<?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-4256482452589545204</id><updated>2012-02-16T05:05:43.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Such is Life</title><subtitle type='html'>"Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else." -Judy Garland</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>182</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-1600794609299184099</id><published>2011-02-15T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T17:41:42.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>Okay, I know I'm a crappy blogger, but since I've lost so much time, I'm going to start from now. Also, I'm a crappy blogger because I forgot to take pictures. However, Valentine's Day was lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris came home from work and sent me to get a Diet Coke (there's a promotion at the 7-11 by my house - 49 cent refills- I know!!!) while he prepared dinner. I came home to a dinner of tacos and nachos! If that doesn't say love, I don't know what does! We then got frozen yogurt for dessert and watched UP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't have asked for a better day to celebrate with a better man! I hope your Valentine's was nice, too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-1600794609299184099?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/1600794609299184099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=1600794609299184099&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1600794609299184099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1600794609299184099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2011/02/perfect-valentines-day.html' title='Perfect Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-6730612447016710793</id><published>2010-12-03T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T17:31:40.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Y'all...I'm MARRIED!</title><content type='html'>Just letting you know I still exist. I'm impatiently waiting for the photographer to get our pics back to us of that crazy, chaotic, whirlwind day. Until then, I've stolen this pic from my cute sis-in-law's &lt;a href="http://highwaytoadoption.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TPmLWi3u-HI/AAAAAAAABS4/P3xFvP9LGOM/s1600/DSCN1067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="228" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TPmLWi3u-HI/AAAAAAAABS4/P3xFvP9LGOM/s320/DSCN1067.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Chris's great family. You know the second I get those pics, you'll get a post overloaded with photos. Until then, I'm pretending to be Susie Homemaker while I do the whole job hunt thing. Can't wait to give you a rundown of the day!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-6730612447016710793?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/6730612447016710793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=6730612447016710793&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6730612447016710793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6730612447016710793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/12/yallim-married.html' title='Y&apos;all...I&apos;m MARRIED!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TPmLWi3u-HI/AAAAAAAABS4/P3xFvP9LGOM/s72-c/DSCN1067.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3387139536475699917</id><published>2010-10-27T11:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T11:15:51.094-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Giveaway! (not from me)</title><content type='html'>Remember how I think our photographer is &lt;a href="http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/10/engaged-pictures.html"&gt;awesome&lt;/a&gt;?!?! Well, I do. Not only is she a great photographer, she has an incredible heart. She has some friends who are doing a 5K fundraiser and is giving away a photo session and I'm not really posting this to win the session, but I do want to spread the word. And heck, if you spread the word too, you might be able to win a photo session!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please take a moment to head over to &lt;a href="http://sarahtoblerphotography.blogspot.com/2010/10/giveaway.html"&gt;her blog&lt;/a&gt; and learn more about the 5K and maybe even enter to run or walk it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3387139536475699917?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3387139536475699917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3387139536475699917&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3387139536475699917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3387139536475699917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/10/giveaway-not-from-me.html' title='Giveaway! (not from me)'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-6159929495125154109</id><published>2010-10-27T10:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T10:34:14.852-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TMhUK8FbjmI/AAAAAAAABS0/Wyq_oNqa7lI/s1600/118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TMhUK8FbjmI/AAAAAAAABS0/Wyq_oNqa7lI/s640/118.jpg" width="424" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This smile that I had the pleasure to receive in this picture. This is one of the many reasons I love him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-6159929495125154109?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/6159929495125154109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=6159929495125154109&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6159929495125154109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6159929495125154109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/10/this.html' title='This...'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TMhUK8FbjmI/AAAAAAAABS0/Wyq_oNqa7lI/s72-c/118.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-4698967783375622708</id><published>2010-10-14T12:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T12:14:03.259-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Roomie shower!</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago, my roomies threw me my first bridal shower! They went to so much work to make it a success and I absolutely loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdBR-KdB9I/AAAAAAAABRk/_VknpNOMIPE/s320/IMG_1887.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't worry...it's sparkling pear juice&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdBR-KdB9I/AAAAAAAABRk/_VknpNOMIPE/s1600/IMG_1887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;The food was incredible:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdCRw9lqLI/AAAAAAAABRo/4scdp798LOY/s1600/IMG_1900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdCRw9lqLI/AAAAAAAABRo/4scdp798LOY/s200/IMG_1900.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdFXaFn51I/AAAAAAAABSI/sG3IAGEHFFs/s1600/IMG_1899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdFXaFn51I/AAAAAAAABSI/sG3IAGEHFFs/s200/IMG_1899.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdFo5QmBgI/AAAAAAAABSM/4pnTTj9gZAw/s1600/IMG_1898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdFo5QmBgI/AAAAAAAABSM/4pnTTj9gZAw/s200/IMG_1898.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdFsGLXrPI/AAAAAAAABSQ/aQH2VShgpj4/s1600/IMG_1897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdFsGLXrPI/AAAAAAAABSQ/aQH2VShgpj4/s200/IMG_1897.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdGFHLg-PI/AAAAAAAABSU/rzk9BVUSf9M/s1600/IMG_1895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdGFHLg-PI/AAAAAAAABSU/rzk9BVUSf9M/s200/IMG_1895.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdGI3qLXMI/AAAAAAAABSY/RRT_Svmvtac/s1600/IMG_1894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdGI3qLXMI/AAAAAAAABSY/RRT_Svmvtac/s200/IMG_1894.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdGfXX7Z8I/AAAAAAAABSc/8LY0Exzq61k/s1600/IMG_1893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdGfXX7Z8I/AAAAAAAABSc/8LY0Exzq61k/s200/IMG_1893.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdGjLC2r6I/AAAAAAAABSg/3gHvOuejHu8/s1600/IMG_1892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdGjLC2r6I/AAAAAAAABSg/3gHvOuejHu8/s200/IMG_1892.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was blessed with lots of love and gifts, as you can see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdHUXN4oeI/AAAAAAAABSk/9TxGRVqkQJM/s1600/IMG_1922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdHUXN4oeI/AAAAAAAABSk/9TxGRVqkQJM/s320/IMG_1922.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Now, I won't post pictures of all of the gifts, but I do have to talk about one. When I saw it, I told everyone that Chris would be so excited we got it! He wanted to register for it so badly, and I take advantage of any opportunity that he gets truly excited about anything wedding related. So, here's the gift:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdHvR0jluI/AAAAAAAABSo/6pfRsRwPZ-k/s1600/IMG_1905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdHvR0jluI/AAAAAAAABSo/6pfRsRwPZ-k/s320/IMG_1905.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And here's the use:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdH6GvGEzI/AAAAAAAABSs/ba-VKzigr2s/s1600/IMG_1931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdH6GvGEzI/AAAAAAAABSs/ba-VKzigr2s/s320/IMG_1931.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Can't tell what it is? It's laundry detergent! This was all his idea and I love it! He was seriously so excited to get it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to all who came and supported us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-4698967783375622708?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/4698967783375622708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=4698967783375622708&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4698967783375622708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4698967783375622708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/10/roomie-shower.html' title='Roomie shower!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLdBR-KdB9I/AAAAAAAABRk/_VknpNOMIPE/s72-c/IMG_1887.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-629533279617344604</id><published>2010-10-14T11:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T11:32:49.419-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Jackson Hole</title><content type='html'>Guess who brought their camera to work today? So now, you get pictures.&lt;br /&gt;First things first...Chris owns a motorcycle. I'd only been on it once before he tore his ACL and had to have surgery. But last month, we went on a trip with his sister, dad and old roommate up to Jackson Hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left on a Friday morning and stopped in Logan at Juniper Take-Out for lunch. It's seriously one of my favorite eats in Logan - outside of The Formosa (which was, funny enough, a Leatherby's several years ago). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc0XK1c7OI/AAAAAAAABRA/YptQuY8tCpM/s320/IMG_0276.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is Doug, Chris's dad, figuring out the GPS&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc797XxmmI/AAAAAAAABRE/uJ66zIkNMbs/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-10-14+at+11.00.03+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc797XxmmI/AAAAAAAABRE/uJ66zIkNMbs/s320/Screen+shot+2010-10-14+at+11.00.03+AM.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While on the road, I decided to take some pictures...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc0VO4H_wI/AAAAAAAABQ8/jBIGWSXkIlw/s320/IMG_0279.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Probably shouldn't take cell pictures while driving...&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc0VO4H_wI/AAAAAAAABQ8/jBIGWSXkIlw/s1600/IMG_0279.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc0SeNvimI/AAAAAAAABQ4/-wKY5o5B9no/s320/IMG_0282.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My viewpoint on the motorcycle&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc0SeNvimI/AAAAAAAABQ4/-wKY5o5B9no/s1600/IMG_0282.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;We took a day trip up to Yellowstone to see Old Faithful, because I had never been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc8wr29A5I/AAAAAAAABRI/SCxTGA6rTqw/s1600/IMG_1811.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc8wr29A5I/AAAAAAAABRI/SCxTGA6rTqw/s320/IMG_1811.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc80JWGLHI/AAAAAAAABRM/bl62ns9MQ5k/s1600/IMG_1813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc80JWGLHI/AAAAAAAABRM/bl62ns9MQ5k/s320/IMG_1813.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc8315lEkI/AAAAAAAABRQ/as8UMKSFzWw/s320/IMG_1818.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This little guy was looking for scraps&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc8315lEkI/AAAAAAAABRQ/as8UMKSFzWw/s1600/IMG_1818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc9AcdbiuI/AAAAAAAABRY/DgRaUqOxAXQ/s320/IMG_1825.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;I got bored while waiting and noticed my hair made a funny shadow, Heather joined in the picture taking fun! Doug looked at me like I was crazy. He's probably right.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc9AcdbiuI/AAAAAAAABRY/DgRaUqOxAXQ/s1600/IMG_1825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We had Mexican food at a really yummy restaurant that happened to have pigs painted everywhere on the walls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc9-PUt9gI/AAAAAAAABRg/3Xt9o_64H4I/s320/IMG_0283.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yummy! Sopapillas are a childhood favorite of mine!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc9-PUt9gI/AAAAAAAABRg/3Xt9o_64H4I/s1600/IMG_0283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="237" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc9eMq4e8I/AAAAAAAABRc/4h87kdn7LYc/s320/Screen+shot+2010-10-14+at+11.00.45+AM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;After the yummy Mexican food!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc9eMq4e8I/AAAAAAAABRc/4h87kdn7LYc/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-10-14+at+11.00.45+AM.png"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc0NwzNhRI/AAAAAAAABQw/g4QY74rzDdc/s320/IMG_0284.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm a hardcore motorcycle chick with a tattoo. You believe that, right?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc0NwzNhRI/AAAAAAAABQw/g4QY74rzDdc/s1600/IMG_0284.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;At the end of the trip, I noticed this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc0Jg_yPiI/AAAAAAAABQo/V7WKTbjMpNU/s320/IMG_0288.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bug guts from the trip&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc0Jg_yPiI/AAAAAAAABQo/V7WKTbjMpNU/s1600/IMG_0288.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;This was such a fun trip and I'm looking forward to going on some more! The Cooleys are a fun clan to travel with. Even if the trip meant I was walking funny for a day or two after...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-629533279617344604?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/629533279617344604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=629533279617344604&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/629533279617344604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/629533279617344604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/10/jackson-hole.html' title='Jackson Hole'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLc0XK1c7OI/AAAAAAAABRA/YptQuY8tCpM/s72-c/IMG_0276.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-8548699943906876815</id><published>2010-10-12T12:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T13:03:52.862-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Engaged! The Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSY7hUXyNI/AAAAAAAABQA/E-438elO91I/s320/004.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how I got engaged, told you the story a little late and have basically ignored my blog? Well guess what? I have a second! So you get to see some of the results from our engagement shoot. I found our &lt;a href="http://www.sarahtoblerphotography.blogspot.com/"&gt;photographer&lt;/a&gt;, Sarah Tobler, while searching KSL Services and she is awesome! The thing I like about her the best is she has taken us to the most unassuming places and if I took you to the spot, you would never guess she got such great shots from there.&lt;br /&gt;For our engagements, we met her on a trail up Little Cottonwood Canyon. So we took all of these shots while mountain bikers raced past us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here are a few of my favorites: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZelZbAVI/AAAAAAAABQE/7qUwhkZh4Y8/s320/008%281%29.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This one is possibly my favorite from the whole series&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZelZbAVI/AAAAAAAABQE/7qUwhkZh4Y8/s1600/008%281%29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZg42LZRI/AAAAAAAABQI/ptioXneEodc/s1600/013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZg42LZRI/AAAAAAAABQI/ptioXneEodc/s320/013.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZiZRZOeI/AAAAAAAABQM/x18VHTrNuCk/s1600/021%281%29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZiZRZOeI/AAAAAAAABQM/x18VHTrNuCk/s320/021%281%29.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZjVu5vQI/AAAAAAAABQQ/3gm7FeGqVAk/s1600/030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZjVu5vQI/AAAAAAAABQQ/3gm7FeGqVAk/s320/030.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZlN1slXI/AAAAAAAABQU/CdC27S7OQqQ/s1600/039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZlN1slXI/AAAAAAAABQU/CdC27S7OQqQ/s320/039.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZmt08ZQI/AAAAAAAABQY/aBVTtm8lncM/s1600/047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZmt08ZQI/AAAAAAAABQY/aBVTtm8lncM/s320/047.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZn-cfYjI/AAAAAAAABQc/iR-nV4h4cfc/s1600/049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZn-cfYjI/AAAAAAAABQc/iR-nV4h4cfc/s320/049.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZpRGi9PI/AAAAAAAABQg/19qwZcWYoSA/s320/051.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;She had us do some "serious" shots, and I&amp;nbsp; think Chris looks like a sad little puppy dog in this one&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSZpRGi9PI/AAAAAAAABQg/19qwZcWYoSA/s1600/051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So there you have it! Everything is coming together so nicely. We did our formal session this past week and I can't wait to see the results!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tons of pictures waiting to be uploaded and when I finally get to it, I'm sure there'll be a post overload.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-8548699943906876815?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/8548699943906876815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=8548699943906876815&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8548699943906876815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8548699943906876815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/10/engaged-pictures.html' title='Engaged! The Pictures'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TLSY7hUXyNI/AAAAAAAABQA/E-438elO91I/s72-c/004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-4473648131212410407</id><published>2010-09-10T12:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T12:52:24.225-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh man. I know this video has been around the internet lately, but I just got around to watching it. If you've got a few minutes, listen to this. If you're as emotional as I am, grab a tissue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/12562270?color=ffffff" width="400"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/12562270"&gt;Danny &amp;amp; Annie&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/storycorps"&gt;StoryCorps&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to their actual &lt;a href="http://storycorps.org/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; and am afraid to listen to some of the stories in public for fear that I'll become a complete mess while listening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-4473648131212410407?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/4473648131212410407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=4473648131212410407&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4473648131212410407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4473648131212410407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/09/oh-man.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-7354330357955799104</id><published>2010-08-11T10:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T10:11:21.302-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, I have an odd sense of humor sometimes. Like with this commercial. I get uncontrolable giggles whenever I see it or try to explain it to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8F_G2zp-opg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;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/8F_G2zp-opg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;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&gt;Maybe someone else will find it as amusing as I do. Doubtful, but maybe. If not, at least you'll be able to have a moment to think about what a crazy I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-7354330357955799104?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/7354330357955799104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=7354330357955799104&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7354330357955799104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7354330357955799104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/08/so-i-have-odd-sense-of-humor-sometimes.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-5886404158084167683</id><published>2010-08-09T14:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T14:40:56.289-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Engaged! The Story</title><content type='html'>I know I'm full of empty promises about sharing the trip to Canada with you, but I figure I can at least give you the story of the proposal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, I like to think I'm a fairly observant and intuitive person, but I'm so glad I was completely clueless on July 15, 2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back-story items:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was positive Chris had had the ring for sometime. I was also positive that he would try and fake me out when it came to a proposal. So I didn't ever think, "Is this the moment he's going to propose?"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chris was always asking if I still wanted to marry him. So, I was used to hearing "Do you want to marry me?" never taking it too seriously as "the moment". &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wore a ring on my left hand which Chris would always fiddle with. After we'd gone ring shopping, every time he tried to fiddle with it, I would tell him that he wasn't allowed to touch that ring unless he was replacing it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Now, the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed to Lake Louise after breakfast and the plan was for me &amp;amp; Chris and Heather &amp;amp; James (Chris's sister and brother-in-law) to rent canoes and enjoy the lake while Chris's parents, sister, and nephews hung out lakeside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBkHPb_tWI/AAAAAAAABOs/lz4t3Q3eQQA/s1600/IMG_1448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBkHPb_tWI/AAAAAAAABOs/lz4t3Q3eQQA/s320/IMG_1448.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We hopped in the canoes (probably 10 feet long) and got settled in and Chris's dad and two nephews came out as well. We all hung around close together for a little bit, taking pictures and goofing around. Then Chris and I went one direction and the other two canoes went another direction. Clueless instance #4:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Karen: "Chris, why are we headed in another direction?"&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Chris: "We'll get over there in a minute, don't worry."&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; K: "We're pretty close to the shore...you aren't planning to abandon me, are you?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; C: "Nope."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we keep admiring the view and paddling out (he did &lt;i&gt;way&lt;/i&gt; more paddling than I) and we stop. Clueless instance #5:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; C: "Let's just rest for a minute."