<?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-1737748794124639664</id><updated>2011-12-02T06:53:45.188-08:00</updated><category term='facebook'/><category term='drama'/><category term='Scuba'/><category term='The Tudors'/><category term='Ornaments'/><category term='China'/><category term='Family'/><category term='beach'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='Hurricane Ike'/><category term='Hallmark'/><category term='Dog'/><category term='Parody'/><category term='Postcards'/><category term='WWII'/><category term='Chihuahua'/><category term='Goals'/><category term='Coca-Cola'/><category term='Military'/><category term='Games'/><category term='TokyoPenShop'/><category term='Crafts'/><category term='Survivor'/><category term='Travel'/><category term='Being cheap'/><category term='Albuquerque'/><category term='Shopping'/><category term='Beauty'/><category term='Airline'/><category term='Welcome back'/><category term='Writing'/><category term='Money'/><category term='Humor'/><category term='Nerd'/><category term='Laptop'/><category term='watches'/><category term='Home'/><category term='Craig Ferguson'/><category term='Palau'/><category term='Television'/><category term='Car'/><category term='Education'/><category term='News'/><category term='Books'/><title type='text'>SecretEeyore</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-7595712506170358102</id><published>2011-03-04T15:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T16:09:49.440-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='watches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beach'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Being cheap'/><title type='text'>Beach Watches</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lxsmvfeaM7I/TXF_R71L6rI/AAAAAAAAAIY/RUYu5_xFqKk/s1600/shop4techionwatch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lxsmvfeaM7I/TXF_R71L6rI/AAAAAAAAAIY/RUYu5_xFqKk/s400/shop4techionwatch.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580381359384029874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted to share a great deal for all those cheapskates out there (like myself).  I am one of those secret couponers, and love MyPoints.com and QuickRewards.net.  I just like getting something for nothing....&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ever since I went on vacation last December I have wanted a beach watch.  I know this is a weird concept for some.  But basically, it is a watch that does not have a metal casing to get a thousand degrees in the sun, and that will tell you what time it is so you will not miss happy hour at the bar.  When I was in Fiji I missed out on two awesome (and free) opportunities to make a shell necklace and weave a palm-frond basket at 2PM.  Apparently I am a really bad judge of 2PM from the location of the sun and the casting of my shadow, because I was late for both.  I found a watch in the duty free catalog on the plane that was $40.  A little much for the three times I would use this in a year.  Today I found one online for $2.51, and free shipping.  And so I jumped.  And now I am sharing, in case anyone else is needing of such an item.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;http://qrdeals.com/2011/03/waterproof-ion-watch-2-51-shipped-after-coupon/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-7595712506170358102?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/7595712506170358102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2011/03/beach-watches.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/7595712506170358102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/7595712506170358102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2011/03/beach-watches.html' title='Beach Watches'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lxsmvfeaM7I/TXF_R71L6rI/AAAAAAAAAIY/RUYu5_xFqKk/s72-c/shop4techionwatch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-1173694667943849657</id><published>2011-01-17T21:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T22:02:50.932-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Postcards'/><title type='text'>The Lowly Postcard</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I am a total sucker for a handwritten letter or thank-you note or even the lowly postcard.  From previous posts on my blog, I think you guys know that I tend to spend a lot of time and money at Hallmark.  In college I discovered Papyrus, the ritzier version, and I have recently discovered &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TokyoPenShop&lt;/span&gt;.com for all of my fine pen needs....&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I buy postcards, though, I rarely send them.  They aren't of the  "Aloha from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hawai'i&lt;/span&gt;!",  "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bula&lt;/span&gt; from Fiji!", "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bonjour&lt;/span&gt; from Paris!", variety - they are the beautiful pictures of beaches and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bures&lt;/span&gt; and Eiffel Towers taken with a much better camera lens, by someone who may have had a photography lesson in his life.  I save them in a big stack for no apparent reason...it is just clutter.  But pretty clutter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was recently introduced to a business called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;CellPhonePostcards&lt;/span&gt;.com that takes pictures you have taken yourself (from your own camera?!) and prints it on a postcard and sends it for you - and the first ten are free.  I don't know how their business model is successful, but I am running with it.  It is kind of funny to think that the postman has seen me in a bikini next to my sandcastle that I helped build in Fiji...but it has got me to send postcards.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/TTUpYeJExzI/AAAAAAAAAHc/XUrm8Nhl7X8/s320/DSC02617.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563398415070840626" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sent my first ten (free ones) out the first day I stumbled across this site.  I am now thinking about what to do with all of those other postcards I have collected in my various travels.  Maybe make a scrapbook?  It would have been great had I had the forethought to send them to myself with the stamp of the country from which they came, then I would have an even better collection, but I didn't.  Or I could not have been selfish and actually sent them to people I care about....but postcards do get a bad wrap sometimes.  They are kind of like the 'Na-na-na-na-na!' of all correspondence.  "Wish you were here!"......sometimes can be misinterpreted as "Wish you were here, chump?"  (If you were wondering, I sent the postcards to the guy I vacationed with so he'd have some of the pictures off of my camera, and it wouldn't be like *that*.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, I was impressed with the site, and wanted to share.  :-)  I vow to make a better use of my postcard clutter this year, and also be better with mailing other things like thank-you notes, sympathy cards, birthday cards, and anything else where I can use my new favorite pen.  :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-1173694667943849657?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/1173694667943849657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2011/01/lowly-postcard.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1173694667943849657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1173694667943849657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2011/01/lowly-postcard.html' title='The Lowly Postcard'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/TTUpYeJExzI/AAAAAAAAAHc/XUrm8Nhl7X8/s72-c/DSC02617.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-1938282817349244964</id><published>2011-01-12T00:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T01:32:09.395-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TokyoPenShop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nerd'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Welcome back'/><title type='text'>A New Beginning Deserves a New Kind of Pen</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I know I left abruptly for a year there.....things in my life are going pretty well at this juncture.  I have had a lot of cool vacations since then, and funny things have happened to me.  I just wanted to say that I am coming back....for real this time.  No joke.  :-D&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just wanted to let you in on a secret obsession of mine while I'm writing this re-introduction.   And it scream nerd-alert!  I was always the kid who liked it the end of summer when KMart would start stocking the back-to-school supplies (I was a good student and teachers liked me), and it has carried over into my adulthood.  I have developed a serious love affair with Japanese gel pens.  The gel pens that are offered in the USA are too think to keep accurate checkbook records, so the true stationary connoisseur's choice are those meant for the Asian market because of their intricate and complicated kanji.  I give you this, my dearest blog readers  http://www.tokyopenshop.com   This is Nirvana for office supply geeks such as myself!!!!  The Uniball Signo RT .38 is my new favorite pen (in all kinds of cool colors!)- and it is $1.50 - that easily trumps my old favorite Dr.Grip pen at $7.50.  They have so many cool things on this site.  It makes me want to work for this company and/or learn Japanese.  Look at the cute flashcards in the shapes of rams and ducks (I bought the polar bear one!), look at the funky clips that replace those ugly bull clips in the shapes of pigs and planes and strawberries (I bought the hippos!).  Look at this site and you will wonder why office supply stores in America haven't caught on that cuteness is an important factor?  Every Japanese person knows the innate value of all things cute....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enjoy the romp through the TokyoPenShop's specialties.  I am so happy to support this great company who ships fast and are just a wonderful business - that happens to be based in the good old US of A.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/TS1yzbse-II/AAAAAAAAAHU/KGySgIwE0pk/s320/clips_LRG.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561227342805661826" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/TS1ytll27pI/AAAAAAAAAHM/xLBhLDvh0cw/s320/flashcards_LRG.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561227242383011474" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/TS1yk0Bw_tI/AAAAAAAAAHE/nnV2jP_vgvQ/s320/signoRT_LRG.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561227091639336658" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-1938282817349244964?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/1938282817349244964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-beginning-deserves-new-kind-of-pen.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1938282817349244964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1938282817349244964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-beginning-deserves-new-kind-of-pen.html' title='A New Beginning Deserves a New Kind of Pen'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/TS1yzbse-II/AAAAAAAAAHU/KGySgIwE0pk/s72-c/clips_LRG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-1054651575552292996</id><published>2009-09-15T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T12:16:06.000-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laptop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Car'/><title type='text'>Updates On My Life</title><content type='html'>I know I have been MIA for much too long.  I don't really have an excuse - there has been a hell of a lot to talk about!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Firstly I am officially an adult and purchased a brand new car - a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kia&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sorrento&lt;/span&gt; on the first of September.  That was a stressful day - my little Ford Escort was dying a slow and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;undignified&lt;/span&gt; death, and my parents were tired of me complaining about it.  So my mom flew down from Albuquerque to help me in the wasp's nest that is a new car lot - and I signed the paperwork (surprisingly) on my own credit.  That was something that I didn't quite understand: I have beautiful credit yes, but I make very little dough - much of which goes to my rent.  If I were them I wouldn't approve myself without a co-signer, but they trust me.  