from yours): Christmas Vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy, and have a great Christmas, everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HdiXSsFp29s&amp;hl=en&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/HdiXSsFp29s&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/18658900-816238333779802167?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/816238333779802167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=816238333779802167&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/816238333779802167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/816238333779802167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas-everbuddy.html' title='Merry Christmas, everbuddy!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-3362637966141682096</id><published>2008-12-22T09:47:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T13:18:12.582-06:00</updated><title type='text'>That's what I get for exercising.</title><content type='html'>Interesting weekend, weather-wise around here. We hit 80 on Saturday, followed by a high in the 40s on Sunday! Craaaaazy. Luckily, we had warning that this is how it would be, so Saturday, J and I decided to get in a bike ride down by the lake before the cold hit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We biked down the Town Lake trail, checked out the cool pics that are now part of the bridge along 1st Street (FINE - call it Cesar Chavez if you will, but when it was 1st Street, people knew where it was), headed back to the East side where we had parked, then decided to ride past our new house. That's where it all went wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are rail tracks around that area, and I had ended up kind of among them. I knew that I should get clear of them, but was watching for a spot where there wasn't a gap between the rail and the pavement - minimize the chance of catching my tire in the tracks. J, apparently, had the same concerns. I heard him say something to me and thought he was telling me to turn onto the street we were passing. So, I turned abruptly...right into a groove between the rail and pavement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wheel caught, stopping my bike while my body continued forward. I managed to jump clear of the bike as it went down, stumbled forward for what seemed like about 50 steps, then just as I thought I might have my feet under me, my torso pitched forward, and I had no choice but to put my hand down to catch myself. Few things feel as awesome as skin on pavement. If you'd like to check it out yourself, some of mine is still there, down around 3rd Street and Pedernales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up scraping the crap out of the lower part of my palm and jamming my middle finger on my left hand. It could've been far worse, but that's been enough to cause some discomfort the last couple of days. I think we're all relieved to know that even with my hand all banged up, I can still play my bass, though. We had rehearsal yesterday. The show must go on, you know. :) Oh, and for the record, J wasn't telling me to turn. He was telling me I shouldn't be riding in the rail tracks. Irony, right? (Yes, Alanis Morrisette - that's what irony is. Not rain on your wedding day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this was on top of banging my head into a cabinet door when I sneezed the other day, so I think I may have some sort of self-destructive streak in my subconscous that I'm unaware of. Or possibly someone has voodoo-dolled me. I find that uncharitable, especially at Christmastime. Santa's gonna be leavin' someone some coal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-3362637966141682096?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/3362637966141682096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=3362637966141682096&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3362637966141682096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/3362637966141682096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/thats-what-i-get-for-exercising.html' title='That&apos;s what I get for exercising.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-6786011397422197005</id><published>2008-12-19T13:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T13:23:07.068-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost forgot...</title><content type='html'>It's Friday! I'm so busy rambling on about my NEW HOUSE, I forgot that it's video Friday. In honor of next week's festivities, here's a little sumpin from one of my favorite holiday movies. Let's get excited, people!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9jyCfRHumHU&amp;hl=en&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/9jyCfRHumHU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&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/18658900-6786011397422197005?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/6786011397422197005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=6786011397422197005&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6786011397422197005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/6786011397422197005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/almost-forgot.html' title='Almost forgot...'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8036686913974496651</id><published>2008-12-19T09:53:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T10:16:35.585-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa's bringin' me a house for Christmas.</title><content type='html'>So, as if I didn't have enough going on this holiday season, I've completely lost my mind and decided to buy a house. Yes, I already have a house. No, I'm not selling the one I already have. No, I'm not kidding. Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last May, I put my house on the market, with the intention of buying a house closer in to town. I love my current house, but it's kind of in the middle of nowhere and it's not turning out to be the investment I had expected it to be when I bought it six years ago. At the time, it seemed like a good gamble. It was in the only area of town that really had any room for growth, and there was a brand new tollway coming in only a couple of miles away, and it was a fantastic house for the price. I figured I'd have it about two years, and then I could sell it for a profit and move up/in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is, they kept building more new houses (meaning I was competing against brand new houses with builder incentives), but they didn't build any of the infrastructure I expected - more roads in and out, a grocery store, etc. There's been a *little* of that - a traffic light installed, the road widened by the elementary school around the corner - but overall, it's the same remote kind of setup it was when I bought. So, the value hasn't increased. In fact the appraisal is less than I paid. Not cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I decided to sell and see if I could at least break even and try again in a more optimistic location. And then the market crashed. Before I even got an offer, I was competing against foreclosures. After 5 months on the market, I never got an offer. So, I took it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all this time, I was watching the listings in the area I wanted to move to. I figured I'd try again in the spring. Until a week ago. I had seen a house worth watching get listed the week before. I added it to my stack. Then last week it suddenly dropped in price. Like a lot. Like...I could buy the place and still keep the one I'm in. Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we're looking at the outside and calling Realtors. The next day we're in it, looking around. The next I'm making an offer. The next the offer is accepted. The next we're calling inspectors, insurance people, filling out mountains of paperwork. Bottom line, here we are a week later, with every indication that I will very soon have a new house, 8 minutes from my job, and be looking for someone to rent my other house until the market comes back enough for me to sell without losing my shirt. CRAZY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I have several friends who are doing exactly what I'm about to do, so I have lots of people to lean on for advice about renting out my house and renovation, etc. And as fast as it's all going, it also feels like it's all been going on since May, so it doesn't really feel as fast as it sounds. It's just a little different from how I first expected it to play out. But I'm excited, and I really think it's going to all work out very well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, wish me luck that all the t's get crossed and the i's get dotted and I will soon have lots of DIY posts to bore you with!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8036686913974496651?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8036686913974496651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8036686913974496651&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8036686913974496651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8036686913974496651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/santas-bringin-me-house-for-christmas.html' title='Santa&apos;s bringin&apos; me a house for Christmas.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4686260130331675961</id><published>2008-12-18T09:37:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T11:06:59.510-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I do not trust the calm.</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been in such a whirlwind of activity that when it finally backs off, even if just for a day, you feel a little lost - like you should be working on something frantically (as you have been for days), but you're not sure what? Yeah. Me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last week has been absolutely crazy for me. Holiday stuff, and some medical stuff, and a big project, and an unusually busy workload - I've just barely made it through each day, checking and re-checking to make sure nothing important slipped through the cracks. And then today, I get to the office, start looking around me, and nothing is on fire. I have some stuff to do, but it's actually manageable. And while today will be long - a social engagement right after work means I won't get home until late in the evening - it doesn't look like it's going to be as overwhelming as the last week has been. The pace is actually something approaching normal, as opposed to a tornado inside a hurricane, like every other day for the past week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't be sure that it won't all start back up again before the day is over or by tomorrow. But at least there's been this morning. I think I'll double-check my daytimer again, just to make sure I haven't forgotten something vital...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-4686260130331675961?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4686260130331675961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4686260130331675961&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4686260130331675961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4686260130331675961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-do-not-trust-calm.html' title='I do not trust the calm.'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-7997602059539549703</id><published>2008-12-15T12:44:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T13:56:25.380-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why you gotta make me go "grrrr"?</title><content type='html'>So, I was all determined to write a happy post today. I had a good weekend. I got to spend time with my favorite boyfriend, got to sleep in, got to have dinner with my friend Sheila at a great little &lt;a href="http://www.southcongresscafe.com/" target="blank"&gt;SoCo restaurant&lt;/a&gt; I'd never been to before. I did my nails. I finished my Christmas decorating. It's all good, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went out to lunch to do some Christmas shopping, and right in front of me at a red light, the guy in the car ahead of me opens his driver's side door and empties his entire nasty-ass car ashtray in the street! Just dumped his trash all over the road! Boy, that ticked me off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The street is not a Dumpster. If you want to live in a nice place, you have to treat where you live nicely. You can give some people the nicest car on the lot, and they will have it banged up and smelling bad before it's off the lot. You could give them a nice house in a nice neighborhood, and they will park on the lawn (I know because I used to see it all the time in my neighborhood when it was BRAND NEW). You could give them a beautiful, clean city, and they will spraypaint graffiti all the over the walls and break bottles and throw their cigarette butts in the street. And then you know what they'll do? Complain because the place is a dirty and run-down - it's somehow the world's fault instead of their own that they're vomitting in their own bed (and I chose the nicer term there, just FYI).