&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; K: (&lt;i&gt;pulling out camera and snapping shots&lt;/i&gt;): "Sure! Let's rest! (&lt;i&gt;picture-taking continues)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;C: "Wanna scoot back here for a minute?" (&lt;i&gt;we weren't as close as he anticipated we would be)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBkRe59cJI/AAAAAAAABO0/2G2o1IqtUHc/s1600/IMG_1462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBkRe59cJI/AAAAAAAABO0/2G2o1IqtUHc/s320/IMG_1462.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;I don't know why people trust me with cameras&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I scooted (is that a word?) back and he scooted (scut? I don't know...) forward - into a puddle of water - and we started talking a bit, and he asked, "Do you want to marry me?" to which I answered yes (as I was accustomed to doing), then he told me that he loved me and asked if he could take my ring that I used to wear on my left hand. Then (poor guy) he had to practically lay down in the canoe to get just the ring and asked, "Will you marry me?" to which I answered, "Uh huh...I mean, YES!" Articulate and romantic, right? But he loves me even when I can't answer such an important question in the proper manner. We teased about accidentally dropping it in the lake, but decided that if that had happened, Chris could have used his SCUBA skills to retrieve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBkeJtna7I/AAAAAAAABPE/eVAuqo6KHYw/s1600/IMG_1463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBkeJtna7I/AAAAAAAABPE/eVAuqo6KHYw/s320/IMG_1463.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pardon the lighting, but this is right after&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Afterward, we rowed toward his sis &amp;amp; BIL and they weren't sure he had asked until his sis saw the glint from the sun. We took pictures (which my computer won't allow me to upload) and talked and rowed back to the dock. As we were coming into the dock, all of his family on the shoreline yelled, "Uncle Chris, did she say yes?!?!" When we got to them, his nephews (who didn't actually know until we were on the canoes) wouldn't stop grinning. It was way cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had left my phone in the car, but Chris's dad was kind enough to let me borrow his for a second. I called my mom, who immediately said, "Can I call you back?" I told her no and told her that Chris asked. I called my dad next and his "Woo hoo!!!" was so loud I think people 10 feet away could have heard it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBlaJv0dyI/AAAAAAAABPc/cQWNb0IH6vY/s1600/IMG_1468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBlaJv0dyI/AAAAAAAABPc/cQWNb0IH6vY/s320/IMG_1468.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;I know we're talking, but I just love this shot&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;So that's the actual engagement story. Did you see that I started my clueless instances at 4? I was unaware of the first three until after the fact, but here they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;Clueless Instance #1: I planned on going over to my parents the Saturday before we left to grab some movies from my dad. I was told to meet them at my sister's house and when I didn't cooperate and went to my parents anyway, my mom hopped right in my car as I pulled up to have me run to Home Depot with her. Apparently Chris was on his way to talk to my dad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Clueless Instance #2: Chris was the last to the breakfast table the day he proposed. He sat down next to me and I put my hand on his leg. He says that my hand was right on the ring box (which is why he only had the ring in his pocket on the canoe) and that when I put my hand on it, I looked down and looked right at him. I don't remember this at all.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Clueless Instance #3: When we pulled into the parking lot, Chris's dad had a pair of binoculars and when someone asked why he had them, he said, "If ever there were a day for binoculars, this would be it." I chimed in and said, "Oh yeah! I bet there is a ton of cool wildlife and stuff!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I wouldn't have had it any other way. I am beyond blessed to have Chris in my life and I know those close to me feel the same. In fact, I'm beginning to think my parents love him more than me... Now it's time to plan the next stage of my/our life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBkrtXxWNI/AAAAAAAABPU/bNGuKrOmoF4/s1600/IMG_1479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBkrtXxWNI/AAAAAAAABPU/bNGuKrOmoF4/s200/IMG_1479.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;P.S. The ring!!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-5886404158084167683?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/5886404158084167683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=5886404158084167683&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5886404158084167683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5886404158084167683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/08/engaged-story.html' title='Engaged! The Story'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TGBkHPb_tWI/AAAAAAAABOs/lz4t3Q3eQQA/s72-c/IMG_1448.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-7564564409883734212</id><published>2010-07-30T14:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T14:09:28.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspiration</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise I'll write about Canada when I have more time to sit down  and figure out which of the hundreds of pictures to post. In the  meantime, I've been inspired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First came this thanks to Martha Stewart Weddings:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TFMw5G1XK8I/AAAAAAAABOc/6OvC9MmbR8c/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-07-30+at+1.56.24+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TFMw5G1XK8I/AAAAAAAABOc/6OvC9MmbR8c/s320/Screen+shot+2010-07-30+at+1.56.24+PM.png" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next came this, thanks to the all-mighty Google search engine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TFMw6Apf3gI/AAAAAAAABOk/qx-T1W8cfCU/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-07-30+at+1.57.53+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TFMw6Apf3gI/AAAAAAAABOk/qx-T1W8cfCU/s320/Screen+shot+2010-07-30+at+1.57.53+PM.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Now I have a jumping point. Who's excited?!?!?! Oh right, that's me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-7564564409883734212?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/7564564409883734212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=7564564409883734212&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7564564409883734212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7564564409883734212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/07/inspiration.html' title='Inspiration'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TFMw5G1XK8I/AAAAAAAABOc/6OvC9MmbR8c/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-07-30+at+1.56.24+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-7929916990131456549</id><published>2010-07-24T23:43:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T23:50:14.904-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up - Midway</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;About a month ago, we took a trip up to Midway with my sister and her family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvMMx8TQaI/AAAAAAAABNQ/qwopjsAstMM/s1600/IMG_1252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvMMx8TQaI/AAAAAAAABNQ/qwopjsAstMM/s320/IMG_1252.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;While we ate at The Dairy Keen, Mel and Todd ate the best steak ever at the Bear Dance Cafe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvMqmFDhUI/AAAAAAAABNg/UGD2eBhf6Ok/s1600/IMG_1256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvMqmFDhUI/AAAAAAAABNg/UGD2eBhf6Ok/s320/IMG_1256.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;After dinner, we took the kids to the park. Isn't Abi pretty?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvM38TgfqI/AAAAAAAABNo/RFJM00uIYcc/s1600/IMG_1261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvM38TgfqI/AAAAAAAABNo/RFJM00uIYcc/s320/IMG_1261.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I think Connor was showing us a crocodile in this shot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvNy3QBJhI/AAAAAAAABOI/kh2eT6IXH3A/s1600/IMG_1276.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvNy3QBJhI/AAAAAAAABOI/kh2eT6IXH3A/s320/IMG_1276.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Carly looks just like her Mama in this picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvNSyy7eGI/AAAAAAAABN4/vGVlF-qO0Co/s1600/IMG_1283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvNSyy7eGI/AAAAAAAABN4/vGVlF-qO0Co/s320/IMG_1283.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We were swinging in tandem for a bit, although it's hard to tell here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvNdyVlTOI/AAAAAAAABOA/CivcTCpPq20/s1600/IMG_1291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvNdyVlTOI/AAAAAAAABOA/CivcTCpPq20/s320/IMG_1291.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;And last but not least, Dakota Boone. Isn't this the cutest shot?!?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;This was such a fun weekend. Up next, Canada! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-7929916990131456549?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/7929916990131456549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=7929916990131456549&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7929916990131456549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7929916990131456549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/07/catching-up-midway.html' title='Catching Up - Midway'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TEvMMx8TQaI/AAAAAAAABNQ/qwopjsAstMM/s72-c/IMG_1252.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-187870234529004143</id><published>2010-07-09T10:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T10:48:52.463-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Reading</title><content type='html'>I subscribe to a blog called &lt;a href="http://www.projecthappilyeverafter.com/my-blog/"&gt;Project Happily Ever After&lt;/a&gt;. I subscribed after reading this &lt;a href="http://www.projecthappilyeverafter.com/2009/12/why-i-cursed-out-an-elevator/"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt;, which I've already mentioned on my own blog and still (unfortunately) relate to at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing I love about her blog is how brutally honest she is. Sometimes I think we fear putting negative things out into the world or even acknowledging them in our own lives. I've learned the hard way that sometimes I have to really acknowledge the negative and ugly things in my life to make changes in myself. And I think that's what I appreciate about Alisa. She's willing to put things out there in order to make herself better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the reason for this post. This week, she's been documenting her "Karma Project" and lessons she's learned in a way that I really appreciated and wanted to share. So, if you've got time and want to read a good perspective, head on over and read her most recent posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I'm headed off for a week-long adventure to Canada. The last time I did a roadtrip was in 2006, so wish me luck on the long drive!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-187870234529004143?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/187870234529004143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=187870234529004143&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/187870234529004143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/187870234529004143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/07/good-reading.html' title='Good Reading'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3155797858623839301</id><published>2010-06-29T10:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T10:29:22.082-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Obsessed</title><content type='html'>I want one...how do I get one? I'm obsessed with these little creatures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xEeTEoG1rQY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xEeTEoG1rQY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3155797858623839301?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3155797858623839301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3155797858623839301&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3155797858623839301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3155797858623839301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/06/im-obsessed.html' title='I&apos;m Obsessed'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-5243525479998722454</id><published>2010-06-24T13:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T13:17:52.785-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ken's Dating Tips: Tip # 48</title><content type='html'>Okay, I haven't actually seen Toy Story 3 yet, but I saw this (and a couple of others) and laughed. I figured I could share the wealth with you. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="295" style="background-image: url(&amp;quot;http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/SnFMhr8fNAI/hqdefault.jpg&amp;quot;);" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SnFMhr8fNAI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SnFMhr8fNAI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-5243525479998722454?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/5243525479998722454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=5243525479998722454&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5243525479998722454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5243525479998722454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/06/kens-dating-tips-tip-48.html' title='Ken&apos;s Dating Tips: Tip # 48'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-6144334219054063129</id><published>2010-06-21T10:14:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T11:50:13.799-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Alive</title><content type='html'>I promise I'm still alive. Life has crept up on me and I've been  neglecting you, my loyal reader. Did you miss me? I hope not too much.  Things occupying my time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TB-R3TLseTI/AAAAAAAABMQ/9M6bkv0rnE8/s1600/IMG_0207.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485263250388711730" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TB-R3TLseTI/AAAAAAAABMQ/9M6bkv0rnE8/s400/IMG_0207.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Welcoming my newest nephew to the world. &lt;a href="http://melodyriches.blogspot.com/2010/04/dakota-boone-riches.html"&gt;Dakota Boone Riches&lt;/a&gt; is so cute and the most snuggly of my nieces/nephews. He looks just like his daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TB-R21cBJFI/AAAAAAAABMI/qtzqpVZ2BIw/s1600/roswell_new_mexico_n3b_tshirt-p235317413448625743cfho_400.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485263242404111442" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TB-R21cBJFI/AAAAAAAABMI/qtzqpVZ2BIw/s400/roswell_new_mexico_n3b_tshirt-p235317413448625743cfho_400.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A trip to &lt;a href="http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/09/land-of-enchantment.html"&gt;Roswell&lt;/a&gt;, where I played tourist for the first time in years (to keep the boy (aka Chris) entertained), but did not take a single picture. I'm the worst tourist ever. We did have a wonderful time visiting Lincoln, New Mexico and Carlsbad Caverns. It was a good diversion from thinking about the next ting that's occupied my time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TB-R2Sa3_zI/AAAAAAAABMA/Pvz1_cQl-rw/s1600/arthroscopic_knee_surgery.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485263233004076850" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TB-R2Sa3_zI/AAAAAAAABMA/Pvz1_cQl-rw/s400/arthroscopic_knee_surgery.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pretending to be a nurse while Chris recovered from knee surgery. He's been a fantastic patient and is recovering beautifully, even though he's not back to 100% as soon as he'd like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had something better than this to give you, but I'm loving living my life right now! There are a couple of trips planned for the summer, so hopefully I'll actually take my camera out and you can join in the fun with me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-6144334219054063129?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/6144334219054063129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=6144334219054063129&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6144334219054063129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6144334219054063129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/06/alive.html' title='Alive'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/TB-R3TLseTI/AAAAAAAABMQ/9M6bkv0rnE8/s72-c/IMG_0207.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-7536092309964893624</id><published>2010-04-13T14:17:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T14:51:30.457-06:00</updated><title type='text'>They Say It's MY Birthday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QMvufEegrzg&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QMvufEegrzg&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" 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;To say that I've been spoiled for my birthday this year is an understatement. I have felt loved and blessed and all of the other good adjectives in the world for the past few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started on Saturday with birthday dinner with good friends, continued on Sunday with the family celebration for me and my sis-in-law. That all bled into yesterday, the actual day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first gift that rolled in were these (being shipped) from my sis-in-law and brother/boss:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S8TTifd8G5I/AAAAAAAABL4/ycAXiZgjMno/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-04-13+at+2.25.51+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 355px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S8TTifd8G5I/AAAAAAAABL4/ycAXiZgjMno/s400/Screen+shot+2010-04-13+at+2.25.51+PM.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459721237795969938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then I got home to see this all over my room. Can you see who that is? It's Apolo Ohno. You see, when the Olympics came on this year, I told my roommate about  the slightly embarrassing moment I had of hitting on him, on State  Street during the Olympics held in Salt Lake. It was so dumb, but a  funny memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S8TSObVbKKI/AAAAAAAABLw/zq_aXf6SpaE/s1600/IMG_1223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S8TSObVbKKI/AAAAAAAABLw/zq_aXf6SpaE/s400/IMG_1223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459719793577502882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As I was standing at the vanity, taking everything in, I saw the back of  my bedroom door, which had this lovely poster. Yes, this is my guilty pleasure, known to all who read this. They're just so pretty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S8TSNhFf9kI/AAAAAAAABLo/D6yzU9dg0Eo/s1600/IMG_1226.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S8TSNhFf9kI/AAAAAAAABLo/D6yzU9dg0Eo/s400/IMG_1226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459719777941452354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then, the best part of the night. The boy took me out. We went to dinner and a movie and shopping. Then as he dropped me off, he gave me a final gift of a gift certificate to a spa. He's too nice. Most days I don't think I deserve it. But I'm always grateful for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S8TSM41rkjI/AAAAAAAABLg/S7Q1_GlzMcY/s1600/IMG_1227.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S8TSM41rkjI/AAAAAAAABLg/S7Q1_GlzMcY/s400/IMG_1227.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459719767137686066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Overall, I'd say this was a fantastic birthday! Thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes, it means a lot to me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-7536092309964893624?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/7536092309964893624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=7536092309964893624&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7536092309964893624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7536092309964893624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/04/they-say-its-my-birthday.html' title='They Say It&apos;s MY Birthday!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S8TTifd8G5I/AAAAAAAABL4/ycAXiZgjMno/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-04-13+at+2.25.51+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-6145773417245884604</id><published>2010-04-07T10:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T10:26:38.858-06:00</updated><title type='text'>If Ever...</title><content type='html'>If ever something spoke to my soul, this would be it. I want it so very badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S7yxm0UnxRI/AAAAAAAABLA/TsMpyfzVz4g/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-04-07+at+10.21.40+AM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S7yxm0UnxRI/AAAAAAAABLA/TsMpyfzVz4g/s400/Screen+shot+2010-04-07+at+10.21.40+AM.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457432128904480018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The combination of snark and office supplies might be too much for me to  handle. Find this, and other amusing/handy suppli&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;es &lt;a href="http://www.knockknock.biz/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-6145773417245884604?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/6145773417245884604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=6145773417245884604&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6145773417245884604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6145773417245884604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/04/if-ever.html' title='If Ever...'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S7yxm0UnxRI/AAAAAAAABLA/TsMpyfzVz4g/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-04-07+at+10.21.40+AM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-1009278739925393944</id><published>2010-03-24T13:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T13:53:18.105-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Clarity</title><content type='html'>Do you ever have moments when you can clearly see the Lord directing your life? I've had a few of those lately. It's good to know that everything that's happened in my life in the past year or so has led me to such a comfortable, peaceful place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-1009278739925393944?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/1009278739925393944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=1009278739925393944&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1009278739925393944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1009278739925393944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/03/clarity.html' title='Clarity'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3950444453445359915</id><published>2010-03-05T14:51:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T14:58:51.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Window Internet Shopping</title><content type='html'>First things first, is that the proper terminology?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boredom at work took me to Express. Lo and behold, this goodie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S5F9Csb7CUI/AAAAAAAABK0/A1TjtoXIKUU/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2010-03-05+at+2.51.28+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 344px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S5F9Csb7CUI/AAAAAAAABK0/A1TjtoXIKUU/s400/Screen+shot+2010-03-05+at+2.51.28+PM.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445270909709125954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Where's a DeLorean so I can travel back to 1990 and save so many similar skirts from my 8-year old wardrobe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, do you think I could be taken seriously in it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3950444453445359915?