I guess I should learn to trust myself...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then later that week, on the 6th, my laptop died.  I kept getting an error message that was a blue screen on the start-up, and wouldn't even go into Windows.  I must admit I haven't really been treating it that well for the latter part of these few weeks because it kept freezing and seizing.  I was one PMS-y day away from throwing it against the wall.  This is the 2nd PC I have had in 4 years.  I think they should last a bit longer than that.... so I went to Best Buy and after very little debate bought (read: financed) a MacBook Pro.  I love it, and it is so easy to use and intuitive!  I wish I had it sooner!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So within a week I had to buy a new car and new laptop.  I am doing my best to bring us out of this recession!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also transferred from the International base of flying to the Domestic base of flying.  I have been having a really great time with a lot of fun crews and exploring new cities...I went to Salt Lake City twice already, a beautiful place that I hadn't ever been to.  It actually reminds me of home a lot...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also I started a book club - one of my Life Goals - and the first meeting is tonight.  I am so excited, and I actually think I did a pretty good job of book selection this time - there is lots to discuss in "Portrait of an Unknown Woman" - the role of women in society, the father/daughter relationship, Church and power, etc.  Yay!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That about catches everyone up.  I really need to stay on top on my blog!  There should be a poke option like on FaceBook....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-1054651575552292996?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/1054651575552292996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/09/updates-on-my-life.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1054651575552292996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1054651575552292996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/09/updates-on-my-life.html' title='Updates On My Life'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-5201974681997444543</id><published>2009-08-04T17:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T18:28:33.834-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hurricane Ike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallmark'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ornaments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Christmas in July (or August, if you prefer)</title><content type='html'>Um...I love Christmas. I made a wreath a few years ago that is obviously Christmas themed (red and green ribbon and pine cones?), but I keep it on my door year round. I think it is an appropriate enough allusion to the bombardment of Christmas stuff that you will find upon entering my place. This is mostly because of the sheer volume of stuff I have purchased at Hallmark. You see, I collect Snoopy ornaments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366269365723647570" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SnjRjnEEzlI/AAAAAAAAAFo/P_Yq8wVldAY/s320/DSC01947.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few of the 2009 ornaments from the Hallmark premier in July. Every year Hallmark issues 10-15 Snoopy ornaments that I feel the need to anticipate, covet, buy, horde, and then try to find a place to store for eternity. I have been doing this since 2004. But in addition to every Snoopy ornament, I also get the Gone With the Wind ornaments (one of my favorite movies), and whatever else catches my fancy. I have an addiction. And a storage problem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366275319115485442" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SnjW-JLTEQI/AAAAAAAAAGo/CC0NjX_2SYo/s320/DSC01949.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do have a storage closet - that is &lt;strong&gt;tiny&lt;/strong&gt;, and holds only my excess luggage, winter coats, vacuum, and my Christmas tree, along with a few large &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RubberMaid&lt;/span&gt; bins with the ornaments in them. I really need more bins, however, because when Hurricane Ike hit Houston last year, along with the terrible destruction to my bathroom (the ceiling collapsed over my shower - making it unusable for weeks...) there was massive water damage to my closet. The real kicker about this was that me, being a flight attendant, I was picking up trips to get the hell out of my apartment (and into a shower) and didn't realize the water damage was slowly &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;creeping&lt;/span&gt; into my storage closet - and into my huge ornament collection. When this realization &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;occurred&lt;/span&gt;, I was almost inconsolable. Honestly, I really didn't lose many - for most were in the plastic bins and protected from the slow water drip - and when compared to those who lost their entire homes on Galveston or the Bolivar Peninsula, I am very fortunate. But even still, being from New Mexico, and having this be my first hurricane experience, I was not a happy girl. And I lost my Christmas tree! Post script to this - my insurance company &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;USAA&lt;/span&gt; handled this very well unlike most insurance nightmares I keep hearing about on the news. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366275321020728402" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SnjW-QRixFI/AAAAAAAAAGw/ZTDfhb115xs/s320/DSC01952.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And, really, how could &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Secreteeyore&lt;/span&gt; pass this one up? The Ornament Debut is October 10-11 and the Open House at Hallmark is November 7-8; I have my calendar already marked. More Snoopy stuff to come...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-5201974681997444543?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/5201974681997444543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/08/christmas-in-july-or-august-if-you.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5201974681997444543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5201974681997444543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/08/christmas-in-july-or-august-if-you.html' title='Christmas in July (or August, if you prefer)'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SnjRjnEEzlI/AAAAAAAAAFo/P_Yq8wVldAY/s72-c/DSC01947.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-5253206123563440859</id><published>2009-07-31T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T18:47:28.157-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Television'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Tudors'/><title type='text'>The Tudors</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SnN4SkgQ8XI/AAAAAAAAAFg/ojNj3iwcx04/s1600-h/tudors.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364763841560375666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SnN4SkgQ8XI/AAAAAAAAAFg/ojNj3iwcx04/s320/tudors.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you who haven't seen The Tudors on Showtime, let me tell you, you are missing some good stuff. I have become a little obsessed with this series, so much so that I watched the first two season on DVD within a week. That was about 20 hours of sitting-on-the-edge-of-the-sofa-entertainment. Jonathon Rhys Meyers plays an amazing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Henry&lt;/span&gt; VIII, and Natalie Dormer (pictured above) is his Queen Anne. The costumes, the music, the sets, the exteriors, the s-e-x! I didn't realize I had such an interest in this part of British history, and now that I know, there is so much to learn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the beginning of this year I read Philipa Gregory's &lt;em&gt;The Other Boleyn Girl&lt;/em&gt; about Anne Boleyn's sister, Mary. I read that within a few days. Her writing style is amazing, and I have come to adore historical fiction because of Gregory. And then, non-revving to Japan at the end of May I started watching The Tudors because it's part of the 777's entertainment system, and the first four episodes are available. I was amazed. I wanted more. After I got home from my trip, I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BN&lt;/span&gt;.com and bought the first two seasons immediately (luckily there was a buy two DVDs, get one free sale going on, so I also got 'The Duchess' for free...). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow, I also did some research and found out that I had started reading Gregory's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Tudor&lt;/span&gt; series out of order, as she started with &lt;em&gt;The Constant Princess, &lt;/em&gt;about Katharine of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Aragon&lt;/span&gt;. I started to read this book next, and learned a lot about her. The Showtime series paints her as a pushover, but Gregory doesn't - she, as the daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, comes from a line of warring spirits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next book in the series (after &lt;em&gt;The Other Boleyn Girl&lt;/em&gt;) is &lt;em&gt;The Boleyn &lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Inheritance, &lt;/em&gt;about Henry's search for a wife after Jane Seymour's death. Henry is entombed next to Jane, and is said to favor her as his best and most loved wife, because she actually bore him a son; but she dies within a couple weeks of the birth. The way this is handled in the Showtime series is tragic. Henry does eventually go through three more wives after Jane, one of which he beheads (Kitty Howard)...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Right now I am reading &lt;em&gt;The Queen's Fool&lt;/em&gt;, and I must say that it isn't on par with the rest of Gregory's novels. I think it is because it is through a made-up narrator - a girl named Hannah Greene who is a jester in the court of Queen Mary (Henry's daughter by Katharine of Aragon). I also find the plot between Queen Mary and Princess Elizabeth annoying, and I am actually not certain if I will read &lt;em&gt;The Virgin's Lover&lt;/em&gt; (about Queen Elizabeth) because of it. The Showtime series portrays Lady Mary as such a pious and piteous creature so desperate for her father's love, I can't help but take her side in the novels.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;The Showtime series has opened up my eyes to many things. For instance, I never knew about the Pilgrimage of Grace before it was a major plot in season three. Speaking of season three, seeing as how it isn't on DVD yet, and I don't have cable, this took a heck of a lot of patience with watchthetudors.com. I told you I was obsessed. Also, I suppose I knew, but it never really sunk in, that had Henry had a boy with Katharine (which he did, but died in infancy) he never would have tried like a madman to have sons with woman after woman, and the Reformation would not have taken hold in Britain as it did. Henry was a second son, and was actually being schooled for the Church before his elder brother Arthur died and he became King instead. He even wrote pamphlets against Luther along with Sir Thomas More in his early reign. He needed an heir, and Anne manipulated that into being the greatest proponent for the Reformation, and ensured her and her family's rise. I am just spellbound by the inner-workings of this...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Another of the key-figures in this is Sir Thomas More. I cannot begin to tell you how much his story touched me. I don't remember him in any of Gregory's books, but maybe then I wasn't paying attention. But in the series, season two, the episode where he is martyred is my favorite. Is that morbid? It is really a turning point for Henry because More was his best friend and his closest advisor, and he was executed for not pledging an oath saying that his marriage to Anne was valid and that Henry was the head of the Church in England, and not the Pope. I found, at Half-Price Books, a book by Vanora Bennett called &lt;em&gt;Portrait of an Unknown Woman&lt;/em&gt; about More's family that I can't wait to read. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;On my first trip to London, almost three years ago, I went to the Tower of London. I haven't been back since, but I am inspired to go again. Since my visit they have installed a tribute to Queen Anne and Queen Katharine Howard, and others who were beheaded there - a kind of glass pillow looking thing with an indentation like someone is sleeping on it. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-5253206123563440859?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/5253206123563440859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/07/tudors.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5253206123563440859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5253206123563440859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/07/tudors.html' title='The Tudors'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SnN4SkgQ8XI/AAAAAAAAAFg/ojNj3iwcx04/s72-c/tudors.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-2260776415391239498</id><published>2009-07-08T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T22:05:04.200-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WWII'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Survivor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scuba'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Palau'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Airline'/><title type='text'>My First Big Scuba Trip</title><content type='html'>For those of you who have been following my scuba lesson adventures, I just wanted to give everyone a little update on what I have actually done with my certificate - or "C-card" as it's called. I spent two lovely weeks in the South Pacific - a week in Guam and a week in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Palau&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Aaaahhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356224107573112130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUhcoVHbUI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Ow18cKKy-Ao/s320/DSC01813.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Palau&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; today is probably most well known as a place where they filmed the television series "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Survivor&lt;/span&gt;" twice. While Todd and I were there they were in the middle of filming of a Filipino Survivor and wrapping up French Survivor as well. I can certainly see why, it makes for some amazing and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;breathtaking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; background shots, and it is so isolated. Even as tourists, Todd and I were the only ones walking around. We went to a famous Indian restaurant there and were the only ones there. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Romantically&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, he said he reserved the whole place for us. More like he reserved the entire chain of islands for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356223193390661234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUgnavCPnI/AAAAAAAAAFA/CrAIxRa7Ocg/s320/DSC01705.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back during the war years, however, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Palau&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was the site of some major battles, as was most of the South Pacific. The Battle of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Peleliu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was a tragic story - the US had thought they would secure this little airstrip in a matter of days, but instead the Japanese dug in their heels and the battle went on for more than two months. This would become a trend (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Iwo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Jima&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and Okinawa have similar stories). It has become a very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;controversial&lt;/span&gt; battle because of the lack of strategic value - the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;airstrip&lt;/span&gt; was never actually used for the attack on the Philippines as was intended, and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;immensely&lt;/span&gt; high casualty toll - more than 9500. When considering the number of men actually involved for this little island, the Battle of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Peleliu&lt;/span&gt; has the highest casualty rate in any battle fought in all of the Pacific Theater. The picture above was taken at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Etpison&lt;/span&gt; Museum and shows some of the artifacts that have washed ashore from the battles. I have always been fascinated with these kinds of things (as well I should - I am a Navy brat, and was born in Japan...) and this place is loaded with history. In a related note, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Palau&lt;/span&gt; has been in the news recently as the possible relocation point of Guantanamo detainees...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356223186251881266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUgnAJBGzI/AAAAAAAAAE4/vlQXXXr52lo/s320/DSC01672.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of history, this picture is of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;reconstruction&lt;/span&gt; of the traditional male meeting house, called a '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;bai&lt;/span&gt;'. The native &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Palauans&lt;/span&gt; were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;matriarchal&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;matrilineal&lt;/span&gt;, and were fishermen mostly, for their sheer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;availability&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356223208370601138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUgoSih_LI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/1DMEd66otZ8/s320/DSC01783.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For being as small as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Palau&lt;/span&gt; is, it has its own brewing company. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;What&lt;/span&gt;??? Hell yeah!!! Red Rooster Brewing Company has four options: Amber, Mango Wheat, Dark and Stout. We partook of many at the famous bar Kramer's. And it was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUepdLviEI/AAAAAAAAAEw/pt30wLEEJsA/s1600-h/DSC01727.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356221029384423490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUepdLviEI/AAAAAAAAAEw/pt30wLEEJsA/s320/DSC01727.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Palau&lt;/span&gt; is known for its large clam shells, and this is me at a clam farm. We actually later &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;snorkeled&lt;/span&gt; out to a place where you can skin dive down and sit into one the size of a lawn chair (those were obviously dead of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;course&lt;/span&gt;). I did see some alive while scuba diving, and they are amazing. Their lips are many different colors all at once - it is amazing to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356223201708092434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUgn5uELBI/AAAAAAAAAFI/qkajmKbfzl4/s320/DSC01736.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture makes me laugh, because the size of the vegetation here is like something a dinosaur would eat - it is the place that time forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUeoyACgpI/AAAAAAAAAEo/XUlv1D0JyIU/s1600-h/DSC01819.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356221017792610962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUeoyACgpI/AAAAAAAAAEo/XUlv1D0JyIU/s320/DSC01819.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This picture is from Milky Way Cove. I took this on our kayak tour of the Rock Islands. When we sailed in to this little grotto my breath was taken away. The water is a completely different color than anything I have ever seen in my life, luminescent. Our guide skin dived down to the bottom and got a bucket of the sand so we could rub it all over ourselves - it is said to hold magical properties for the skin. It smelled like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;phosphorus&lt;/span&gt;, so I could see why. We then jumped in and splashed around like children for a while. It is one of my favorite memories!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Onto the scuba diving. Todd and I did three days of diving, two dives a day, for a total of six dives. Each dive was vastly different. I can see why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Palau&lt;/span&gt; is such a diver's Mecca. The first time I did a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;back roll&lt;/span&gt; off of the dive boat and let the air out of my buoyancy control device (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;bcd&lt;/span&gt;) and started sinking into the deep blue Pacific, I must admit I was scared to death. There is so much to remember! What hose goes where, which button does what, etc. And there were things that we were doing that I had never even heard of before - like reef hooking. So after our descent - to 70 feet! I had only gone down 20 feet in training! - we swim around for a bit and then approach this sheer drop-off that apparently goes down for thousands of feet more. We then clip ourselves to a cord that has a metal hook at the end and then hook that end to the coral and put some air into our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;bcd&lt;/span&gt; so we were a bit more floaty and we just hang out and watch the goings on of this drop-off. This drop off was actually one side of a trench that was something of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;superhighway&lt;/span&gt; for all kinds of schooling fish - and the sharks who eat them! I saw sharks on my first dive! Oh my god! I was so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;friggin&lt;/span&gt;' excited and hyped up on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;adrenaline&lt;/span&gt; I guess I forgot to be scared. It was so amazing! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other dives were as varied as the day is long. One we did was called a 'wall' dive which means we descended next to a sheer cliff that goes down thousands of feet and let the current move us slowly by all the different corals: branch, brain, cabbage and the others I don't know the name of. I saw so many &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;tropical&lt;/span&gt; fish in such vibrant colors, and sea stars, and eel. I saw sea turtles twice - slowly making his way past me without a care in the world. Another dive we swam up to a sunken ship grown over with all types of coral and teeming with fish. I cannot believe how much there is to see out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUeoQanqwI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Uj2y15OIMBA/s1600-h/DSC01658.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356221008777292546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUeoQanqwI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Uj2y15OIMBA/s320/DSC01658.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is a photo of one of the famous Rock Islands of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;Palau&lt;/span&gt;. You can see how the ocean is slowly eating away at the base to make the iconic mushroom shape. Some of the islands I saw whilst kayaking were so amazingly structured - it looked like they were about to teeter off into the ocean, for the bases had been washed away to almost nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUeoOZgiOI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/8tGAjR4GvY0/s1600-h/DSC01586.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356221008235759842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUeoOZgiOI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/8tGAjR4GvY0/s320/DSC01586.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the famous "Survivor" beach, where most of the filming took place. We had lunch here the first day during our surface interval between dives. While we were motoring out here I began to recognize the shape of the islands and knew where we were before the dive master even told us. I can't believe I have been to a place so damned remote that Survivor has been filmed there!