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate litter. I hate graffiti. I hate destruction for the sake of it. This is a beautiful city. And it's a privilege to live here. If you want to throw garbage on the ground/floor/street, do it inside your own house, and admit that you don't think you deserve anything better. But don't ruin the beautiful atmosphere here for the rest of us, who actually appreciate our lovely city and make an effort to preserve its beauty. Like our lungs, we like our streets clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grrrr! (This is not to be confused with Mike Straka's &lt;a href="http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/straka/index.html" target="blank"&gt;GRRR! column &lt;/a&gt;on FoxNews.com. But "Grumble." didn't have the same impact.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-7997602059539549703?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/7997602059539549703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=7997602059539549703&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7997602059539549703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/7997602059539549703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/why-you-gotta-make-me-go-grrrr.html' title='Why you gotta make me go &quot;grrrr&quot;?'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-4882012184302809916</id><published>2008-12-12T07:54:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T13:00:55.838-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Naughty Christmas Video Friday!</title><content type='html'>I put "naughty" in the title so no one would be confused or say they weren't warned. Let me reiterate, this video is not for kids. It's not porn - it aired on broadcast television, but it aired on SNL, at night, after the kiddos would be in bed, so it's grown-up hilarity. So, if that's something that bothers you, don't push play on the video. Have we all been warned? We're not going to send chastising, blame-filled comments about how I ruined anyone's day, weekend or Christmas season? Good. Then, let's get to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll call this one an oldie but a goodie, though it's only a couple of years old. I think it's one of the first things that Justin Timberlake did for SNL showing what a great sense of humor he has. It's a spoof of his old boy-band 90s music days, and it's all about a "special" kinda Christmas present. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as you finish up your Christmas shopping and plan for the big day coming up in a week and a half, just remember to beware if your man doesn't have to use his hands to carry his gift to you. And unwrap it carefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WhwbxEfy7fg&amp;hl=en&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/WhwbxEfy7fg&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/18658900-4882012184302809916?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/4882012184302809916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=4882012184302809916&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4882012184302809916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/4882012184302809916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/naughty-christmas-video-friday.html' title='Naughty Christmas Video Friday!'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18658900.post-8611207416705301635</id><published>2008-12-11T08:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T08:59:07.484-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Valkyrie</title><content type='html'>Tom Cruise has a new movie out. It's called &lt;a href="http://valkyrie.unitedartists.com/" target="blank"&gt;Valkyrie&lt;/a&gt;, and it's based on a true story - about an attempted assassination of Hitler during World War II.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm kind of a WWII buff, so I know the story, and it's a good one. So, I'd like to see a movie about it. The only problem is that I don't really like Tom Cruise, and the trailer I saw the other day made me purse my lips. It showed Tom and some compatriots discussing the plan for the assassination attempt, and someone says they need someone to carry it out, and Tom's character says, "I'll do it" in a very resolute tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told J that the thing that bugs me is that I think Tom actually sees himself as that guy. I think he actually believes that he could single-handedly save the world, if necessary, and that he would, in fact, step up resolutely to plant the bomb to take out the tyrant. I think he thinks of himself as a bit of a superhero. And that makes it hard for me to watch him. He's a great actor, but when I think he's kind of just playing himself, or rather how he sees himself, well...it makes my lips purse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brad Pitt doesn't really do anything for me, and I tend to think he takes himself a little too seriously, but then he shows a sense of humor about his roles, like in "Burn After Reading" or even with "Ocean's Eleven" and I like him better. And I can't stand Sean Penn on a personal level, but he's an amazing actor who takes on a wide variety of roles that aren't just a reflection of who he thinks he is, so I can lose myself in his performance. I can forget that I loathe him in real life and just go for the ride because his characters are diverse and interesting and he's so great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But lately Tom just kind of plays the same guy all the time - the hero. Or maybe it just feels that way. And since I kinda think that's who he thinks he is, and I don't, well...I just can't enjoy it as much. And that sucks since I'd really like to see a well-done adaptation of the Valkyrie story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18658900-8611207416705301635?l=suzannesramblings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/feeds/8611207416705301635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18658900&amp;postID=8611207416705301635&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8611207416705301635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18658900/posts/default/8611207416705301635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzannesramblings.blogspot.com/2008/12/valkyrie.html' title='Valkyrie'/><author><name>Suzanne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15695239609874538025</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1xYIRfTWAAA/SYnDcD27I3I/AAAAAAAAALg/StMsJj0AfnY/S220/myYearbookPhoto.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