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3950444453445359915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3950444453445359915&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3950444453445359915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3950444453445359915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/03/window-internet-shopping.html' title='Window Internet Shopping'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S5F9Csb7CUI/AAAAAAAABK0/A1TjtoXIKUU/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-03-05+at+2.51.28+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-4978938148162075570</id><published>2010-02-10T16:36:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T16:38:49.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Pre-Valentine's Valentine</title><content type='html'>Reason #362 that I love my roommate:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S3NDMbg59pI/AAAAAAAABKQ/FPEvtyeNyj4/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2010-02-10+at+4.36.36+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S3NDMbg59pI/AAAAAAAABKQ/FPEvtyeNyj4/s400/Screen+shot+2010-02-10+at+4.36.36+PM.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436763055989585554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-4978938148162075570?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/4978938148162075570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=4978938148162075570&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4978938148162075570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4978938148162075570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/02/pre-valentines-valentine.html' title='A Pre-Valentine&apos;s Valentine'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/S3NDMbg59pI/AAAAAAAABKQ/FPEvtyeNyj4/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-02-10+at+4.36.36+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-6052505783359990831</id><published>2010-02-01T10:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T10:25:51.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah, Michael...You're Great</title><content type='html'>Not that &lt;a href="http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/09/happiness-is.html"&gt;I'm&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-so-close.html"&gt;obsessed&lt;/a&gt;, but look who was on SNL this week. I just love me some Michale Buble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="512" height="296"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/Xh4Hdnfz-r4pKIXbcbs-Ig"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/Xh4Hdnfz-r4pKIXbcbs-Ig" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowFullScreen="true"  width="512" height="296"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-6052505783359990831?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/6052505783359990831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=6052505783359990831&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6052505783359990831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6052505783359990831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/02/ah-michaelyoure-great.html' title='Ah, Michael...You&apos;re Great'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-1244900672230788987</id><published>2010-01-06T13:29:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T13:32:41.372-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Because There's Nothing Better...</title><content type='html'>...than getting &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=rick+rolled"&gt;"Rick-rolled"&lt;/a&gt; in an elevator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="296" width="512"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/AGxEaHJh5FUWMH86yPUWuA/1071/1096"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/AGxEaHJh5FUWMH86yPUWuA/1071/1096" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="296" width="512"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. If you aren't watching Better Off Ted, you are missing some of the wittiest dialogue on TV.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-1244900672230788987?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/1244900672230788987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=1244900672230788987&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1244900672230788987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1244900672230788987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2010/01/because-theres-nothing-better.html' title='Because There&apos;s Nothing Better...'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-5009267868994816619</id><published>2009-12-29T15:13:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T15:25:15.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Women Are Crazy, Men Are Stupid</title><content type='html'>I just finished reading a book called "Women Are Crazy, Men Are Stupid: The Simple Truth to a Complicated Relationship". It's written by a couple that have been together for several years and I really enjoy their humor. It's written in pieces of their relationships shown from each of their perspectives. In the last chapter, this is what the man had to say (sorry it's a little long):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the divine madness of women. They choose to love us. From that very first moment on the playground when we shove them in the mud puddle, they look up at us and think, "This is the guy for me!" It just gets worse from there but they only become more steadfast in their determination to love us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As grown men we say we "purple" them because we're too lame to say the word we really mean. We cross a crowded room to sit next to them only because they're sitting near the nonpareils. We say the stupidest possible things and the stupidest possible moments - like in bed after sex. We don't understand anything they like and tell them they're crazy for liking it. And we're always raging against the dying of the light - or when someone's in our parking space. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We try to have their cars towed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they love us still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm crazy for trying, and crazy for crying and I'm crazy for loving you." Patsy Cline might have sung it, but Willie Nelson wrote it - a man so stupid, it should be noted, he didn't know he had to pay taxes - but Willie knew exactly what he was really telling all the girls he'd loved before: Of course you're crazy. You would have to be crazy to love us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They see what's in us and they love us anyway. We see only what's in front of us. And often we miss even that. If you did a love/benefit analysis on the average relationship, you'd find that we benefit and they end up in analysis. And it's not like they didn't know it going in. Everyone warned them: "You're crazy for loving that guy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're all that guy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-5009267868994816619?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/5009267868994816619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=5009267868994816619&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5009267868994816619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5009267868994816619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/12/women-are-crazy-men-are-stupid.html' title='Women Are Crazy, Men Are Stupid'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-293476071432204895</id><published>2009-12-25T20:52:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T20:58:42.924-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>I hope everyone's had a very Merry Christmas! After spending good, quality time with my family, I decided to spend my evening with these two movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SzWJYj78smI/AAAAAAAABJs/VMx93ujsaWk/s1600-h/pride_and_prejudice_-_kissing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SzWJYj78smI/AAAAAAAABJs/VMx93ujsaWk/s400/pride_and_prejudice_-_kissing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419388781666808418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SzWJYSv6XpI/AAAAAAAABJk/TuWAyEh8bxU/s1600-h/affair2_dvd_0124.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 235px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SzWJYSv6XpI/AAAAAAAABJk/TuWAyEh8bxU/s400/affair2_dvd_0124.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419388777052921490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Can you imagine a better way to spend a Christmas evening all by yourself? I can't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also can't count how many times I've sighed throughout the night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-293476071432204895?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/293476071432204895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=293476071432204895&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/293476071432204895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/293476071432204895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SzWJYj78smI/AAAAAAAABJs/VMx93ujsaWk/s72-c/pride_and_prejudice_-_kissing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2710392734692735433</id><published>2009-12-21T23:16:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T23:19:22.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If You've Got 5ish Minutes...</title><content type='html'>If you need a laugh. If you need to know you're not the only one to have PMS bring out the crazy in you. Read &lt;a href="http://www.projecthappilyeverafter.com/2009/12/why-i-cursed-out-an-elevator/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. Giggle along since you've probably either had moments/days/weeks similar to this or have had to deal with someone's moments/days/weeks like this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2710392734692735433?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2710392734692735433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2710392734692735433&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2710392734692735433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2710392734692735433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/12/if-youve-got-5ish-minutes.html' title='If You&apos;ve Got 5ish Minutes...'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-5937429058537105770</id><published>2009-12-15T22:03:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T22:07:30.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Here's your random insight into my life today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; As I was folding my laundry today, mostly pants, I kept looking at these things and thinking, "No &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;way&lt;/span&gt; is my butt that small!" Now, I know there is lycra or spandex that helps these pants to expand to fit, well, everything. But I feel like there's a lot of everything to fit.  However this happens, it's a modern miracle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-5937429058537105770?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/5937429058537105770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=5937429058537105770&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5937429058537105770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5937429058537105770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/12/thoughts.html' title='Thoughts'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-4724328117384770354</id><published>2009-12-14T12:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T12:16:58.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Debate Continues...</title><content type='html'>Maybe I've got a simple sense of humor, but this was way too funny...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widgets.nbc.com/o/4727a250e66f9723/4b268d75093e260d/4741e3c5156499a7/7d87464b/-cpid/97055b24c9f5acb7" id="W4727a250e66f97234b268d75093e260d" width="384" height="283"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://widgets.nbc.com/o/4727a250e66f9723/4b268d75093e260d/4741e3c5156499a7/7d87464b/-cpid/97055b24c9f5acb7" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowNetworking" value="all" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I totally love that he's wearing a mini-skirt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-4724328117384770354?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/4724328117384770354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=4724328117384770354&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4724328117384770354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4724328117384770354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/12/debate-continues.html' title='The Debate Continues...'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-8840162089713848713</id><published>2009-12-10T11:02:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T11:04:57.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Really Good</title><content type='html'>I subscribe to this blog called The Simple Marriage Project. While I'm not married, it's been incredibly enlightening and has caused me to think about ways to improve myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read &lt;a href="http://www.simplemarriage.net/expectations-the-path-to-an-unhappy-marriage.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt; today and really enjoyed it, so I thought I would share it with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-8840162089713848713?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/8840162089713848713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=8840162089713848713&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8840162089713848713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8840162089713848713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/12/really-good.html' title='Really Good'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-7412593114178178902</id><published>2009-11-24T13:54:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T13:57:42.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Muppets Rock (Literally)</title><content type='html'>Happy Tuesday! Enjoy a little Muppet music video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tgbNymZ7vqY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tgbNymZ7vqY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" 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/4256482452589545204-7412593114178178902?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/7412593114178178902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=7412593114178178902&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7412593114178178902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7412593114178178902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/11/muppets-rock-literally.html' title='The Muppets Rock (Literally)'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-8986327293577132183</id><published>2009-11-21T21:58:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T22:10:45.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Lesson on Joy</title><content type='html'>Last week, my mom invited me to attend an art exhibit her friend, &lt;a href="http://www.jochecketts.com/"&gt;Jo Checketts&lt;/a&gt;, was having at her house this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After seeing this woman's work (and knowing about her life), I am so glad I went. If you haven't clicked through to her website already (which I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;highly&lt;/span&gt; recommend), a little background: she has traveled all over the world (with just her backpack and tent), and really engulfs herself in different cultures and tribes. It was so fascinating hearing her tell about the people she's met and all that she has learned from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was so touched by the life her photographs take on, that I had to buy one for myself:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SwjFjjIzvXI/AAAAAAAABI8/l5queL1hBaM/s1600/Screen+shot+2009-11-21+at+9.58.08+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 399px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SwjFjjIzvXI/AAAAAAAABI8/l5queL1hBaM/s400/Screen+shot+2009-11-21+at+9.58.08+PM.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406788567176559986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;I hope she doesn't mind that I borrowed it from her website.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom told me a little about her life and although I don't feel it is mine to share, I will say she has had some bumps in her road that most people wouldn't come back from. But you would never know it by talking to her. She has a lust for life and is living hers to the fullest. I walked out admiring her. Truth be told, I'm a little envious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-8986327293577132183?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/8986327293577132183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=8986327293577132183&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8986327293577132183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8986327293577132183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/11/lesson-on-joy.html' title='A Lesson on Joy'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SwjFjjIzvXI/AAAAAAAABI8/l5queL1hBaM/s72-c/Screen+shot+2009-11-21+at+9.58.08+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-1036246242427786425</id><published>2009-11-09T21:12:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T21:18:40.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Real or Fake?</title><content type='html'>Is it just me, or do the models for &lt;a href="http://www.brooksbrothers.com/BB_OutfitLanding.process?viewAll=t&amp;amp;Parent_Id=423&amp;amp;CMP=BAC-ZB8931376375"&gt;Brooks Brothers&lt;/a&gt; look like Ken dolls?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SvjoUpP2GzI/AAAAAAAABI0/yOHTw6p5Jdk/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2009-11-09+at+9.12.19+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 325px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SvjoUpP2GzI/AAAAAAAABI0/yOHTw6p5Jdk/s400/Screen+shot+2009-11-09+at+9.12.19+PM.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402323194398251826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Even after zooming in, I can't be sure. They're handsome Ken dolls, if that's what they were supposed to be. Gotta love a well-dressed man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Cool thing about Brooks Brothers website? They teach you how to tie several different &lt;a href="http://www.brooksbrothers.com/tieknots/tieknots.tem"&gt;tie knots&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-1036246242427786425?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/1036246242427786425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=1036246242427786425&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1036246242427786425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1036246242427786425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/11/real-or-fake.html' title='Real or Fake?'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SvjoUpP2GzI/AAAAAAAABI0/yOHTw6p5Jdk/s72-c/Screen+shot+2009-11-09+at+9.12.19+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-5642610268463711885</id><published>2009-10-16T19:38:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T19:39:20.444-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Know What's Rough?</title><content type='html'>Having a totally hot, date-worthy outfit, but not having someone to take you out on a date. We'll see if I can work on that tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-5642610268463711885?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/5642610268463711885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=5642610268463711885&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5642610268463711885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5642610268463711885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/10/know-whats-rough.html' title='Know What&apos;s Rough?'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-6465128453954384708</id><published>2009-10-13T18:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T18:13:26.428-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Familiar</title><content type='html'>I came across a little video today and as I was watching, I couldn't help but feel that the dancing was eerily familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8kry53iHR7w&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8kry53iHR7w&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was never a dull moment in my household with my dad there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-6465128453954384708?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/6465128453954384708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=6465128453954384708&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6465128453954384708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6465128453954384708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-came-across-little-video-today-and-as.html' title='Familiar'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-818865239540743089</id><published>2009-10-06T14:07:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T14:11:43.803-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's So Close!</title><content type='html'>Remember &lt;a href="http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/09/happiness-is.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;? Well, there are mere days until I get to hear this man's beautiful voice singing new songs to me once again. Ahh...Friday can't come soon enough.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Ssuj2glyP7I/AAAAAAAABIs/7yy7qelDsJw/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2009-10-06+at+2.06.49+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 344px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Ssuj2glyP7I/AAAAAAAABIs/7yy7qelDsJw/s400/Screen+shot+2009-10-06+at+2.06.49+PM.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389581535935610802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-818865239540743089?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/818865239540743089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=818865239540743089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/818865239540743089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/818865239540743089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-so-close.html' title='It&apos;s So Close!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Ssuj2glyP7I/AAAAAAAABIs/7yy7qelDsJw/s72-c/Screen+shot+2009-10-06+at+2.06.49+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-4828693599524307328</id><published>2009-09-24T12:30:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T13:22:16.773-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Land of Enchantment</title><content type='html'>I went with my mom on her annual visit to my grandparents in Roswell, New Mexico a couple of weeks ago. Roswell is always a great getaway for me and there are several things that make my visits complete:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9CZ4-GvI/AAAAAAAABG8/byCILf5_TtM/s1600-h/IMG_1086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9CZ4-GvI/AAAAAAAABG8/byCILf5_TtM/s320/IMG_1086.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385105628458785522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's my cute mom making her homemade salsa with tomatoes out of my grandpa's garden. Best part of the salsa? My brother wasn't there to hog it all!!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9DJWOSJI/AAAAAAAABHE/Xql3wa4FUSw/s1600-h/IMG_1087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9DJWOSJI/AAAAAAAABHE/Xql3wa4FUSw/s320/IMG_1087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385105641197947026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;La Poblanita chips. They are the best chips ever and went quite well with the salsa.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9Dg5P9QI/AAAAAAAABHM/Xi2VjCTNYTo/s1600-h/IMG_1088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9Dg5P9QI/AAAAAAAABHM/Xi2VjCTNYTo/s320/IMG_1088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385105647518872834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Lucille Moody, one of my grandma's friends. We've always called her "Crazy Lucille" but as I've gotten older, I see she isn't necessarily crazy, just eccentric with an off-beat sense of humor. My first memory of Lucille is when I was five. We were visiting for Easter and she gave me and my sister white ostrich leather purses. Lucille is selling her house and moving in with her daughter in Washington D.C.. I'm a little sad that she will most likely not be there the next time I visit, but I suppose that it's a good thing, seeing as how she's 94 (!!) years old...