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;Palau&lt;/span&gt; is an amazingly beautiful place. It is so untouched, so virgin. I cannot wait to go back to the South Pacific and explore more of these islands - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;specifically&lt;/span&gt; Yap, which is known for their large money stones and manta ray, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;Chuuk&lt;/span&gt; (also known as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;Truk&lt;/span&gt;), which is known for the vast quantities of sunken WWII airplanes. I can see that these unspoiled little gems hidden away won't stay that way for long, and I need to see them before they get any more developed. I remember vividly while walking to dinner one night, seeing a local drinking the last bit out of a plastic juice bottle and then throwing it off of the bridge into the ocean. My jaw dropped. And though Todd and I were, as it seemed, two of the few American tourists, the Japanese come there in droves. And I saw them doing some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;questionable&lt;/span&gt; things while snorkeling, such as chumming the fish with bread (a big no-no in a protected environment), and taking away some coral and shells. It makes my heart hurt, but is also very inspiring to me to see all these things soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-2260776415391239498?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/2260776415391239498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-first-big-scuba-trip.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/2260776415391239498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/2260776415391239498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-first-big-scuba-trip.html' title='My First Big Scuba Trip'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SlUhcoVHbUI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Ow18cKKy-Ao/s72-c/DSC01813.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-271803014534155320</id><published>2009-07-06T20:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T20:23:39.854-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><title type='text'>I'm alive</title><content type='html'>Yes, I am.  I just haven't had much to say, I suppose....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to let everyone know about a great blog I stumbled upon, however - At Home With Books.  It is really inspiring to me - basically something I want to turn my own blog into.  Hope you all enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://athomewithbooks.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://athomewithbooks.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-271803014534155320?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/271803014534155320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-alive.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/271803014534155320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/271803014534155320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-alive.html' title='I&apos;m alive'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-7856046065088631481</id><published>2009-05-04T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T12:37:11.357-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Television'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Albuquerque'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Craig Ferguson'/><title type='text'>For the Love of Craig</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sf89iEsqh6I/AAAAAAAAADw/0_8ibeewiks/s1600-h/DSC01509.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332048139415881634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sf89iEsqh6I/AAAAAAAAADw/0_8ibeewiks/s400/DSC01509.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My celebrity crush is Craig Ferguson. I am in love and lust with this man. He makes me laugh with his dirty sense of humor, devilish grin, and Scottish brogue every night. And, we seem to share something in common. A love of the same city - Albuquerque. I grew up there. He visited there, I am assuming for some stand-up gigs, and sees the humor in the small, quaintness of my hometown. One night, a few years ago, he was interviewing Neil Patrick Harris, another of Albuquerque's native sons, and they were talking about the wonders of my city and Craig brought up that Albuquerque has this little hole-in-the-wall Rattlesnake Museum in Old Town.  &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332048148099570594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sf89ilDBG6I/AAAAAAAAAD4/WTxXd5pvr40/s400/DSC01510.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since that time, the Rattlesnake Museum in Albuquerque has been an ongoing joke for Craig - and subsequently myself.  I now live in Houston for my job with Continental, but I go back to visit my family often as I can.  This time, I decided to make a visit to the Rattlesnake Museum.  I was not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt;.  For $3.50 I was let into a very, very small set of rooms with dozens of terrariums with all kinds of snakes, lizards, amphibians.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332048150751405218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sf89iu7Q5KI/AAAAAAAAAEA/K4uUKSsvfs8/s400/DSC01524.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This white snake is a rarity, but not actually an albino, because it doesn't have pink eyes.  Weird, huh?&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332048153713364306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sf89i59czVI/AAAAAAAAAEI/Wc6eNovRoNU/s400/DSC01525.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another of the residents of the Museum.  I have never been especially afraid of snakes, but my sister still tells the story of the when she and my father saw Indiana Jones together and the cobra was about to strike Indy and my father cried out in the theater embarrassing her to death.  I am surprised that he wanted to go inside with me!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I happened to mention that Craig Ferguson love led me to the Museum to the curator, and he said, "Well, you must know about the mug then!?  We're completely sold out, and the waiting list is a mile long."  I had been hoping to buy the mug - a guest who had filmed a movie in Albuquerque brought Craig a mug from the Museum a few weeks ago and he has used it on air ever since.  It is in the shape of a coiled rattlesnake and the handle is the tail, in a word, it is awesome, but I decided not to put myself on the waiting list.  I did buy a magnet to add to my magnet collection from around the world, however.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Despite the fact that the Rattlesnake Museum (and Albuquerque in general) is the butt of many of Craig's good-natured jokes, I found it to be very educational and a great way to spend part of my day.    &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-7856046065088631481?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/7856046065088631481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/05/for-love-of-craig.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/7856046065088631481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/7856046065088631481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/05/for-love-of-craig.html' title='For the Love of Craig'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sf89iEsqh6I/AAAAAAAAADw/0_8ibeewiks/s72-c/DSC01509.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-773133290802596396</id><published>2009-04-20T16:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T17:57:21.736-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Airline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>The Squawk Heard Round the Plane</title><content type='html'>I have a really loud laugh. It is hard to control, especially when something is totally ridiculous. Well, this afternoon I came in from Paris, working with a great crew.  Anyhow, this being Paris (long and fancy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BusinessFirst&lt;/span&gt; flight), there is an International Service Manager (ISM) and he did a quick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;briefing&lt;/span&gt; before we started the trip in Houston about keeping it down in the galley - &lt;em&gt;especially&lt;/em&gt; during crew breaks (we are selfish and want an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;undisturbed&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nap time&lt;/span&gt;). Not a problem. Pretty standard - don't be a Mrs. Happy Galley Pants and click every latch and slam every door on every cart while your fellow crew members are on their naps. Be respectful. I got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, I didn't get it on the way back, however. You see I was working with this really awesome crew, one of the best in recent memory, in fact! I met a cool guy named Joe and we really got along well and seem to have the same sense of humor - we were laughing a lot. Well we were babysitting the back galley while some of the others were on their break. In hindsight, this was probably a Squawk waiting to happen. A call light went off, and I said "Not it" because I had gotten the one prior to that one. His turn. That's how it works. So he took a cup of water to the call light and on his way back to the galley he picked up this random, stray leaf of newspaper just hanging out in the middle of the aisle. He had been mercilessly been making fun of me on the flight to Paris for sorting out the newspapers out of the trash to be recycled, so I asked him if he wanted to recycle it. He rolled his eyes and was like "Yeah," and proceeded to crumple it up into a tight wad and shoot it into the corner trashcan for three points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get up to go to the lav, and this girl - maybe late teens, early twenties- hangs out into the aisle and flags me down. She was like "That newspaper was set there for a reason; I threw up on the floor and it was covering up my vomit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. It was really hard to keep a straight face in this situation. Many things were going through my mind: 1) Gross! 2) You are old enough to vomit into a bag or the lav 3) Joe just touched your vomit cover! I really haven't the slightest idea what I told this girl, because I high-tailed it to the back galley to tell Joe what he just (unknowingly) did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe: "You're shitting me." I shake my head trying to stifle laughter. The look on his face is priceless: disgust, confusion, but still seeing the humor in the complete absurdity of it all. I let out one high-pitched bird like Squawk - seriously on accident. I was trying to keep it down. It was a funny moment....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within 0.2 seconds the ISM comes roaring in the back galley and was like "THAT'S not going to fly! That (loud noise[Squawk]) can be heard five rows into the cabin!" in that imposing leadership-like condescending whisper. He must have been wearing speed skates or something. He really looked like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;caricature&lt;/span&gt; of himself, all red-faced and vein-popping. Of course we explode into a fit of giggles once he leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that point on, Joe started miming a crane and Squawking (not as loud as me) for a few cheap laughs at my expense. For a guy who picked up vomit in his bare hands without knowing it, I'll let that one slide.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-773133290802596396?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/773133290802596396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/04/squawk-heard-round-plane.