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9Ef--E8I/AAAAAAAABHU/3Kw2vDJIhxU/s1600-h/IMG_1092.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9Ef--E8I/AAAAAAAABHU/3Kw2vDJIhxU/s320/IMG_1092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385105664454300610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Authentic Mexican food!!! Ah, there's nothing like getting the good stuff, is there? The red sauce on my enchilada was by far the hottest I've ever had. If I had had a cold at the time, my congestion would have been gone within 30 seconds of taking a bite. It was incredible. Our waiter, Manuel, was pretty great too. He's the type that I would give a little bit of an extra tip to, all because he was so entertaining. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9dPa6e3I/AAAAAAAABHc/4crJ7ap2T90/s1600-h/IMG_1109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9dPa6e3I/AAAAAAAABHc/4crJ7ap2T90/s320/IMG_1109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385106089504832370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A visit to Roswell isn't complete without an alien sighting, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't hit the &lt;a href="http://www.roswellufomuseum.com/"&gt;International UFO Museum&lt;/a&gt; this time, but we did hit the Roswell Museum &amp;amp; Art Center where I saw may interesting pieces:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru-KvELDfI/AAAAAAAABHk/fIrhIUEk4gc/s1600-h/IMG_1096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 126px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru-KvELDfI/AAAAAAAABHk/fIrhIUEk4gc/s200/IMG_1096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385106871093497330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru-MK8Dq0I/AAAAAAAABH8/TUKFzYQXKg8/s1600-h/IMG_1106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 126px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru-MK8Dq0I/AAAAAAAABH8/TUKFzYQXKg8/s200/IMG_1106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385106895755520834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru-Log4gdI/AAAAAAAABH0/0wMYSsYlRLQ/s1600-h/IMG_1105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 126px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru-Log4gdI/AAAAAAAABH0/0wMYSsYlRLQ/s200/IMG_1105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385106886514737618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru-LKJLdMI/AAAAAAAABHs/YmuaN0dlc80/s1600-h/IMG_1103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 126px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru-LKJLdMI/AAAAAAAABHs/YmuaN0dlc80/s200/IMG_1103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385106878362252482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clockwise: Really cool stirrups, "Chimera" (or super freaky), "Death Cart", and an alien face on the piece called "Sheep Train"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SrvBljsSexI/AAAAAAAABIM/-FaG_WWR9M0/s1600-h/IMG_1093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SrvBljsSexI/AAAAAAAABIM/-FaG_WWR9M0/s320/IMG_1093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385110630431882002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This little tidbit was probably the best part though. These sculptures were done by a man named Rogers Aston. He and his family donated most of the western cultural items in the museum. He was also my grandpa's employer for several years in the oil industry. He made my grandpa a bolo tie of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cochise"&gt;Cochise&lt;/a&gt;, an old west Indian (which you can see in the picture below).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru-oLChTZI/AAAAAAAABIE/yQPKo2rKVNQ/s1600-h/IMG_1118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru-oLChTZI/AAAAAAAABIE/yQPKo2rKVNQ/s320/IMG_1118.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385107376818965906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But these two. These were by far the best part of my entire visit. It is so nice to go someplace where you feel loved and valued and important. My grandparents always make me feel like I am worth something and it's the best self-esteem boost a girl could ask for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom tried to apologize that this probably wasn't the most exotic trip I have been on. She's right, it wasn't exotic, but it was far better than any cruise or beach vacation could be. We took turns asking my grandparents questions about their families and childhood memories and it was so interesting to me. I won't go into the details of all that I learned, but I certainly realized how my grandparents became the incredible, accepting, loving, helpful people they are today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are both 87 and had just celebrated their 63rd anniversary when we arrived. Even though they're getting on in age (and have to yell in order to hear each other), I'm so grateful the Lord has blessed them with good health. My grandpa still goes in to work at the oil company every day. My grandma still serves everyone she can in any capacity she can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are definitely leaving a legacy to live up to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-4828693599524307328?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/4828693599524307328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=4828693599524307328&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4828693599524307328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4828693599524307328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/09/land-of-enchantment.html' title='The Land of Enchantment'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sru9CZ4-GvI/AAAAAAAABG8/byCILf5_TtM/s72-c/IMG_1086.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3001815140628991160</id><published>2009-09-24T11:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T12:05:19.544-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Does Life Get Any Better?</title><content type='html'>Two of my &lt;a href="http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/best-night-of-my-life.html"&gt;favorite&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2008/07/pure-cheese.html"&gt;things&lt;/a&gt; will be combined this Friday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.twitvid.com/player/D738D"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.twitvid.com/player/D738D" quality="high" allowscriptaccess="always" allowNetworking="all" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is fantastic! Life is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3001815140628991160?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3001815140628991160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3001815140628991160&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3001815140628991160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3001815140628991160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/09/does-life-get-any-better.html' title='Does Life Get Any Better?'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2536608242317035454</id><published>2009-09-06T01:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T01:35:57.035-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Times Like This</title><content type='html'>That I wish it were winter. Then I could go soak in a relaxing bath and perhaps clear my head so I could sleep. As it is, I would probably melt due to all of the heat. So I will just dream of the days when a hot bath will not constitute a death wish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2536608242317035454?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2536608242317035454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2536608242317035454&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2536608242317035454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2536608242317035454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-times-like-this.html' title='It&apos;s Times Like This'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3962527426434267867</id><published>2009-09-01T09:30:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T09:35:04.326-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness is...</title><content type='html'>...not a warm gun. Sorry, Beatles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not on a day like today. Not when I find out this man has a new single out (which means a new album is forthcoming)!!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sp0-XwB8yTI/AAAAAAAABFw/A0AgaxBfEHc/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2009-09-01+at+9.29.47+AM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 346px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sp0-XwB8yTI/AAAAAAAABFw/A0AgaxBfEHc/s400/Screen+shot+2009-09-01+at+9.29.47+AM.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376522107901233458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Color me a happy woman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3962527426434267867?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3962527426434267867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3962527426434267867&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3962527426434267867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3962527426434267867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/09/happiness-is.html' title='Happiness is...'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sp0-XwB8yTI/AAAAAAAABFw/A0AgaxBfEHc/s72-c/Screen+shot+2009-09-01+at+9.29.47+AM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-7782285807773828795</id><published>2009-08-25T18:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T18:49:39.589-06:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Need to Smile</title><content type='html'>Just watch this little video:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2seAJsrtIbQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2seAJsrtIbQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This movie is by far one of the cutest, most relatable movies I've seen this year. I liked it so much, I've already seen it twice in theaters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-7782285807773828795?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/7782285807773828795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=7782285807773828795&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7782285807773828795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7782285807773828795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/08/if-you-need-to-smile.html' title='If You Need to Smile'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-4068301180554743345</id><published>2009-08-19T16:03:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T16:12:09.836-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Heaven</title><content type='html'>Today, as I was paying for my Diet Coke and peanut M&amp;amp;Ms, this guy sidled up behind me in line and whispered, "I think I just died and went to heaven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a possibility this could have been a flattering situation. But heaven would have to wait for another day. I turned around and this guy was shirtless with his boxers hanging out of his sagging jeans and buying a 6-pack of Coors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad. I was really hoping to find love at the 7-Eleven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-4068301180554743345?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/4068301180554743345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=4068301180554743345&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4068301180554743345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4068301180554743345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/08/heaven.html' title='Heaven'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-213646157616997251</id><published>2009-08-12T20:42:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T20:58:42.591-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hindsight</title><content type='html'>The other day I was talking to my sister about dating and life and boys, etc. and she asked about a guy I dated several years ago and told me how much her husband liked him and how he had hoped we would work out. I was surprised because when I think back on the person I was back then and the person I am now, I don't know how it could have ever worked out happily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often play the "what if...?" game when it comes to guys I've dated. I wonder what things could have been like had me and whomever I'm thinking of had been perfect for each other. The beauty of all of this is hindsight. This always takes me out of playing silly mind games because I can see everything from a different perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out with two guys within a couple of weeks of each other and both asked me why I'm not married. The first time, I had to think for a moment. I think I shocked him when I told him that I wouldn't have made a good wife or partner to anyone I could have potentially married. This is so true. I look back at these opportunities and had I married any of these men, I would have made them miserable. I can't say that I'm totally prepared for marriage now, but I know I wasn't ready back then. I would have been selfish and mean and inconsiderate and so many other things that would do nothing but make someone else loathe me instead of love - heck, even like - me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to the guy my bro-in-law still thinks about - consider yourself lucky! You dodged a bullet when I ended things in a horribly rude fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the future Mr. Fantastic - I'm working on it! And you'll be lucky because of all of the growth I've been able to experience by not marrying any other potential candidates.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-213646157616997251?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/213646157616997251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=213646157616997251&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/213646157616997251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/213646157616997251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/08/hindsight.html' title='Hindsight'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3498452629084414069</id><published>2009-08-06T22:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T22:52:20.888-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bruising</title><content type='html'>Some people get bruises from really cool things like mountain biking or rock climbing. I get bruises from falling off of a dumpster. Cool? No. Funny? Abso-friggin'-lutely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3498452629084414069?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3498452629084414069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3498452629084414069&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3498452629084414069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3498452629084414069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/08/bruising.html' title='Bruising'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-6694101929493353852</id><published>2009-08-05T23:49:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T00:01:06.654-06:00</updated><title type='text'>An Exercise in...Something</title><content type='html'>I just realized something. Perhaps a self-fulfilling prophecy. Last year, when my boss left to serve as a mission president, I told myself (and others) that I doubted I would last at my job until this June. This turned out to be correct. Which then made me curious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the name of science (because I am a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;huge&lt;/span&gt; fan of science, right?), here's an exercise to see if there truly are self-fulfilling prophecies in my life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will meet a man who will enjoy my company and want to go on not only a first, but a second (and perhaps third) date with me because gosh darnit, I'm pretty freakin' awesome!  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And have "out of a magazine" hair according to my sis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now cross your fingers that it doesn't take 10 months for this one to come to fruition. Let's say, maybe two or three months max. Whaddya think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SnpwKvFhLiI/AAAAAAAABFE/M8LxKrwsPqM/s1600-h/fingers-crossed_sxc-776014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SnpwKvFhLiI/AAAAAAAABFE/M8LxKrwsPqM/s200/fingers-crossed_sxc-776014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366725235705982498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-6694101929493353852?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/6694101929493353852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=6694101929493353852&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6694101929493353852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6694101929493353852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/08/exercise-insomething.html' title='An Exercise in...Something'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SnpwKvFhLiI/AAAAAAAABFE/M8LxKrwsPqM/s72-c/fingers-crossed_sxc-776014.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2628837501386598821</id><published>2009-08-04T18:40:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T18:44:37.695-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Difference of a Positive Attitude</title><content type='html'>I wish I would have recorded my roommate talking to me at about a million words per minute today for you to hear. Telling me how awesome she is and how much she loves her life and how great things are. It's infectious. And now I'm smiling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2628837501386598821?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2628837501386598821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2628837501386598821&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2628837501386598821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2628837501386598821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/08/difference-of-positive-attitude.html' title='The Difference of a Positive Attitude'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3885783763316366677</id><published>2009-07-16T21:05:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T21:09:10.007-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have a Girl Crush...</title><content type='html'>...on this woman. Isn't she stunning? I think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_q0iX8LuI/AAAAAAAABE8/oQ7eB7DiEec/s1600-h/052209_szhor_300X400%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_q0iX8LuI/AAAAAAAABE8/oQ7eB7DiEec/s320/052209_szhor_300X400%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359260269895495394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3885783763316366677?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3885783763316366677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3885783763316366677&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3885783763316366677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3885783763316366677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-have-girl-crush.html' title='I Have a Girl Crush...'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_q0iX8LuI/AAAAAAAABE8/oQ7eB7DiEec/s72-c/052209_szhor_300X400%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2881747909136102481</id><published>2009-07-16T18:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T19:56:26.567-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoa</title><content type='html'>I was doing some organizing in my closet today and ran across a roll of undeveloped film. I couldn't figure out what would be on it since I haven't had a film camera in several years, so I took it to be developed. "Whoa" is all I had to say. Now, keep in mind that this roll of film has been sitting for a good 11-12 years, so the quality is really crappy, but they sure took me back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_C774vG4I/AAAAAAAABE0/FBxe6HuTmTc/s1600-h/FH000008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_C774vG4I/AAAAAAAABE0/FBxe6HuTmTc/s320/FH000008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359216416537910146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Seated in this picture are Jason Lang and Mike Hanks. Now even though my good friend Tonya dated Mike, I still thought he was really really cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_C7rci1hI/AAAAAAAABEs/9j4FZbwyP-U/s1600-h/FH000010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_C7rci1hI/AAAAAAAABEs/9j4FZbwyP-U/s320/FH000010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359216412124698130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is a very ugly picture of me. You know how most kids have an awkward looking phase that usually last 1-2 years? I'm convinced mine lasted from ages 14-19.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_C7dC0AaI/AAAAAAAABEk/6wx6DvTz4aU/s1600-h/FH000009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_C7dC0AaI/AAAAAAAABEk/6wx6DvTz4aU/s320/FH000009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359216408258675106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is where the "whoa" comes in. When I saw the tiny little proof, I knew this picture was Jenny, but that's all I could see. I also knew that Jenny wasn't the type to go around kissing anyone, so I was shocked. Imagine my shock when I found out that it was ANOTHER GIRL in this picture. Yowsa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_C7NclRZI/AAAAAAAABEc/oKWKjkH9SCI/s1600-h/FH000003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_C7NclRZI/AAAAAAAABEc/oKWKjkH9SCI/s320/FH000003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359216404071794066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And good ol' Tonya and Marin. Look at how cute these two softballers are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I just put these out for the world to see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2881747909136102481?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2881747909136102481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2881747909136102481&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2881747909136102481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2881747909136102481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/07/whoa.html' title='Whoa'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sl_C774vG4I/AAAAAAAABE0/FBxe6HuTmTc/s72-c/FH000008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-7469305332892717606</id><published>2009-07-07T17:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T08:08:52.388-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Comparison</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://kimhasthoughts.blogspot.com"&gt;Kim&lt;/a&gt; sat me down one day to show me something. You see, she's always making fun of me when I get excited and so she wanted to show me who I sound like...&lt;a href="http://www.hulu.com/watch/3525/saturday-night-live-the-gap"&gt;Alec Baldwin&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right. I sound like a man. Sad part? I totally agree with her. What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-7469305332892717606?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/7469305332892717606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=7469305332892717606&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7469305332892717606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7469305332892717606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/07/comparison.html' title='A Comparison'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-8235615934730087257</id><published>2009-07-05T23:24:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T23:35:25.645-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Overexposed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here's the deal. Two things have led to my being overexposed to this man:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SlGLz5sZQQI/AAAAAAAABEU/nQrWf2TajGA/s1600-h/400px-David_Boreanaz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SlGLz5sZQQI/AAAAAAAABEU/nQrWf2TajGA/s200/400px-David_Boreanaz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355215155696845058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;1) My roommate records reruns of Bones. I started turning them on as background noise when I was cooking dinner for myself. Turns out I really like it. Now I'm hooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Since the whole digital TV switch, I no longer have TV in my room. I didn't want to spend any extra money having cable installed in my room so I could watch the news as I get ready. Instead I have been spending my mornings (and subsequently, some evenings) with Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's just so darn charming. And he gets this twinkle in his eye. Swoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as far as broody, hot, vampires with a soul go, let's be honest - he wins the competition hands down. Don't you agree?