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/773133290802596396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/773133290802596396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/04/squawk-heard-round-plane.html' title='The Squawk Heard Round the Plane'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-3073066033496873919</id><published>2009-04-17T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T13:55:18.475-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coca-Cola'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home'/><title type='text'>Coke and the Asparagus Steamer</title><content type='html'>I am a Coca-Cola addict. Agent &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;DragonFly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; can attest to the severity of said addiction. I am very picky - Coke Zero? Zero about sums it up. Diet Coke tastes gross. Mexican Coke? No, thank you! Pure, American, Coca-Cola in the red can with the white ribbon, please! Actually there is a hierarchy to the taste of Coke, as well. First comes the supreme king out of a glass bottle - but this is hard to find and pretty expensive. Then out of a can - and I love the sound of that pop-top. Then comes fountain soda. Then comes out of a plastic bottle 20 oz., 1L, or 2L. This is seriously the bottom of the barrel in Coke drinking quality - there is something &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; off with the flavor and the fizz evaporates &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;exponentially&lt;/span&gt; faster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That being said, a little over three years ago, Coke introduced &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;MyCokeRewards&lt;/span&gt;.com&lt;/span&gt;, a program that rewards frequent Coke drinkers with free stuff. Of course, I was one of the first to start redeeming the codes under the bottle caps and on the 12 and 24 pack cartons via text message and on their website. Over these past three years I have gotten 2 tee shirts with various Coke logos, a cooler with zipper pulls in the shape of Coke bottles, 4 Melamine plates with the Sprite logo on it, a Coke &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;key chain&lt;/span&gt;, a Coke Santa Christmas ornament, a model of the Coke 16 wheeler &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;delivery&lt;/span&gt; truck, and a Coke lunchbox, among other things. But last month was the ultimate in rewards arrived in the mail. An asparagus steamer! At 1475 points, it was a little steep (considering that a 20 oz. bottle is 3 points) but I am in happy homemaker love with the thing. I don't really see the connection between Coke and asparagus, but I love that I got it free for drinking my favorite beverage! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325764379733781506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SejqfHt17AI/AAAAAAAAADo/Hy90HOH6wBo/s400/asparagus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-3073066033496873919?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/3073066033496873919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/04/coke-and-asparagus-steamer.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/3073066033496873919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/3073066033496873919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/04/coke-and-asparagus-steamer.html' title='Coke and the Asparagus Steamer'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SejqfHt17AI/AAAAAAAAADo/Hy90HOH6wBo/s72-c/asparagus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-704209144429940158</id><published>2009-04-07T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T16:12:44.221-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crafts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home'/><title type='text'>My Idea Books</title><content type='html'>I am a seriously awesome homemaker in the making, I just don't have the home yet.  In middle school, my favorite classes were the Home Economics courses - the ones with titles like Threads and Breads, and Foods and Fabrics.  I was also the teacher's aide for my middle school Home &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ec&lt;/span&gt; teacher, which meant that I did the dishes and kitchen prep for her classes and got class credit - and p.s. I loved it!  My high school did not have a Future Homemakers' of America club, or else I would have joined, I am positive.  I knit, crochet, tat, embroider, sew, bake, cook, and am in the middle of a quilt.  This is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; my mother's influence on me - she's always doing something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I have always been an avid magazine reader and recipe ripper.  If I see a cool recipe, or a pretty flower arrangement, or a beautifully painted living room, I rip it out and save it.  I have been doing this since I was in middle school - and eventually I get a big pile of inspirational &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;materials&lt;/span&gt;.  Then, I break out the scissors and the waste paper basket and a blank photo album and about once a month and put it all together in what I like to call my Idea Book.  I have several completed through the years, and it is fun to look back at the change in my tastes....and my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;consistencies&lt;/span&gt; as well.  If I see a pretty picture of Jackie O, I always cut it out and include it - no matter what - she is always inspiring.  There is a recipe for a Whole Wheat and Honey &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Challah&lt;/span&gt; Bread that I cut out of a Better Homes &amp;amp; Gardens issue circa 1986 (I actually found the magazine when we moved when I was 13- I didn't cut it out when I was 3...) that I love and still make from time to time when I am home in Albuquerque and will always be a part of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;repertoire&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this actually seems to be a trend, with people making Inspiration Boards (I think the book The Secret started this...although I haven't read it...).  I had this idea all along- it's just that mine was just more domestic.  :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-704209144429940158?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/704209144429940158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-idea-books.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/704209144429940158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/704209144429940158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-idea-books.html' title='My Idea Books'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-1548794110591352784</id><published>2009-03-22T15:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T15:50:46.448-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='News'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='China'/><title type='text'>Nambé</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sca_0vuzK4I/AAAAAAAAADg/r18OjvT2ypg/s1600-h/nambe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316147323044309890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 119px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 119px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sca_0vuzK4I/AAAAAAAAADg/r18OjvT2ypg/s400/nambe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, another loss for artisan craftsmanship and the US economy - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nambe&lt;/span&gt; has moved to China.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being from New Mexico, I have always had a sort of local pride about the distinctive quality and beauty that is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nambe&lt;/span&gt;. It started out in the 1950s in a little village outside Santa Fe, and now the pieces have made it into world-class museums: from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;MOMA&lt;/span&gt;, Taiwan, Prague to Tokyo. I myself have three bowls and a pair of candlesticks. The fluidity and modernity of the design have always appealed to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;According to their website, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Nambe&lt;/span&gt; "is a company recognized worldwide for its award-winning designs and admired for its dedication to both artistic integrity and everyday functionality. Since the early '70s, gifts of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Nambé&lt;/span&gt; have been given by our governors and statesmen as symbols of New Mexico's heritage. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Nambé&lt;/span&gt; is still selected by the U.S. Department of State as gifts for foreign dignitaries and heads of state." And now, this beautiful New Mexican company born in the mountains near Los &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Alamos&lt;/span&gt; by Native American artisans has been outsourced to China. HUH???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years ago I read a book that really gave me a reality check, "A Year Without Made in China: One Family's True Life Adventure in the Global Economy" by Sara &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Bongiorni&lt;/span&gt;. She, frustrated by the headlines of jobs being shipped to China and lead paint nonsense, decided to have her own boycott of all things made in China for an entire year. This book was an amazing read, and surprisingly funny. Having two small children, it was almost impossible to find shoes for them. She had to order custom made ones from Brazil - still outsourcing, but not to China. Need a toy to give for a child's birthday party? LEGO became her stand-by, but one must read the box carefully because only about 50% are manufactured in Europe - the rest? China. Her vacuum broke. Uh-oh! Impossible to find a new one made anywhere but China. Solution? The vacuum repair man! Oh, yeah! They are still around, and need business, right?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so frustrated by this little piece of news.  I do not know how Nambe could let this happen....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-1548794110591352784?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/1548794110591352784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/03/nambe.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1548794110591352784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1548794110591352784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/03/nambe.html' title='Nambé'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sca_0vuzK4I/AAAAAAAAADg/r18OjvT2ypg/s72-c/nambe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-1872813798446084213</id><published>2009-03-10T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T20:26:09.127-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beauty'/><title type='text'>Beauty on a Budget?</title><content type='html'>So, not working for the past few weeks has led me to the realization that I need to be a little more careful where I spend my money. I love getting manicures and pedicures. The $27 for an hour and a half of pleasure and a week and a half of great looking nails is totally worth it to me. That &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;being&lt;/span&gt; said, the economy has "fallen off a cliff" according to Warren &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Buffett&lt;/span&gt;, and thus the belt-tightening must start somewhere, right? So I sat down tonight to do some at-home beauty treatments with my Avon nail polish in the hue of "Midnight Plum". The polish was something like $3.50 in the sale catalog so that's more than $20 in my pocket. Quite the deal. Or so I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sbcpfl8eGJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/OKPjGu__c3Q/s1600-h/DSC01345.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311759908245215378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sbcpfl8eGJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/OKPjGu__c3Q/s400/DSC01345.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was the end result, and I must say that I tried very hard to stay within the confines on my actual nail and avoid my cuticle and finger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SbcpPVUIpgI/AAAAAAAAADI/YbDdGuL2ho4/s1600-h/DSC01348.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311759628903163394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SbcpPVUIpgI/AAAAAAAAADI/YbDdGuL2ho4/s400/DSC01348.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another angle, and yet further proof that I am horrible at this. It looks like I am trying to paint my nails in the middle of an earthquake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311760348722120738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sbcp5O2WSCI/AAAAAAAAADY/vLzEFgMxnmM/s400/DSC01346.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my money and time is best spent paying people who are trained in these sorts of things, because apparently my BA in English didn't qualify me for this deceptively hard beauty treatment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-1872813798446084213?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/1872813798446084213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/03/beauty-on-budget.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1872813798446084213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1872813798446084213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/03/beauty-on-budget.html' title='Beauty on a Budget?'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sbcpfl8eGJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/OKPjGu__c3Q/s72-c/DSC01345.