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SlGLZTPTUvI/AAAAAAAABD8/-z0sV0dvoPg/s1600-h/david-boreanaz-angel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SlGLZTPTUvI/AAAAAAAABD8/-z0sV0dvoPg/s200/david-boreanaz-angel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355214698697675506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SlGLZs_TXRI/AAAAAAAABEE/isrdyW-cqnE/s1600-h/Edward+Cullen.jpg"&gt;  &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SlGLZs_TXRI/AAAAAAAABEE/isrdyW-cqnE/s200/Edward+Cullen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355214705609891090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-8235615934730087257?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/8235615934730087257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=8235615934730087257&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8235615934730087257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8235615934730087257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/07/overexposed.html' title='Overexposed'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SlGLz5sZQQI/AAAAAAAABEU/nQrWf2TajGA/s72-c/400px-David_Boreanaz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-6618410363004977822</id><published>2009-06-23T11:27:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T12:01:51.349-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stake Dance Memories</title><content type='html'>Last night, my roommate and I were in the car and all of the songs on my presets were just no good, so I switched over to the oldies station. It was playing "Hard to Say I'm Sorry" by Chicago. Please tell me that is NOT an oldie! It can't be because then it will mean that I might be getting older. Anyway, Kim mentioned that it reminded her of stake dances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, stake dances. Those were the days. I loved getting "dressed up" and hoping that one cute boy would notice me walking his direction at the beginning of the two-set slow song. Or avoiding eye contact with the boy I really didn't want to ask me to dance. Especially during "Forever Young" or "With or Without You" because that would mean at least 5 minutes of awkwardly rocking back and forth, keeping tension in your arms so he wouldn't try to pull you closer into the "bear hug" slow dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days I miss the giddy anticipation of those nights. Slyly glancing at the boys while attempting to stay cool and collected. Being heartbroken when the boy I thought I was meant to be with forever didn't even ask me to dance but feeling completely fantastic when the next boy I was meant to be with let me get really close while dancing. You know, less than "Book of Mormon space" close. Doing the Electric Slide or Boot Scootin' Boogie without any cares. Yeah, life was good back then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of our favorite slow dance songs discussed last night were:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The aforementioned "Forever Young" by Alphaville and "With or Without You" by U2&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;"Because You Loved Me" by Celine Dion&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;"Lady In Red" by Chris De Burgh (especially the whispered "I love you" at the end, because you knew it just had to mean something when the right boy asked you to dance with him to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this song&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;"Uninvited" by Alanis Morrissette&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;"Truly Madly Deeply" by Savage Garden&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I thought of one other today - "You Are So Beautiful To Me" by Joe Cocker. I remember at one dance the boy I really liked at that moment not only asked me to dance, but also SANG to me. That's right. It was love. For like, a second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is our list missing anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I think we really must have had dancing on the brain last night, because as the dishes were being done (thanks, Liz!), an impromptu dance party happened in the kitchen. Complete with the "white person clap". Yup. We're good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-6618410363004977822?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/6618410363004977822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=6618410363004977822&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6618410363004977822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6618410363004977822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/06/stake-dance-memories.html' title='Stake Dance Memories'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2586032009221393781</id><published>2009-06-17T11:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T11:05:12.489-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Dare You to Watch This...</title><content type='html'>...and not get it stuck in your head. My roommates probably hate me for making them watch this commercial. Totally makes me giggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/INwtruT5Z6o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/INwtruT5Z6o&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2586032009221393781?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2586032009221393781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2586032009221393781&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2586032009221393781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2586032009221393781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-dare-you-to-watch-this.html' title='I Dare You to Watch This...'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-5414125297970540521</id><published>2009-06-12T10:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T10:57:25.848-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons I Love My Mother</title><content type='html'>My mom is great. Sometimes she completely surprises me with the things she says. Like the time she told me she'd always wanted a tattoo. And it wasn't just that she wanted a tattoo, it was the thought that went into it! She knew the design and placement of this tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I saw this video the other day and sent it to my mom. When I was young, my mom would drop me off at the rec center day care and go Jazzercise. So in my email I asked if this is what she looked like and if she'd do it again sometime. The picture in my head is quite funny, I was hoping I could see if reality was just as good. My mom's response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you KIDDIN' me?  These gals are OK, but our choreography was far more complex and our costumes way cooler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(BTW - consider yourself lucky that you can't recall such details)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is why I love my mother (amongst other things). So, if you know my mom, just imagine her doing these moves. Maybe it'll make your day too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VGOO8ZhWFR4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VGOO8ZhWFR4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&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/4256482452589545204-5414125297970540521?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/5414125297970540521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=5414125297970540521&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5414125297970540521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5414125297970540521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/06/reasons-i-love-my-mother.html' title='Reasons I Love My Mother'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-1575625132026196677</id><published>2009-06-09T11:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T12:16:48.285-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dedicated to Kim</title><content type='html'>&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widgets.nbc.com/o/4727a250e66f9723/4a2e9ba6bdfb6ee1/4a2dee94e79a76e7/397a83ab/-cpid/b78f76129d11cd" id="W4727a250e66f97234a2e9ba6bdfb6ee1" height="283" width="384"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://widgets.nbc.com/o/4727a250e66f9723/4a2e9ba6bdfb6ee1/4a2dee94e79a76e7/397a83ab/-cpid/b78f76129d11cd"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;param name="allowNetworking" value="all"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. &lt;a href="http://kimhasthoughts.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kim&lt;/a&gt; knows all the words to the song. She'll sing it for you if you ask nicely. Or find her a good man. Preferably someone I would label "beefy". If you would like to know more about my definition, or think you have someone in mind, please hit me up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-1575625132026196677?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/1575625132026196677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=1575625132026196677&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1575625132026196677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1575625132026196677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/06/dedicated-to-kim.html' title='Dedicated to Kim'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2458451968874256969</id><published>2009-06-08T17:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T17:22:16.398-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Read</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Si2b7cGfodI/AAAAAAAAA5U/pb9aW0HIKDk/s1600-h/guernseypotatopeelpie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Si2b7cGfodI/AAAAAAAAA5U/pb9aW0HIKDk/s200/guernseypotatopeelpie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345099778216665554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"I wonder how the book got to Guernsey? Perhaps there is some secret sort of homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This can be true for every reader of this book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoy most books I read. But I have to tell you how much I loved the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. It's no secret that I love books having to to do with World War II. I find so many of the stories, whether fact or historical fiction, fascinating. However, some of them can be a little heavy. This book, while touching on heavy topics, does so in such a manner that just endears these characters to you all the more. I fell in love with this entire story and found myself sad to see it end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are looking for a good read, I highly recommend this one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2458451968874256969?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2458451968874256969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2458451968874256969&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2458451968874256969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2458451968874256969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/06/good-read.html' title='Good Read'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Si2b7cGfodI/AAAAAAAAA5U/pb9aW0HIKDk/s72-c/guernseypotatopeelpie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-8488422283607526518</id><published>2009-05-27T14:44:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T14:49:48.072-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe Only I Will Enjoy This</title><content type='html'>So, I like basketball, right? And it is playoffs time, so things are good. Yelling at my TV, talking to the players like they can hear me - all completely sane. I saw this today and was mildly interested (can you blame me? Dwayne Wade is kinda cute!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jQA4w1qwfFc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jQA4w1qwfFc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most interesting thing, how much Charles Barkley has let himself go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sh2mzqyhAQI/AAAAAAAAA5M/iJv68jQxzBg/s1600-h/CharlesBarkleySuns.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sh2mzqyhAQI/AAAAAAAAA5M/iJv68jQxzBg/s200/CharlesBarkleySuns.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340608139720982786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What happened?!?! Anyway, that's what's on my mind today. Well, that and kinda hoping the Lakers lose tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-8488422283607526518?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/8488422283607526518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=8488422283607526518&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8488422283607526518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8488422283607526518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/05/maybe-only-i-will-enjoy-this.html' title='Maybe Only I Will Enjoy This'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sh2mzqyhAQI/AAAAAAAAA5M/iJv68jQxzBg/s72-c/CharlesBarkleySuns.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-98983782009377449</id><published>2009-05-24T19:25:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T19:29:23.354-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Peek Into the Single Life</title><content type='html'>Two things have been said to me lately that just make me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first, after asking a guy if he was working, going to school, both, neither: "I'm actually in an alternative-jail program right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second: "I bet you probably have a ton of guys after you, but if you are ever bored and want to hang out with a guy that will probably try to make out with you, I'd love to hang out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good stuff, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-98983782009377449?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/98983782009377449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=98983782009377449&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/98983782009377449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/98983782009377449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/05/peek-into-single-life.html' title='A Peek Into the Single Life'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-6138888206007575414</id><published>2009-05-21T15:02:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T15:26:52.338-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebs, Part Two</title><content type='html'>My brain is fried right now. I don't want to do anything that requires major thinking. So you get a little blog! I was thinking about my celebrity crush post and realized that I had not included a single blondie in the mix. However, after looking at a picture of Kevin Connolly (below), I got to thinking about other fair-haired crushes I might have. It was easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEiCdsnGI/AAAAAAAAA4o/8529k4NFw4w/s1600-h/Picture+2.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEiCdsnGI/AAAAAAAAA4o/8529k4NFw4w/s200/Picture+2.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338389022373616738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kevin Connolly, as you can see. Just a cute, funny guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEh5eH4jI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Gex0r13qaw0/s1600-h/Picture+3.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEh5eH4jI/AAAAAAAAA4g/Gex0r13qaw0/s200/Picture+3.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338389019959484978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Paul Bettany. Do you know how hard it is to find a picture of this guy smiling? It's not easy. He has played a lot of serious roles (Da Vinci Code, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind), so maybe that's why. He's still handsome though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEhbSFi3I/AAAAAAAAA4Y/qGH_rSVWjEU/s1600-h/danielcraigjamesbondcasinoroyale.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEhbSFi3I/AAAAAAAAA4Y/qGH_rSVWjEU/s200/danielcraigjamesbondcasinoroyale.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338389011855936370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ah, Daniel Craig. This picture is from my favorite scene out of Casino Royale. I didn't think it'd be appropriate to show the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;actual&lt;/span&gt; portion of this scene that is truly my favorite. He's just a hunk. That's all there is to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEhfkhnZI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/fYV1yKC0_Oo/s1600-h/baker2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEhfkhnZI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/fYV1yKC0_Oo/s200/baker2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338389013007015314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Simon Baker. Just a handsome dude with a wicked smile. And he plays fairly witty characters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEhE9cmPI/AAAAAAAAA4I/YEQ7mtu1rGs/s1600-h/19448_Yugg_HQCity_RU0180_122_882lo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 178px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEhE9cmPI/AAAAAAAAA4I/YEQ7mtu1rGs/s200/19448_Yugg_HQCity_RU0180_122_882lo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338389005863786738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Damian Lewis. He had me as Dick Winters in Band of Brothers and the infatuation continued with Charlie Crews in Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Now, let's play "One of These Things is Not Like the Other". All of these men, save one, have a commonality. Any guesses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-6138888206007575414?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/6138888206007575414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=6138888206007575414&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6138888206007575414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6138888206007575414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/05/celebs-part-two.html' title='Celebs, Part Two'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ShXEiCdsnGI/AAAAAAAAA4o/8529k4NFw4w/s72-c/Picture+2.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2130063176943140937</id><published>2009-05-14T16:14:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T16:22:40.869-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Inherited Trait</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have come to a conclusion. I inherited my penchant for cheesy, giddy behavior from the two people below. My oldest sibling either doesn't have these traits, or suppresses this facet of his personality very well, because it doesn't come out often. As for the rest of us, it is apparent in almost everything we do. Annoying? Yes. Endearing? Absolutely!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgyYfEeDbzI/AAAAAAAAA4A/LZdc68fnLiw/s1600-h/IMG_0086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgyYfEeDbzI/AAAAAAAAA4A/LZdc68fnLiw/s320/IMG_0086.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335807318070357810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mel stole my camera for this fantastic picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgyYe1RC3pI/AAAAAAAAA34/Tei1H1pjotw/s1600-h/Grant.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgyYe1RC3pI/AAAAAAAAA34/Tei1H1pjotw/s320/Grant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335807313989262994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Grant stole my computer for this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I wonder if either of them will regret doing so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2130063176943140937?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2130063176943140937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2130063176943140937&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2130063176943140937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2130063176943140937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/05/inherited-trait.html' title='Inherited Trait'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgyYfEeDbzI/AAAAAAAAA4A/LZdc68fnLiw/s72-c/IMG_0086.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-7911105768158892080</id><published>2009-05-11T23:34:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T23:48:00.538-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Train of Thought</title><content type='html'>I think that sometimes, to understand a post of mine, you have to understand the train of thought leading up to a post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, today, while watching The Office, they mentioned Youngstown, Ohio, which led to me thinking, "Wasn't there a band called Youngstown?", which led to Google, which led to this awesome picture, which led to sampling their music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgkK6kXqJXI/AAAAAAAAA3g/Iwe8CM3cgTo/s1600-h/music_youngstown3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgkK6kXqJXI/AAAAAAAAA3g/Iwe8CM3cgTo/s320/music_youngstown3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334807234908661106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Seeing the picture above made me think that not all "boy bands" of the 90s were clean cut. And this made me think I kind of liked that. Then I went to YouTube where all of these awesome bands had clips from their Disney concerts. And I found the boys below. 5ive. Man, I loved these guys. Disney was so smart to repeat these concerts constantly. I was watching one of the clips tonight and could do the dance and rap right along with them. Even after 10 years. (How's that for a visual?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgkK6vQYFpI/AAAAAAAAA3o/Pq5JmWhfaos/s1600-h/five04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgkK6vQYFpI/AAAAAAAAA3o/Pq5JmWhfaos/s320/five04.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334807237830907538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I can guarantee that the picture below was my desktop background during this same time period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgkK6yUZHCI/AAAAAAAAA3w/wf5AUPHEGHw/s1600-h/scott5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 275px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgkK6yUZHCI/AAAAAAAAA3w/wf5AUPHEGHw/s320/scott5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334807238653058082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This little post about my train of thought might also explain why I will be popping the 5ive CD into my car tomorrow so that I can rock out to "When the Lights Go Out" on my way to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-7911105768158892080?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/7911105768158892080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=7911105768158892080&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7911105768158892080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7911105768158892080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/05/train-of-thought.html' title='Train of Thought'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgkK6kXqJXI/AAAAAAAAA3g/Iwe8CM3cgTo/s72-c/music_youngstown3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-6711822242519486550</id><published>2009-05-08T11:04:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T11:13:29.619-06:00</updated><title type='text'>NKOTB</title><content type='html'>So, I saw that New Kids performed on the Today Show and wanted to see the video. Um...I laughed. Really hard. I just don't know how to take them seriously. If you want to hear a little bit of this awesomeness, check out the video below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22425001/vp/30640373#30640373" frameborder="0" height="339" scrolling="no" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;p style="background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; font-size: 11px; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; color: rgb(153, 153, 153); margin-top: 5px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; text-align: center; width: 425px;"&gt;Visit msnbc.com for &lt;a style="border-bottom: 1px dotted rgb(153, 153, 153) ! important; text-decoration: none ! important; font-weight: normal ! important; height: 13px; color: rgb(87, 153, 219) ! important;" href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/"&gt;Breaking News&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032507" style="border-bottom: 1px dotted rgb(153, 153, 153) ! important; text-decoration: none ! important; font-weight: normal ! important; height: 13px; color: rgb(87, 153, 219) ! important;"&gt;World News&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032072" style="border-bottom: 1px dotted rgb(153, 153, 153) ! important; text-decoration: none ! important; font-weight: normal ! important; height: 13px; color: rgb(87, 153, 219) ! important;"&gt;News about the Economy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What's that? You can't quite understand the lyrics to this incredible song? Let me give you a quick sample:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Now I know that my girl is alone&lt;br /&gt;And she's been blowing me up on my phone&lt;br /&gt;But I can shower when I get back home 'cause&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I'm dancing dirty, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ooh, she's so crazy&lt;br /&gt;She's like Baby, I'm like Swayze&lt;br /&gt;I said ooh, and I'm burning up, so let's turn it up&lt;br /&gt;I said turn it up now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the days of "I'll Be Loving You Forever". I don't care for the grown up band. Although I will say I have a weird crush on Danny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-6711822242519486550?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/6711822242519486550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=6711822242519486550&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6711822242519486550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/6711822242519486550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/05/nkotb.html' title='NKOTB'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-7832581658294639507</id><published>2009-05-07T14:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T14:09:08.717-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Chance Harvey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgM_QFzoLcI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/dJmBvpeCtiw/s1600-h/dustin_hoffman_and_emma_thompson_-_last_chance_harvey_movie_image.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgM_QFzoLcI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/dJmBvpeCtiw/s320/dustin_hoffman_and_emma_thompson_-_last_chance_harvey_movie_image.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333175929405976002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night, my roommates and I watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Last Chance Harvey&lt;/span&gt;. Never has a movie elicited such reactions throughout the entire group. Usually, I yell at the TV, because, well, that is what makes me charming (right?). But all of us were rooting for this movie to work the way we wanted it to. I recommend it. Not a fast-paced, laugh-a-minute movie, but it was just a very sweet story. Let me know your thoughts if you decide to see this one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-7832581658294639507?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/7832581658294639507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=7832581658294639507&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7832581658294639507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/7832581658294639507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/05/last-chance-harvey.html' title='Last Chance Harvey'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SgM_QFzoLcI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/dJmBvpeCtiw/s72-c/dustin_hoffman_and_emma_thompson_-_last_chance_harvey_movie_image.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-67077407291608995</id><published>2009-04-28T11:27:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T11:29:28.457-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Funny</title><content type='html'>We all know how much I love me some George. But how about Kermit as George as Daniel Ocean? Incredible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/O1Q7f-fPXcM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/O1Q7f-fPXcM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be his Miss Piggy anytime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-67077407291608995?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/67077407291608995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=67077407291608995&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/67077407291608995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/67077407291608995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/funny.html' title='A Funny'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-5159117687548071412</id><published>2009-04-27T16:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T16:11:24.727-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Perks of a New Job</title><content type='html'>I love my life. Here are the reasons why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Maximum 10-minute commute&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gas station within walking distance - Exercise, Vitamin D AND Diet Coke in one neat package&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Super laid back atmosphere - jeans whenever, no strict time to get here, etc.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The easiest boss to work for&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Low stress&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Some days, when the white noise of CNBC is just enough, I'm here alone, and I don't think I can listen to Jim Cramer yell, I turn on Ellen.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Yes, life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-5159117687548071412?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/5159117687548071412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=5159117687548071412&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5159117687548071412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5159117687548071412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/perks-of-new-job.html' title='Perks of a New Job'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-8313594615597835808</id><published>2009-04-27T14:03:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T14:05:25.813-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I read this in an article today and thought it was a nice reminder for any relationship I have, regardless of my "status":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Every annoyance in a relationship is really a two-way street.  Partners focus on what they're getting, not on what they're giving.  But no matter how frustrating a partner's behavior, your interpretation is the greater part of it.  What matters is the meaning you attach to it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-8313594615597835808?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/8313594615597835808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=8313594615597835808&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8313594615597835808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8313594615597835808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-read-this-in-article-today-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-9072774031207253819</id><published>2009-04-27T09:38:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T09:42:44.380-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I think I don't pay enough attention to my body. As I was getting ready this morning, I noticed these three sun spots on my leg - IN A STRAIGHT LINE - that I had never noticed before. I have no idea how long they've been there, but there they were, staring me in the face. Isn't that weird?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SfXR7dG_9sI/AAAAAAAAA24/81Vb2yzikxU/s1600-h/IMG_0886.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-9072774031207253819?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/9072774031207253819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=9072774031207253819&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/9072774031207253819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/9072774031207253819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/strange.html' title='Strange'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2375368892478061269</id><published>2009-04-22T09:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T10:30:41.258-06:00</updated><title type='text'>SPRINGTIME!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Se88XLrSgEI/AAAAAAAAA2I/h1YeB8PeE_U/s1600-h/grass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Se88XLrSgEI/AAAAAAAAA2I/h1YeB8PeE_U/s400/grass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327543253171601474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I walked out of my house this morning to the sounds of lawnmowers and the smell of fresh cut grass. I LOVE SPRING! I know that there's supposed to be crappy weather again this weekend, but today I am relishing the smells and sights and a welcome dose of Vitamin D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2375368892478061269?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2375368892478061269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2375368892478061269&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2375368892478061269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2375368892478061269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/springtime.html' title='SPRINGTIME!!!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Se88XLrSgEI/AAAAAAAAA2I/h1YeB8PeE_U/s72-c/grass.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3033753111981496921</id><published>2009-04-21T10:49:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T10:54:46.885-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Horoscope</title><content type='html'>My horoscope today said, "If your recent dreams have been unclear, don't waste any of your brain power freaking out about it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a good thing. Otherwise, I would be freaking out about this incredibly hot guy from my ward coming with me to family dinner after having only spent all of about 30 minutes together. Although, the idea of spending 30 minutes with him doesn't seem so bad...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3033753111981496921?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3033753111981496921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3033753111981496921&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3033753111981496921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3033753111981496921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/horoscope.html' title='Horoscope'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-9006981604452817799</id><published>2009-04-17T12:17:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T12:23:40.890-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Alike</title><content type='html'>Today, while in a meeting with a client, he turned to me and said, "You know who you look like? Carolyn Jones." Both my brother and I were clueless, so we looked her up. Morticia from The Addams Family. What do you think? Do I look like her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SejIrYJYIQI/AAAAAAAAA1w/PRRpB1g3ZKE/s1600-h/morticia-sized.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 167px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SejIrYJYIQI/AAAAAAAAA1w/PRRpB1g3ZKE/s200/morticia-sized.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325727206907322626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SejIrdFsSTI/AAAAAAAAA14/HnLDnrfkEgI/s1600-h/n581288452_446192_2194.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SejIrdFsSTI/AAAAAAAAA14/HnLDnrfkEgI/s200/n581288452_446192_2194.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325727208234043698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-9006981604452817799?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/9006981604452817799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=9006981604452817799&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/9006981604452817799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/9006981604452817799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/look-alike.html' title='Look Alike'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SejIrYJYIQI/AAAAAAAAA1w/PRRpB1g3ZKE/s72-c/morticia-sized.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-4228131056113251914</id><published>2009-04-16T17:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T17:38:24.411-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Days...</title><content type='html'>...I wonder about things. Things like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I happy enough with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;myself&lt;/span&gt; to be happy with someone &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;else&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I pretty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I interesting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I have bad dating karma because I tell people my silly dating anecdotes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I reserve judgment for all the wrong things?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I too picky?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I even be posting my insecurities for you to see?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-4228131056113251914?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/4228131056113251914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=4228131056113251914&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4228131056113251914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4228131056113251914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/some-days.html' title='Some Days...'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-441147977097509289</id><published>2009-04-15T10:14:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T10:26:54.214-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Roommate Issue</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I have an issue with one of my roommates. You see, she has gotten me addicted to something horrible - Lifetime Original Movies. That's right. My guilty pleasure is out there for the world to know. Dumb girl. She has made me want to watch these predictable movies with hot dudes (see below) and silly plotlines. So much so that if the two of us are sitting in front of the TV and there's nothing on, we go to the Lifetime Movie Network (yes, there is one) and see what we can catch. The thing I don't like about this - it makes me totally distrusting! You go through the whole movie waiting for everyone to betray each other and not knowing who is good and bad. It's crazy and madness and I keep going back for more and not understanding why!!! And with this, my rant is done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeYJTPK_IVI/AAAAAAAAA1g/KO2OI0i2jzk/s1600-h/ivan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeYJTPK_IVI/AAAAAAAAA1g/KO2OI0i2jzk/s320/ivan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324953835506966866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeYJE7IS7pI/AAAAAAAAA1Y/MRY2Z5223kc/s1600-h/ecibrian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeYJE7IS7pI/AAAAAAAAA1Y/MRY2Z5223kc/s320/ecibrian.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324953589608803986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;P.S. Lifetime has my hunky dreamboat man down to a tee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-441147977097509289?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/441147977097509289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=441147977097509289&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/441147977097509289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/441147977097509289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/roommate-issue.html' title='Roommate Issue'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeYJTPK_IVI/AAAAAAAAA1g/KO2OI0i2jzk/s72-c/ivan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2534878251043110236</id><published>2009-04-14T12:47:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T12:55:55.667-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird Celebrity Crushes</title><content type='html'>The last couple of posts were too serious. So, for some lighthearted fun, here is something that will make you think I'm really strange. You've seen my normal celebrity crushes, now here are some of the ones that not many people understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeTbGfV4yhI/AAAAAAAAA1A/QUngLYvvY04/s1600-h/patrick%252520stewart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeTbGfV4yhI/AAAAAAAAA1A/QUngLYvvY04/s320/patrick%252520stewart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324621563997768210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeTbGRdwvII/AAAAAAAAA04/m62NMUubU5A/s1600-h/JeffGoldblum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeTbGRdwvII/AAAAAAAAA04/m62NMUubU5A/s320/JeffGoldblum.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324621560272698498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeTbGW3lM6I/AAAAAAAAA0w/wWmBmntXHiE/s1600-h/cowell_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeTbGW3lM6I/AAAAAAAAA0w/wWmBmntXHiE/s320/cowell_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324621561723171746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeTbGjTrroI/AAAAAAAAA1I/WGNLiKlsG20/s1600-h/dwayne-johnson-cd-01-762550.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeTbGjTrroI/AAAAAAAAA1I/WGNLiKlsG20/s320/dwayne-johnson-cd-01-762550.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324621565062262402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do you have any celebrity crushes that people just totally don't understand?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2534878251043110236?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2534878251043110236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2534878251043110236&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2534878251043110236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2534878251043110236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/weird-celebrity-crushes.html' title='Weird Celebrity Crushes'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SeTbGfV4yhI/AAAAAAAAA1A/QUngLYvvY04/s72-c/patrick%252520stewart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3560507614660009374</id><published>2009-04-09T20:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T21:10:10.866-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You</title><content type='html'>The phrase "laid off" sure scared some people, but that was actually the last thing on my mind when I posted the other day. It was honestly such a relief to leave - to the point that I feel like a bit of a different person. I truly feel so blessed right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've already got another job lined up with my brother that I'm really excited/nervous about. I'm mostly nervous because my brother's got such expectations and trust. It's been a while since I've felt that I'm needed and trusted and will be utilized as the assistant I know I can be. But I feel like I'm up to the challenge. Mostly because, along with those expectations, my brother believes in me. And that's one of the best motivators in the world for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say thank you. This has been the craziest week in my life. So many things have been going on (even outside of this whole "job" thing), but I believe that when I look back at this week, the one thing I will remember is the outpouring of love and support I have felt. So many people have had such concern and a willingness to help out. It's humbling to know so many people care. I've had calls with job offers, words of advice, offers for dinner, etc. and every time I start to think about all of this show of love, I get choked up (I've become a crier in my old age). So, thank you. Much love from me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3560507614660009374?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3560507614660009374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3560507614660009374&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3560507614660009374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3560507614660009374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/thank-you.html' title='Thank You'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-1383236921294300442</id><published>2009-04-07T23:25:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T23:33:39.555-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessed</title><content type='html'>I try not to get too sappy on my blog, but if there was any day to be sappy, today would be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got laid off this afternoon. It didn't come as a surprise, but it was a relief. I've known that it would not be an "if" situation, but a "when" situation for months, which has been very draining mentally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've gone through several emotions today: relieved, nervous, crazy crying wreck, manic, happy, sad, etc.. However, as I sit here tonight, thinking about everything that's gone on today, the only word that comes to mind is "blessed".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so blessed. Blessed to have worked with such good people who taught me so much both personally and professionally. Blessed when those same people have nothing but encouraging things to say and who threaten to hunt me down because I didn't come by their office to say goodbye. Blessed to have such supportive friends and family who will listen to me try to be rational through the tears. Blessed that the Lord has given me a positive attitude that is beyond my understanding. Blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-1383236921294300442?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/1383236921294300442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=1383236921294300442&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1383236921294300442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1383236921294300442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/blessed.html' title='Blessed'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-8834333775443558563</id><published>2009-04-07T14:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T14:26:04.789-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Idiocy Part Deux</title><content type='html'>Yup. It's another installment of "Karen, are you really that dumb?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had to pick up lunch for a meeting at my office. I am on a "forced frugality" budget and have been bringing my lunch to work, but I really wanted a fountain Diet Coke. So while I was waiting for the order, I bought a cup, filled it up with refreshing Diet Coke, put the straw in the lid and proceeded to throw not only the straw wrapper, but also my car keys in the garbage can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if anyone tells you about the crazy lady digging through the garbage at Kneader's, you can balk and pretend you have no idea who it is!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-8834333775443558563?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/8834333775443558563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=8834333775443558563&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8834333775443558563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8834333775443558563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/idiocy-part-deux.html' title='Idiocy Part Deux'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2126914401581537624</id><published>2009-04-05T20:54:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T20:58:49.098-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously?</title><content type='html'>This evening, we wanted to watch &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chocolat&lt;/span&gt;, but it wasn't anywhere to be found ONDemand. But when I searched it, I found this song, called "Chocolate Legs" by Eric Benet.What?!?!?! I couldn't help myself, and since I had the remote, my roommates had to suffer through most of it. I can't believe this man could sing this with a straight face. I found the video, which is below. He talks until it hits about 1:30 and after which you should give it a good minute to get to the chorus where you'll understand what I'm talking about. Seriously?!?!? I laughed so hard I cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VDLcnlNhZxg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VDLcnlNhZxg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&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/4256482452589545204-2126914401581537624?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2126914401581537624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2126914401581537624&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2126914401581537624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2126914401581537624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/seriously.html' title='Seriously?'