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-5083999259031289630</id><published>2009-03-08T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T19:04:10.448-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scuba'/><title type='text'>Mission: Completed</title><content type='html'>I am a proud peacock this evening - I finished my week-long course to be certified as an Open Water Diver!  I am done!  This was a really challenging for me; and I have to admit that there were times when I thought "Why on Earth am I doing this to myself?"  And please, dear reader, keep in mind that I used my vacation time to do this self-inflicted torture session.  Did I hear someone utter the word '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;masochist&lt;/span&gt;'? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did much better today than I did yesterday - I did the mask clearing on the first try - even after watching a robot freak out right before me (and yes - they made us all do it again on the third dive because apparently PADI are sadists) and I did the total mask removal, donning and full clearing also on the first try as well!  Big underwater high-fives and clapping from my dive instructors after that!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the robots wasn't able to complete dive four, her ears wouldn't equalize and she couldn't descend.  I wouldn't say I got a little pleasure out of that (but I am smirking a little); she always had that snooty look on her face when I had to be seperated away from the class to work on the mask clearing by myself.  So, technically, the slow kid didn't place last in the class!  YAY!  Go me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am unsure of when or where my first fun dive will be, but I will certainly keep you all posted!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-5083999259031289630?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/5083999259031289630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/03/mission-completed.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5083999259031289630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5083999259031289630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/03/mission-completed.html' title='Mission: Completed'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-3235635870849205009</id><published>2009-03-07T16:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T17:37:12.037-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scuba'/><title type='text'>Scuba Class for the Slow Kid</title><content type='html'>Well, I must admit that I am that "slow kid" in my scuba class. I am having a hard time dealing with this fact, because I have always been something of a teacher's pet, star pupil. Well, anyways, the schoolroom classes went okay - four to five hours each night for two nights going over basic procedures and hand signals and equipment. It did get a little annoying because there were two "junior" divers sitting in on the class who were like 12 and kept asking inane questions and we were all rolling our eyes and looking at the clock....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next two nights were at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bellaire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; pool. This was awesome. It is a heated pool. This is important. This is about the temperature of most recreational diving in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Caribbean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and Micronesia where I want to be doing ALL of my diving. Anyways...my slow kid status began to show up on the first night of these pool dives when we had to clear out a half flooded and then completely flooded mask underwater. Um, this is hard. First, you have to break the seal that the mask creates to your skin and water either trickles or gushes like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;geyser&lt;/span&gt; into your mask stunning your senses. You a) can not see b) have water going up your nose c) possibly have water in your contacts. You then have to remember to NOT PANIC!!! Which is obviously your first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;instinct&lt;/span&gt;, because you're underwater and you feel like you're drowning with water going up your nose; but you have to remember to rely on your regulator - the thingy in your mouth that provides air to you from the tank strapped to your back. So, you must calm yourself down (somehow?) and then press on the top of your mask to create a small gap between your face and the mask whilst snorting through your nose to get all the water out. This is an elaborate thing that once I did it I realized it was easier than I thought, but still something that I certainly DID NOT WANT TO DO AGAIN! But I had to. This time with a mask completely full of water.....I wanted to shoot someone. Once I realized that I had to do it again, it took me forever to get up enough nerve to just break the seal on my mask and let the water in let alone clear it, so I had to be babysat by the Dive Master to be tutored through this. And then there was full mask removal and donning and clearing.....that was interesting....I do not know how everyone else got through this so quickly. They seriously must be robots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second day of the pool dives I was again showing my slow kid status. We went over to the diving board pool and were able to do deep dives. All the first day we were just at most in 8 feet of water. But now we were descending to 16 feet. This was really quite exciting. Until they told me I had to do mask clearing again, this time at the bottom of this pool, with no way to panic by just standing up. I swear, I was seriously rethinking why I was doing this to myself. The instructors realized I was the slow kid, so I was always pulled first to show my skill so I could have the most possible time. In the end I just ended up having my own instructor, because I got so behind with that damnable mask clearing again, and I needed to play catch-up. I must say, that I do get everything else pretty easily. It is just this stupid mask clearing. I absolutely hate it. It is awful. But, on the bright side, all the instructors know me by name, and have a cursory knowledge of my background. I was the only one invited to dinner that night. The robots weren't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Friday was a day of rest. And good Lord, did I need it. I think my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;equipment&lt;/span&gt; weighs about as much as I do; when I am standing at the side of that pool all suited up waiting to jump in, I swear I am about to die, or my back is about to snap in two. So I booked a deep tissue massage at four PM, and slept in until two (I didn't get home &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;until&lt;/span&gt; around 2AM from the dinner and margaritas the night before). I got my tanks refilled with air, and I just vegged in front of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt; all night. I went to bed at 9, because I had to get up fairly early for me (being a nocturnal creature).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today were the first two official "dives" to be logged into my dive log at Lake 288 (off of Highway 288!). The first dive was pretty cool, we descended 20 feet into the murk that is a freshwater Texas lake, and swam around a bit, and everything went very well, except for the fact that the temperature of the water was 60.3 degrees. Imagine your hot water heater isn't working and you went to take a bath. That was what it was like. I cut a slight figure, I am not trying to brag, but I am skinny person. There isn't much of a polar layer on me - I was absolutely miserable. I mean teeth chattering as best they could with a reg in my mouth. That first dive we were in the water for about a total of 35 minutes, 20 minutes of actual dive time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second dive was the skill dive. We descend and we were put into a line. I had been psyching myself up "Kerri can clear her mask!" etc. The mistake here, was that the instructor chose a robot to go before me. So robot floods mask and has a complete freak out. I mean he's going up the surface (along with instructor) and meanwhile I am watching and am like "%&amp;amp;*#" and start to freak out myself. The rest of us are down there doing nothing but freezing to death, and I take a gander at my O2 levels (because I am breathing heavy - panic) and realize I do not have enough to complete everything that I need to do on this dive. So I find the Dive Master (he's just supposed to observe and be there in case of emergency) and give the signs of PROBLEM COLD PROBLEM AIR. He checks my gauges and nods and takes me for a swim around the sunken platform to warm up. I then see instructor and give same message to him, and that I want to surface. He surfaces with me, and we talk. I am uncontrollable shaking at the surface - I mean like the kind you see in the movies of arctic exploration. He says I have enough oxygen to go down and complete everything except for mask clearing because he knows I have a problem with it if I am up for it and I say "Yes." I mean, I am already in the cold water, what's another 6 minutes? So I descend, I complete everything else, and am so low on air by the end that I have to use his spare regulator off of his tank to ascend. Scary stuff indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I go ashore and strip off my wetsuit and diving booties my feet are literally blue, a lovely shade of cornflower. No joke. One of the robots is a medical student and was a little concerned, he said towel off, get in dry clothes and sit in the sun, or my hot car for a while. So I did. Meanwhile the other half of my class did their second dive. Two other robots didn't complete the mask clearing, by the way. I knew it would catch up with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So by the time the second team finished, I talked to the instructors and swapped out my tank and decided to go down again by myself and complete the dive I didn't finish. Go me! The two robots didn't get back in! The instructors were impressed with my gumption and attitude and goal-setting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get back in the drink, and descend with one of the instructors who is really very patient with my slowness and I DID IT! I did it with water that is murky and ice-cold and green! I did it when two robots chickened out! I did it! I did it! I DID IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, for tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And post script to all this mayhem, when I came home tonight and got in my shower for the longest hot shower of my life my foot left a gross brown footprint of gunk from the lake on my bathmat when I got in.  I almost puked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-3235635870849205009?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/3235635870849205009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/03/scuba-class-for-slow-kid.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/3235635870849205009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/3235635870849205009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/03/scuba-class-for-slow-kid.html' title='Scuba Class for the Slow Kid'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-5814037834928110750</id><published>2009-03-03T11:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T13:11:17.147-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scuba'/><title type='text'>From Snorkel to Scuba</title><content type='html'>Last March, I flew out to Guam to visit Todd for a week and a half. As part of that vacation, he taught me to snorkel in the beautiful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tumon&lt;/span&gt; Bay - a great experience - and I think I was spoiled because apparently that ecosystem is a world class place to snorkel. Well, we also flew to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Saipan&lt;/span&gt;, and I have some cool pictures of me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;snorkeling&lt;/span&gt; to a WWII Japanese tank in the ocean there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Saipan&lt;/span&gt;, Todd and I got on the subject of scuba diving. He's been certified for three years, and loves to do it. I myself, am not the best of swimmers, but I can get it done, you know? Obviously, I did it there in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Saipan&lt;/span&gt;, I have the proof in the pictures. So, I don't really know if he was just goading me, but he knows about my fear of deep water and was like, "Kerri, I don't know if you could do it" (meaning scuba diving). Okay. That sounds like a challenge to me. So, I cocked my head to the side and said, "Oh, really?"