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-281692363650534434</id><published>2009-04-04T17:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T17:29:45.541-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Idiocy and Minimalism</title><content type='html'>I'm dumb. Some people say "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways." But usually, when it's me, they say, "How dumb can you be? Let me count the ways."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, yesterday I was putting something away in my filing cabinet and slammed it shut...along with four keys and part of the key ring. I spent five minutes yanking and pushing trying to get it open again so I could close it (the right way). As I was doing this, I pulled on the key ring and sliced my finger. To the point that I couldn't use my index finger from about 3:00pm on yesterday (to the point that I was cussing in my head when it touched anything, even gently). My roommate thinks I might have tetanus. I think it's healing nicely. I can use my index finger with relatively little pain today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, I lose my phone &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;all the time&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Like today when I went to lunch between conference sessions. As I got back, I realized I didn't have my phone with me. So I asked my roommate to call it and I heard it vibrating, but couldn't see it. I thought it was the crappy lighting in the garage, so I grabbed a flashlight and was looking under my seat and the passenger seat and in the back seat. As I was doing this, my sweatshirt hit the side of the car and I heard a clunk. My phone was in the pocket of my hoodie. I was a little sheepish walking back in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, onto minimalism. I have taken to being a minimalist on Saturdays. What does this mean, you ask? Well. It means I do the least possible in order to feel decent before leaving the house. This pretty much means I put on a little makeup, throw my hair in a ponytail (and a headband to get my bangs out of the way) and usually end up in a uniform consisting of jeans, a hoodie and tennis shoes. I really dress to impress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-281692363650534434?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/281692363650534434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=281692363650534434&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/281692363650534434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/281692363650534434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/idiocy-and-minimalism.html' title='Idiocy and Minimalism'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-1564139161707908824</id><published>2009-04-02T16:09:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T16:11:47.829-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Invitation</title><content type='html'>I received an email today inviting me to join AARP. I don't even know how to respond to that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-1564139161707908824?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/1564139161707908824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=1564139161707908824&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1564139161707908824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1564139161707908824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/04/invitation.html' title='Invitation'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-360579729514699907</id><published>2009-03-26T22:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T22:38:04.056-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Adult Conversation</title><content type='html'>***Disclaimer*** While the topic might seem adult, it was also all in jest. And this whole thing is probably a whole lot funnier to me than it should be, but gosh darnit, I needed the stress relief it provided!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, as I was walking up the stairs to my room, a strange conversation started. It goes like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roommate: "What is cyber sex anyway?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "It's like phone sex, but you type instead of talk." (Not that I've experienced this, just that I wasn't born yesterday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R: "Oh. Well, aren't your hands busy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: (As I fall to the floor laughing) "Really?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughing on my end continues for minutes (this was the stress relief part of my day)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next topic:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R: "I'm really embarrassed about my &lt;a href="http://kimhasthoughts.blogspot.com/2009/03/tmi-tuesday.html"&gt;blog post&lt;/a&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Side Note: I always know I'm in for something good when her sentences start out "Oh, it's so embarassing..." because I know she'll tell me anyway and it'll be super funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Me (and other roommate): "Don't be embarrassed. It's happened to us, too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the point where we all talked about being kissed "right". Yes, there is a right and a wrong way. And if you don't know if you're doing it right, it's probably wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that, my friends, is your glimpse into living in a house full of single girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-360579729514699907?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/360579729514699907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=360579729514699907&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/360579729514699907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/360579729514699907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/adult-conversation.html' title='Adult Conversation'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-8550245443427260688</id><published>2009-03-26T17:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T17:22:09.638-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Question</title><content type='html'>Have you ever noticed how most FedEx, UPS, etc. delivery men have nice legs? It's good to see them in shorts again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-8550245443427260688?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/8550245443427260688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=8550245443427260688&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8550245443427260688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8550245443427260688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/question.html' title='Question'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3201666006251653996</id><published>2009-03-25T15:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T15:36:35.139-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One of Those Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ScqinVevKLI/AAAAAAAAAz4/aJINqI2PLPY/s1600-h/needholiday.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 279px; height: 318px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ScqinVevKLI/AAAAAAAAAz4/aJINqI2PLPY/s320/needholiday.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317241106728954034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is what I imagine I look like today. I am having one of those days where I know I'm really stressed because it's more than a dull pain in my shoulders and neck (my muscles are always really tight there anyway).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the stress is also making me really cranky, because all I really want to do is lock myself in a room and get the work done that I need to - sans interruptions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll scream really loud in my car on the drive home and that will ease some of this. Does anyone have a better outlet for dealing with stress?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3201666006251653996?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3201666006251653996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3201666006251653996&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3201666006251653996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3201666006251653996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of Those Days'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/ScqinVevKLI/AAAAAAAAAz4/aJINqI2PLPY/s72-c/needholiday.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2886669186554838262</id><published>2009-03-24T22:14:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T22:48:41.366-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminiscing (Again)</title><content type='html'>I'm avoiding doing my taxes, so here comes YouTube!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss TV from my childhood. Why, you ask? Well, I grew up on the Disney Channel. I'm pretty sure it was cooler in my day than it is now. And if you didn't think I was cheesy before, you'll know I am now, because I was still getting excited watching all these videos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1F42UmbTzBo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1F42UmbTzBo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't Fergie look great in that video?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These next two videos have my biggest Mickey Mouse Club crush EVER! (Tony Lucca. Dude's hot.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/t7LLWLr2_Tw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/t7LLWLr2_Tw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aTagGWZaceQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aTagGWZaceQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in this one they're just so darn little! Aren't they cute? (Can you imagine me saying that in a high-pitched voice? Cause I was!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XgSiIZv23BE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XgSiIZv23BE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&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/4256482452589545204-2886669186554838262?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2886669186554838262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2886669186554838262&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2886669186554838262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2886669186554838262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/reminiscing-again.html' title='Reminiscing (Again)'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-1498853342753018805</id><published>2009-03-24T08:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T08:57:33.407-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Than the Movie</title><content type='html'>So, I heard that the director's commentary on the Twilight DVD was really funny, so last night my roommate and I sat down and watched it. Let me tell you, watching the movie with the commentary on is better than the actual movie! Robert Pattison's self-deprication makes it so great. I think he's got the cutest laugh when he finds his own jokes funny. The director gets kind of annoying and I honestly think she's got a majorly creepy crush on Mr. Pattinson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, if you are looking for some entertainment and have nothing better to do, turn on the commentary and giggle along with Robert Pattinson.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-1498853342753018805?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/1498853342753018805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=1498853342753018805&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1498853342753018805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1498853342753018805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/better-than-movie.html' title='Better Than the Movie'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2915084879406180144</id><published>2009-03-19T16:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T16:22:49.791-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Vanity or Positive Affirmation?</title><content type='html'>While on my way to a seminar downtown today, a BMW Z4 came speeding down the freeway and cut into my lane, causing me to brake a little. As I looked at this speedy dude in front of me, I noticed he had vanity plates that said "Sexy Boy". My first thought was "What an arrogant little bugger!" because I don't really like vanity plates. I think they scream "Look at me! Look at me!" and I don't really like that type of attention. But maybe this gentleman needs the positive affirmation that his vanity plates bring him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I was making my way back to the freeway from the seminar, and who comes pulling on to the on-ramp but my sexy friend. We meet again! I laughed a little because he was trapped and couldn't fly ahead of everyone, but it only took him a couple of minutes to be miles ahead of me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2915084879406180144?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2915084879406180144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2915084879406180144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2915084879406180144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2915084879406180144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/vanity-or-positive-affirmation.html' title='Vanity or Positive Affirmation?'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3515773955801783568</id><published>2009-03-15T20:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T20:54:58.809-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Birthday Present</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago, I was at my parents house talking to my dad and he excitedly told me he'd ordered my birthday present. This was strange to me, because as I got to thinking about it, I realized that I don't think my dad has ever personally picked out a birthday gift for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, earlier this week, my mom called and told me that dad had gotten me a present and was really excited about giving it to me and hoped I would like it. This was really strange. He's excited, my mom's calling to tell me he's excited...what was it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, when I went over for dinner tonight, my dad says to me, "Your present came in the mail." I can be patient when I want to and especially when someone is so excited to surprise me with something, so I figured I could wait the few weeks until my birthday comes. My cute dad, however, couldn't. So I got my present from him early today...see below for the exciting gift!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sb2-RLgW_LI/AAAAAAAAAzw/fE15qXvjRPA/s1600-h/511RF52N1KL._SS400_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sb2-RLgW_LI/AAAAAAAAAzw/fE15qXvjRPA/s320/511RF52N1KL._SS400_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313612337722621106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited to play it sometime, we previewed some of the questions today. Happy early birthday to me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3515773955801783568?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3515773955801783568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3515773955801783568&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3515773955801783568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3515773955801783568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/early-birthday-present.html' title='Early Birthday Present'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sb2-RLgW_LI/AAAAAAAAAzw/fE15qXvjRPA/s72-c/511RF52N1KL._SS400_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-5632085098103634880</id><published>2009-03-13T09:19:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T09:29:01.785-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Doug Ross</title><content type='html'>I haven't watched ER in a few years, but when I saw the previews that Carter was back, as were Carol and Benton, I had to watch it last night. They did not disappoint. My poor roommate was on the phone when it started and I screamed because George's name popped up in the beginning credits. ER is where my love affair with George started, although I don't know why I didn't see it during his time on The Facts of Life. Anyway, look at how great he is below. I love Doug Ross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="296" width="512"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/0eaAuFoECz9IJ0t9sIR-OQ"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/0eaAuFoECz9IJ0t9sIR-OQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="296" width="512"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-5632085098103634880?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/5632085098103634880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=5632085098103634880&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5632085098103634880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/5632085098103634880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-love-doug-ross.html' title='I Love Doug Ross'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3868268760296319493</id><published>2009-03-12T16:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T16:45:35.670-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cravings &amp; Giggles</title><content type='html'>Cravings:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SbmPrXJXQgI/AAAAAAAAAzo/JQb-ubUEId0/s1600-h/76336147_3c8b14141d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SbmPrXJXQgI/AAAAAAAAAzo/JQb-ubUEId0/s320/76336147_3c8b14141d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312435210570646018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think that Chipotle puts something in their chips/salsa because I crave it on a regular basis (like right now, even though I ate similar food for dinner last night).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giggles:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing these two songs during my workday, thanks to the shuffle feature in iTunes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vGb-xJsqQcw&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/vGb-xJsqQcw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h6qiV2nS6Js&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/h6qiV2nS6Js&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/4256482452589545204-3868268760296319493?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3868268760296319493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3868268760296319493&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3868268760296319493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3868268760296319493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/cravings-giggles.html' title='Cravings &amp; Giggles'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SbmPrXJXQgI/AAAAAAAAAzo/JQb-ubUEId0/s72-c/76336147_3c8b14141d.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-227764532736389177</id><published>2009-03-08T11:43:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T21:22:07.781-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Night of My Life</title><content type='html'>I don't usually consider myself a giddy person. But last night, I was giddy with excitement. I'm still giddy just thinking about this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5c23e2e083a8905f" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5c23e2e083a8905f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331659846%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1CBE655311E9EE89F0F8EB6A59ABBAF2FBA8AFEB.2EEAE6D701087B09F3639C700AFFDE404C396E02%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5c23e2e083a8905f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DiJ7-hME3e7yF0nZs3KikBu_WDgQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5c23e2e083a8905f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331659846%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1CBE655311E9EE89F0F8EB6A59ABBAF2FBA8AFEB.2EEAE6D701087B09F3639C700AFFDE404C396E02%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5c23e2e083a8905f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DiJ7-hME3e7yF0nZs3KikBu_WDgQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Seriously, this was one of the best night's of my life. When Boyz II Men came out with their "II" album, my brother and his friends went to the concert and I was really upset when he had extra tickets and wouldn't let me go. In retrospect, I was probably 11 or 12 and that was not the concert for me at that age. But last night their concert was the perfect place to be! We were on the third row behind the floor and it was just incredible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-8f75279be59622e8" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8f75279be59622e8%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331659846%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D73E12EA8F0CAB0AF5F93E65F4E1874ECAC9B5889.69F530418E3B7BF104F378CFAF1329BC7B7C9A2C%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8f75279be59622e8%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DxVCfBbjwGEf2vrkAc7pjJ1IrNOQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8f75279be59622e8%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331659846%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D73E12EA8F0CAB0AF5F93E65F4E1874ECAC9B5889.69F530418E3B7BF104F378CFAF1329BC7B7C9A2C%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8f75279be59622e8%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DxVCfBbjwGEf2vrkAc7pjJ1IrNOQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Pardon the camerawork, I was dancing a little. Also, just a warning: at the end, I scream a little loudly)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SbSI53oUibI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/V70Zg1QA2jk/s1600-h/IMG_0860.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SbSI53oUibI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/V70Zg1QA2jk/s320/IMG_0860.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311020388343646642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These gentlemen were so so so good! Not only are they talented artists, they were very engaging on stage. What a night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-227764532736389177?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/227764532736389177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=227764532736389177&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/227764532736389177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/227764532736389177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/best-night-of-my-life.html' title='Best Night of My Life'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SbSI53oUibI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/V70Zg1QA2jk/s72-c/IMG_0860.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-8490173646899528273</id><published>2009-03-05T17:09:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T17:12:38.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exhibitionist</title><content type='html'>Who changed clothes in their car, in the parking garage, during the middle of a work day and got done just in time for Mr. Yellow Jeep to walk out for his smoke break? Me! Good thing I'm sneaky...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-8490173646899528273?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/8490173646899528273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=8490173646899528273&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8490173646899528273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8490173646899528273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/who-changed-clothes-in-their-car-during.html' title='Exhibitionist'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-9031295326408444407</id><published>2009-03-02T16:33:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T16:43:31.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Domesticity</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SaxtHVuYZ3I/AAAAAAAAAx4/2qu9PREaNOA/s1600-h/DSCF4909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SaxtHVuYZ3I/AAAAAAAAAx4/2qu9PREaNOA/s320/DSCF4909.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308738033621165938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I couldn't help but show off this cute picture my sis sent me today. I can only imagine the story she's telling. When you ask her a question, or she's telling a story, her eyes always veer off to the side like that. Makes you wonder if she's being completely honest...