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sa2DfQtHuuI/AAAAAAAAADA/TzMlJ8PpqWk/s1600-h/Negative0359%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309044108823083746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sa2DfQtHuuI/AAAAAAAAADA/TzMlJ8PpqWk/s400/Negative0359%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sa2DbPZ3gFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/VkRllJAaRPM/s1600-h/Negative0349%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309044039754416210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 284px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sa2DbPZ3gFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/VkRllJAaRPM/s400/Negative0349%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sa2DWiLlAyI/AAAAAAAAACw/9OFbI8SdEa0/s1600-h/Negative0345%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309043958895412002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sa2DWiLlAyI/AAAAAAAAACw/9OFbI8SdEa0/s400/Negative0345%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So needless to say, yesterday I attended the first of a five day course to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;PADI&lt;/span&gt; certified in SCUBA diving. This is something that has been in the works since July of 2008. I bought all the necessary equipment (snorkel, mask, fins, weight belt, bag, course &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;materials&lt;/span&gt;, etc.) way back then, but because of the limitations of my job and never having a whole week off to devote to this goal, I haven't been able to actually get certified until now. Since I am a flight attendant, this adds another complication because one cannot fly within 18-24 hours of a dive, not good when a girl's on reserve. Tonight is another 4 hour class, then the next two days I have two "dives" in a heated pool, and then it's on to the real stuff in a lake in Houston for two days (and post script, it will be freezing! Why is my vacation in early spring?) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I have yet to tell Todd about this, I am meaning it to be a huge surprise to him. A kind of "in your face!" moment. I think he only said it in order for me (knowing me very well) to be inspired enough to actually go ahead and do it, and for him to have a dive buddy. I can not wait to see the look on his face!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-5814037834928110750?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/5814037834928110750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/03/from-snorkel-to-scuba.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5814037834928110750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5814037834928110750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/03/from-snorkel-to-scuba.html' title='From Snorkel to Scuba'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/Sa2DfQtHuuI/AAAAAAAAADA/TzMlJ8PpqWk/s72-c/Negative0359%5B1%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-5182533674569386236</id><published>2009-02-21T08:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T09:18:33.364-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parody'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Airline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>Our Lady of the Weeping Oven</title><content type='html'>On my last flight to Rio &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Janeiro&lt;/span&gt; I was flying with a great crew, we actually had many amazing intellectual conversations.  Well, Continental recently has "updated" the flight attendant uniforms, essentially by giving the females a scarf and the males a new tie. This led to a conversation about how I look like a Catholic school girl in my uniform (which, I got to say, I do. I mean, I think Continental is trying to really sex up its image or something by doing the whole two fantasies in one - Catholic school girl AND flight attendant....). Meanwhile, in the middle galley on the Boeing 767 we were on, the middle oven inexplicably started leaking water. "It's a Miracle!" We saw it as a sign from Mother Mary. I saw an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;apparition&lt;/span&gt;, and drew it on the back of a cocktail napkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SaAxj-yq_aI/AAAAAAAAACo/CY0J00ZIBz8/s1600-h/ourladyoven.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305294855263157666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SaAxj-yq_aI/AAAAAAAAACo/CY0J00ZIBz8/s400/ourladyoven.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SaAxPUbjX-I/AAAAAAAAACg/beI-zLxne5Y/s1600-h/ourladyweeping.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305294500294516706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SaAxPUbjX-I/AAAAAAAAACg/beI-zLxne5Y/s400/ourladyweeping.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on in the flight, another Miracle happened. The oven cried wine. We have contacted the Vatican.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-5182533674569386236?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/5182533674569386236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/02/our-lady-of-weeping-oven.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5182533674569386236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5182533674569386236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/02/our-lady-of-weeping-oven.html' title='Our Lady of the Weeping Oven'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SaAxj-yq_aI/AAAAAAAAACo/CY0J00ZIBz8/s72-c/ourladyoven.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-4278430756463640241</id><published>2009-02-12T15:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T16:15:26.599-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='News'/><title type='text'>Octo-Mom</title><content type='html'>I am tired of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;publicity&lt;/span&gt; swirling around Nadya &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Suleman&lt;/span&gt; - in my opinion she is an unfit mother and should have all of her 14 children placed in Child Protective Services.  I am not a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;psychiatrist&lt;/span&gt;, I only have a cursory knowledge of Psych 101 and a dabbling of Dr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Philisms&lt;/span&gt;, but I can tell that this woman has some major issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not for limiting reproduction; that can get dicey (it calls to mind Communist China and their limit to one child per couple.....), but there has to be guidelines for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;IVF&lt;/span&gt; to guard against a single mother, still in college ($50,000 in debt with student loans), living with her parents in a 3 bedroom home, on Welfare (!!!), with six other children at home (two of which are disabled), from being impregnated with eight &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;children&lt;/span&gt;.  That is insane.  If she were an applicant to adopt or foster these children there is absolutely no way she would be accepted.  I saw on Dr. Phil yesterday that even as a daycare, the State of California only allows six infants in the home.  She's bringing home eight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a little biased against a Welfare state, however.  My father, after retiring from an illustrious career in the US Navy, took a job for the State of the New Mexico investigating Welfare fraud, waste and abuse.  Some of the stories he would come home with would just make your head spin.  Teenagers dropping out of school and becoming baby-makers (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;essentially&lt;/span&gt;) and living off of the State; food stamp &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;recipients&lt;/span&gt; asking to buy other people's groceries with their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;EBT&lt;/span&gt; card in exchange for cash so they can go buy cigarettes, alcohol, drugs.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I am off topic.  Nadya &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Suleman&lt;/span&gt; is out of touch with reality.  She is majoring in Psychology, and yet she cannot see the mess that is staring back at her in the mirror.  I really hope that the State of California steps in at some point; those poor infants are innocent and did not choose their fate.  I feel bad for them; and I pity their mother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-4278430756463640241?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/4278430756463640241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/02/octo-mom.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/4278430756463640241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/4278430756463640241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/02/octo-mom.html' title='Octo-Mom'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-5660241704747334958</id><published>2009-02-09T21:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T22:08:40.781-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Games'/><title type='text'>Jeopardy!</title><content type='html'>I am currently playing along with the television show.  I love this game.  But I am not a fan of condescending Alex &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Trebek&lt;/span&gt; and the way he pronounces French words (he's from Quebec - whatever!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of the first commercial break I am not doing so well.  I have a total of $1000.  I have answered several questions wrong, but I did get one hard one about Sun Young Moon right.  I'll do better.  Okay, it's back....get my game face back on.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am on a roll.  I now have $6400 at the end of the first round, and am in second place overall (by like $800).  Whenever there is a Daily Double I wager my own money (and I did get it right and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;should have&lt;/span&gt; bet more but I only wagered $2000 this time) not what the contestant wagers so I can make more than what they make.  Next round....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up to $17700 now.  Got the airplane question right (answer MD stands for McDonald-Douglas), and the Daily Double right for an extra $3500.  I am kicking some major butt!  But, I must keep in mind I am playing against myself and not against two other people on the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final Jeopardy now:  I'll make it a true Final Jeopardy, risk it all, double or nothing.  It's not my money anyhow....I didn't get it right.  I suck..... BOO!  Oh well, Craig Ferguson is coming on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-5660241704747334958?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/5660241704747334958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/02/jeopardy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5660241704747334958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/5660241704747334958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/02/jeopardy.html' title='Jeopardy!'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-1765869654773891397</id><published>2009-02-04T19:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:17:47.622-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shopping'/><title type='text'>Galleria Shopping</title><content type='html'>I did something unusual for me today - I went to the Galleria.  I have lived in Houston for almost three years, and this trip would be the third for me.  The first time was with my mom, second with Todd, and this time I ventured out there all alone.  I find that place very intimidating.  I didn't even know where to park my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me explain why I, a clotheshorse, would avoid going to the largest mall in Houston?  Mostly because I tend to avoid malls in general after working in one all through college.  I worked in a kiosk that sold Comcast Cable out in the center of the mall in my hometown, and I also worked at The Limited for the discounts (I spent more than I ever made there....).  My tolerance for crowds has worn very thin.  I also get very lost very easily.  And the Galleria is massive.  I much prefer to go to Rice Village; but that wasn't an option this time because RV doesn't have a Hallmark (needed to get my sister's birthday card and a Valentine for Todd), or The Limited (have a giftcard and coupon).  So Galleria it was.  AAAAHHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get there and immediately panic about the parking.  