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent Friday night chillin' with my nephews while my brother and his wife celebrated their 10-year anniversary. As we watched a movie - one of my nephews cuddled up beside me, the other asleep on the LoveSac - I couldn't help but wonder, "Could I do this? Is this in any near future of mine?" I think I could do it, but that whole future thing is unclear right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on to domesticity. When did everyone go getting all domestic on me? I'm reading posts from Marin about great homemade recipes for tortillas and salad dressing and then I see &lt;a href="http://melodyriches.blogspot.com/2009/03/pillowcase-dress.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; from Mel! Don't get me wrong, I'm quite proud of everything these women are accomplishing, but it makes me feel like I'm missing a gene or something. I think the only thing domestic about me is that I like to have a clean, tidy house. And that's as far as I usually get. Sometimes I get the bug and bake something, but that's a rare occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does one get this domesticity gene? Can it be cultivated? And what motivates your cultivation?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-9031295326408444407?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/9031295326408444407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=9031295326408444407&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/9031295326408444407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/9031295326408444407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/domesticity.html' title='Domesticity'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SaxtHVuYZ3I/AAAAAAAAAx4/2qu9PREaNOA/s72-c/DSCF4909.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-4759313630506192251</id><published>2009-03-02T09:12:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T09:16:11.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dream</title><content type='html'>Last night, I had a dream about Kevin Garnett. We were hanging out and everything, it was weird. The only thing I can attribute to having KG in my dream is a Gatorade commercial. Now, this is a little long, but I couldn't find only the small portion I saw yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/R_jJoGDG4UE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/R_jJoGDG4UE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="295" width="480"&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/4256482452589545204-4759313630506192251?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/4759313630506192251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=4759313630506192251&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4759313630506192251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4759313630506192251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/dream.html' title='A Dream'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-9134839419966997487</id><published>2009-03-02T09:05:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T09:12:26.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tears</title><content type='html'>I am not a crier. It either takes a huge influx of irrational hormones or something really intense to make me cry. Except when it comes to this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SawExxOa2oI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/9x2nMg6ZM3Y/s1600-h/finding_neverland_2004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SawExxOa2oI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/9x2nMg6ZM3Y/s200/finding_neverland_2004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308623313836890754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I cry every time I see this movie, without fail. I start to choke up when Peter goes to the play, and at least a few tears are shed by the very end. Quality movie. Glad I was able to watch it last night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-9134839419966997487?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/9134839419966997487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=9134839419966997487&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/9134839419966997487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/9134839419966997487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/03/tears.html' title='Tears'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SawExxOa2oI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/9x2nMg6ZM3Y/s72-c/finding_neverland_2004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-1604163117474502441</id><published>2009-02-20T17:07:00.010-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:40:14.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's In A Name?</title><content type='html'>I got bored at work today and saw something similar to this. The first one really made me laugh, so I just had to complete it and share with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q1: Type in “[your name] needs” in the Google search.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen needs a lobotomy fund.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q2: Type in “[your name] looks like” in Google search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen looks like the kid from the Campbell's soup commercial. Or a modest Jewish milkmaid. I can't decide which is better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q3: Type in “[your name] says” in Google search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen says, "tread lightly."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q4: Type in “[your name] wants” in Google search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen wants a "friendlier" injection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q5:Type in “[your name] does” in Google search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen does a design job on her own. Or sensation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q6: Type in “[your name] hates” in Google search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen hates shopping carts. Karen hates coming home to the darkness. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;That's a lie - I love the dark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q7: Type in “[your name] asks” in Google search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen asks LoveLab what would make a man want to take care of a woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q8: Type in “[your name] likes ” in Google search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen the word "hussy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q9: Type in “[your name] eats ” in Google search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen eats the grass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q10: Type in “[your name] wears ” in Google search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen wears the red shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q11: Type in “[your name] was arrested for” in Google Search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen was arrested for a drug law offense.&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Not a lot apparently; only 10 results.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Q12: Type in “[your name] loves” in Google Search.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karen loves Kenny.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; This one came up with DIRTY results.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-1604163117474502441?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/1604163117474502441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=1604163117474502441&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1604163117474502441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1604163117474502441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/02/whats-in-name.html' title='What&apos;s In A Name?'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-519144704500647737</id><published>2009-02-18T20:13:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T21:34:27.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Which I Am Vain</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SZzOgP2V17I/AAAAAAAAAwQ/-1Yl89XRbq0/s1600-h/63312745.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SZzOgP2V17I/AAAAAAAAAwQ/-1Yl89XRbq0/s320/63312745.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304341514541193138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have this strange idea in my head. I always think about it when the scenario below happens, but I can't quite figure out the answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I wore flats to work. Again, I don't know why I feel this way, but if it is not deemed a "casual" day at work, I feel incredibly lazy and sloppy if I am wearing flats. I feel like heels add a bit of polish to me - like they complete my "professional look."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Now, I work with women who look totally cute in flats and dress pants. I feel like I look like I just rolled out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, there are some days that I love nothing more than a cute pair of flats, but there is something missing with flats. Maybe it's the swagger (you know the one you get in heels), or maybe it's the idea that my legs look a little better; I don't know. I do know that in my little brain, for my little body, flats do not equal professional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it just me, or do other people feel this way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-519144704500647737?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/519144704500647737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=519144704500647737&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/519144704500647737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/519144704500647737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/02/shoes.html' title='In Which I Am Vain'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SZzOgP2V17I/AAAAAAAAAwQ/-1Yl89XRbq0/s72-c/63312745.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2694611240752286048</id><published>2009-02-05T10:39:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T10:40:23.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Possibly the Funniest Thing I've Seen in a While</title><content type='html'>I don't know whose idea this was, but it's fantastic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/K7lHJ7XkYAo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/K7lHJ7XkYAo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="295" width="480"&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/4256482452589545204-2694611240752286048?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2694611240752286048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2694611240752286048&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2694611240752286048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2694611240752286048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/02/possibly-funniest-thing-ive-seen-in.html' title='Possibly the Funniest Thing I&apos;ve Seen in a While'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2518332083203669943</id><published>2009-01-27T14:30:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T14:46:39.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Age Appropriate</title><content type='html'>I have this problem in my life and this revelation will not come as news to any of you. I have a problem with celebrity crushes. The bigger problem is that most of these crushes are 40+. You know the ones: Clive Owen (and yes, he's handsome even as a prisoner/gardener), George Clooney, and Daniel Craig (who currently graces my desktop).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night, while watching Bride Wars, I had a strange sensation. One of the actors onscreen was really, really attractive to me. And he's only 30!!!! Finally, someone age appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SX-ATnA8A7I/AAAAAAAAAwA/DlPUZaT3Cj0/s1600-h/519px-Bryan_Greenberg_by_David_Shankbone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SX-ATnA8A7I/AAAAAAAAAwA/DlPUZaT3Cj0/s320/519px-Bryan_Greenberg_by_David_Shankbone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296092761189778354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Isn't he attractive?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2518332083203669943?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2518332083203669943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2518332083203669943&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2518332083203669943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2518332083203669943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/01/age-appropriate.html' title='Age Appropriate'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SX-ATnA8A7I/AAAAAAAAAwA/DlPUZaT3Cj0/s72-c/519px-Bryan_Greenberg_by_David_Shankbone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-2178681128580078444</id><published>2009-01-23T14:18:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T14:37:55.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminiscing</title><content type='html'>I'm obviously really busy at work today. Can you tell? Anyway, I'm not even sure how my brain got to thinking of this today, but when I was on the book date, we walked past the young adult section and they still have The Babysitter's Club books! The covers are updated, but it took me back! I spent a lot of time with Kristy and the gang growing up. If anyone knows where I can find the complete set, let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SXo0vsUJwZI/AAAAAAAAAvY/S36iwXPIbuM/s1600-h/1535621543_190a91940f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SXo0vsUJwZI/AAAAAAAAAvY/S36iwXPIbuM/s320/1535621543_190a91940f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294602305881620882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SXo0v25zKbI/AAAAAAAAAvg/SgOHKqQj4NM/s1600-h/writings59BabySittersClub-730247.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SXo0v25zKbI/AAAAAAAAAvg/SgOHKqQj4NM/s320/writings59BabySittersClub-730247.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294602308723878322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wouldn't this be a great addition to anyone's collection? Do you guys have any books that take you back? Remember The Boxcar Children? Or The Great Brain? What about Ramona? I could go on for days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a book-related note, I have a love/hate relationship with the book aisle at Costco. Before this week, I had one book I was reading, five books on the floor by my bed waiting their turn and a list of another 20 or 30 that I want to read. So it's not like I don't have any options. But what happened when I went into Costco? Those darn $8 books caught me! So now, instead of five books waiting to be read, I have seven. Happy reading!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-2178681128580078444?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/2178681128580078444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=2178681128580078444&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2178681128580078444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/2178681128580078444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/01/reminiscing.html' title='Reminiscing'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/SXo0vsUJwZI/AAAAAAAAAvY/S36iwXPIbuM/s72-c/1535621543_190a91940f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-4316754518521629901</id><published>2009-01-23T08:58:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T09:03:19.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fish</title><content type='html'>My boss left me with one instruction before he left on Wednesday night - to feed his fish. I did so yesterday and didn't notice anything awry. When I came in this morning to turn the light on, his office smelled a little funny. I grabbed my coworker who actually likes and has animals and she came in and two of the five fish were dead! I killed his fish! I'm a horrible assistant. So now I have to break the news to him that his catfish have gone the way of the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-4316754518521629901?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/4316754518521629901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=4316754518521629901&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4316754518521629901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/4316754518521629901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/01/fish.html' title='Fish'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-8835842489367330296</id><published>2009-01-22T22:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T22:30:31.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess Who I Get To See?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/w7aBGh9tJWg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/w7aBGh9tJWg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right baby! Boyz II Men. Who's excited for me? I am! I am!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-8835842489367330296?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/8835842489367330296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=8835842489367330296&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8835842489367330296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/8835842489367330296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/01/guess-who-i-get-to-see.html' title='Guess Who I Get To See?!?!?!'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-3447156599002492429</id><published>2009-01-20T15:09:00.008-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T16:27:53.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Talk About Dates, Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Let's talk about you and me. Let's talk about all the good things and the bad things we could be. Let's talk about dates."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(words have been changed because they do not apply to my lifestyle)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Boy: "So, tell me about yourself."&lt;br /&gt;Girl: "I love bears."&lt;br /&gt;Boy: "..."&lt;br /&gt;Girl: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Drunk flirty smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Boy: "Bears? Like koala bears? Or panda bears?"&lt;br /&gt;Girl: "All bears!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cue crickets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;This is not a scene from my dating life. One, I don't really care for bears, I'm more of a tiger kind of gal. Two, while I may have a flirty smile, I do not have a drunk flirty smile. However, I promised some dating stories and my thoughts on said situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember a while back when I mentioned I had a date? I know, it seems like forever, but I really did! Anyway, I went out with this guy who picked me up in the middle of a snowstorm and took me to dinner. Our dinner topics ranged from basketball to classic literature and was really interesting. I have never had such an intellectual conversation about literature with a guy before. As we're driving down the road after dinner, he says to me, "I thought we'd do something a little unconventional tonight." In my head I'm thinking,  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Okay. Unconventional. I think I can handle that." &lt;/span&gt;Unconventional took us to Borders where he suggested we read children's books to each other. I tried to get over the cheesiness of it all and overall, it turned out to be a pretty good night. We went out again, but that one was not so good because it seemed that every topic I mentioned he hated. But that's the way love goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Disclaimer: &lt;/span&gt;This is the part where I sound like a not-nice-word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know guys try really hard to come up with dates that are fun and interesting and memorable. I also know how expensive dating can get, so we try to keep things inexpensive. Therefore, I will put the following out there for the world to know:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am totally fine if a date is the fall-back dinner and a movie.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am also fine if a man does not want to commit the time and money that a dinner &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; an activity might require, so just dinner is just as good in my book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;So, there you have it. If you ever wish to set me up with anyone (to which I am amenable), and he asks anything, you can let him know the above two items.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's another guy that's kind of out there for whom I have low expectations of anything happening (given past encounters with said gentleman). I leave myself room for a little bit of hope and the door open should he choose to pursue anything, but I'm going to leave the ball in his court and let your little minds run wild with scenarios. I will say that one night as we were hanging out (and he knew I was getting over being sick) he brought me a blanket so I would stay warm. Small but thoughtful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I'm such a cheeseball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. The first song lyrics were obvious, but if you can find the second set of lyrics, I'll come up with a fabulous prize for the winner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-3447156599002492429?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/3447156599002492429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=3447156599002492429&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3447156599002492429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/3447156599002492429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/01/lets-talk-about-dates-baby.html' title='Let&apos;s Talk About Dates, Baby'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4256482452589545204.post-1388382675865376564</id><published>2009-01-19T15:20:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T15:42:13.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Things</title><content type='html'>In no particular order, this is my brain lately:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The horrible reality is that life isn't always what I think should be fair. Why did I stay and people with families go?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Listening to Donny Osmond sing "How Deep is Your Love" is really awesome.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I think I'm funnier (more funny?) when I'm around my roommates. They keep me on my toes - or sometimes on my knees on the stairs - and make me seem wittier (more witty?) than I really am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had no idea there were other people that see some people's resemblance to Gollum.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Movies about pets are not supposed to make you cry. Another thing that isn't fair.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting back from a movie, just to jump into a different car for a Diet Coke/Water run to Sonic is always a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm really excited to see "He's Just Not That Into You".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Movies, for me, are meant to entertain. You will find that it is very rare that I dislike a movie.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Detroit is actually in Maryland. How do I know this? Because my roommate said so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had no idea blue suits were popular.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got called out for only knowing what an Aston Martin is because of the Bond movies. So what if I'm not a car aficionado? I know a beautiful fast car when I see one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Someday soon when I have the brainpower (and the motivation) you'll get a real update on my life including funny date stories. For now, I hope this satisfies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4256482452589545204-1388382675865376564?l=karenspencer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/feeds/1388382675865376564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4256482452589545204&amp;postID=1388382675865376564&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1388382675865376564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4256482452589545204/posts/default/1388382675865376564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karenspencer.blogspot.com/2009/01/some-things.html' title='Some Things'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04216874175160692276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8Hy56kbvB2M/Sa4CeTjXxLI/AAAAAAAAAyA/L_gWNApjVKw/S220/IMG_6774.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