I really don't know where to put my car.  I decide to go through Neiman Marcus because I think that looks less traumatic, and find free parking there quickly....  I make a mental note that my hard to find perfume is available here (Guerlain's L'Instant - the perfume and not the eau de toilette or whatever) but do not buy because it's like $110.  I have other things to buy.....and I do have half a bottle left of the eau de toilette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quickly exit Neiman's and make my way to Hallmark.  I have somewhat of an obsession with this store; I collect Christmas ornaments every year (all the Snoopy ones amung others), and get the cards I need after much wasted time just browsing.  Seriously, I can easily spend an afternoon in that store.  I have a reward certificate so all I pay is like $1.89.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next I went to Victoria's Secret because I had a free panty coupon.  I get that and got a couple new bras because they were on sale and with the coupon I also saved another $25 off of 2.  I am a rare size, 32B, so this makes bra shopping very difficult, so if I find some, I tend to stock up.  I am a happy girl right now!  It's amazing what pretty, new, lacy lingerie does for a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I headed to The Limited and immediately fell in love with this strapless chiffon floaty dress  &lt;a href="http://www.thelimited.com/detail/index/item_desc/pleated-strapless-dress/item/8084434/clearance/clearance"&gt;http://www.thelimited.com/detail/index/item_desc/pleated-strapless-dress/item/8084434/clearance/clearance&lt;/a&gt; but tried it on and was unable to fill out the bustline properly (see above, haha!) and was greatly dissappointed.  Boo!  But I looked around, because I had a giftcard and found a Japanese inspired sundress that I missed on the first scan and liked it even better than the first dress and this one actually fit me.  I love it!  &lt;a href="http://www.thelimited.com/detail/index/item_desc/printed-v-neck-dress/item/3274284/clearance/clearance"&gt;http://www.thelimited.com/detail/index/item_desc/printed-v-neck-dress/item/3274284/clearance/clearance&lt;/a&gt;  The back is especially awesome, it almost looks like brushstrokes of a character, and it's in satin, as compared to the rest in cotton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then went to Express, where I also had a gift card and coupons where I wasn't that impressed with the spring collection, honestly.   But I did need to buy some black tights because I wear them a lot in my everyday life (not at work, I think it's tacky, I prefer navy nylons).  I eventually find a cute white skirt.  I think I fell in love with it because it has pockets.  &lt;a href="http://www.express.com/catalog/product.jsp?productId=16596&amp;amp;parentCategoryId=2&amp;amp;categoryId=4&amp;amp;subCategoryId=319"&gt;http://www.express.com/catalog/product.jsp?productId=16596&amp;amp;parentCategoryId=2&amp;amp;categoryId=4&amp;amp;subCategoryId=319&lt;/a&gt;  It needs a better lining, because it is extremely see through, but I absolutely love slips (any girly lingerie, really), and own many, and this skirt is an excuse to wear them.  I think every well-bred lady should own a slip, in my own humble opinion.  I also got a killer pair of earrings here, with a dark green stone dangling in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I manage to get all turned around trying to locate Neiman's again to exit the mall.  I have to ask for directions, but there was a service kiosk, luckily, to assist needy mall shoppers such as myself.  I find my car easily, and stop at Whataburger on the short drive home and get a gallon sized Coke because I am out (and Elizabeth BBed me about drinking one during my shopping escapade and made me crave one).  And now I am home and loving what I bought.  Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-1765869654773891397?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/1765869654773891397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/02/galleria-shopping.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1765869654773891397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1765869654773891397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/02/galleria-shopping.html' title='Galleria Shopping'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-733864411579189081</id><published>2009-01-28T15:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T13:59:55.169-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Education'/><title type='text'>Rant About an Overheard Conversation</title><content type='html'>The other day, I think it was last Thursday I was in the crew room and overheard a flight attendant talking on his cell phone to one of his friends. Now, I admit, I was eavesdropping, mostly because I was completely devoid of entertainment and he was chatting loudly and it was nearly impossible not to hear him. This man was not much older than me, feet propped up on the table. His eyes were weirdly close together, and a hooked nose. Here is a reconstructed version of what I heard:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, man, I tell my five year old to tell his teacher that all this homework is stupid. He comes home and has two hours of crap to do and then it's dinner and then it's his bedtime and he don't have any time to play. I tell him to say to his teacher that it don't make any sense to come home from school and then do more work........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......Yeah, he brings home this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bullsh&lt;/span&gt;*t that he's never seen before in class. I ask him 'Have you even done this before?' and he says 'No.' So this b*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tch&lt;/span&gt; is sending him home with crap that he hasn't ever seen before and expects us to teach it to him! WE have to do HER job! I am pissed! He don't need to be spending all his time doing homework, and I don't need to be spending all my time doing her job......"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this one sided conversation made me shudder, not only because I might have to work with this asshole one day, but that his offspring - he already has two (one apparently is in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-kindergarten) - is our next generation. That is so scary. I was lucky enough to have parents that stressed the importance of a good education; my mother has an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;AA in Computer Science and my father has a Master's Degree in Education, actually almost a Doctorate. I have a BA in English. I eventually want to further that to a post-graduate degree. I hold teachers in the highest esteem. My dad was a high school teacher and is now a part-time college professor, my mother a teacher's aide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;That being said, homework is something that needs to be done. It is to be expected, and it is a parent's responsibility to help their own children if they need it. And also, this may be a surprise to the idiot on the cell phone, but school is not a daycare and/or prison! It is a place to learn! Sometimes the school day isn't long enough, or the child needs some extra attention to grasp certain concepts, and that's where YOU as a PARENT comes in! You are responsible to teach your child, just as much as a teacher is! It is your responsibility since you brought this child into the world to educate him as well as you possibly can, and that doesn't mean just dropping him off at the nearest public school district and thinking that you are finished. You need to read to him, tutor him, check his homework, take him to the library, be chaperones on field trips, pack healthy lunches, join the PTA, and vote yes to bonds that fund museums, libraries, public education. If you think that is unattainable, idiot on the cell phone, then I think you were an unprepared father, and perhaps you should rethink bringing more children into this world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Oh, and I am not going to say ANYTHING about your grammar, idiot on the cell phone, "he don't" and "it don't"! Lord!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-733864411579189081?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/733864411579189081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/rant-about-overheard-conversation.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/733864411579189081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/733864411579189081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/rant-about-overheard-conversation.html' title='Rant About an Overheard Conversation'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-6035702002800779570</id><published>2009-01-27T21:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T22:10:17.040-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Pandora</title><content type='html'>A few months ago Todd shared with me a great website called Pandora.com. It is basically a better version of the online radio, and is customizable to include and exclude any song, artist or genre that you especially like or dislike. This could have come in handy last year when I was helping him remodel his bathroom and we were listening to AOL Radio's Sailing Away channel for hours on end and forced to listen to such atrocities as "Undercover Angel" by Alan &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;O'Day&lt;/span&gt;. That has since become an inside joke between us, as it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; completely awful. But, dear Blog Readers, I thought that you might benefit from this amazing so-called Music Genome Project that can predict what song you will like by typing in a song you already like. I have found that the thumbs up and thumbs down feature is especially satisfying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My profile, no surprise, is &lt;a href="http://www.pandora.com/people/secreteeyore"&gt;http://www.pandora.com/people/secreteeyore&lt;/a&gt; and you are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;welcome&lt;/span&gt; to browse, but no making fun! I like my Native American music to chill out to!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-6035702002800779570?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/6035702002800779570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/pandora.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/6035702002800779570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/6035702002800779570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/pandora.html' title='Pandora'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-8389959938455870771</id><published>2009-01-26T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T20:43:08.960-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crafts'/><title type='text'>Craft Project</title><content type='html'>I bought a craft kit at Half-Price Books a few months ago, mostly because it was $3.98. It is entitled "Fun With Rock Painting: Dragon &amp;amp; Castle". So, being rather bored tonight, I took this kit off my shelf where it had been gathering dust and decided to be productive. I chose to do the dragon - the cute cover model.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SX6IGANosHI/AAAAAAAAABw/LF5ue_zyCrk/s1600-h/DSC01298.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295819848552067186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SX6IGANosHI/AAAAAAAAABw/LF5ue_zyCrk/s400/DSC01298.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This kit comes complete with everything that I need, save a Sharpie (but every flight attendant has a plethora of those anyhow), even a smooth river rock to paint. So, I get started, and quickly realize that the paint isn't really the greatest, but I stick with it. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295820484884918050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SX6IrCvNbyI/AAAAAAAAACA/LuJy5HUKHw0/s400/DSC01302.jpg" border="0" /&gt; This is how it is supposed to look:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295820228475788226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SX6IcHigm8I/AAAAAAAAAB4/rcZtq1UYHp0/s400/DSC01299.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how mine turned out, after a few breaks to let the coats of paint dry. I can't get the cheap glue they included to get the wings to stick, so maybe it'll just be a fire-breathing lizard or something. I have come to the conclusion that the cover model is deceptive. In order to get that level of detail and quality, the rock had to be roughly the size of a cantaloupe, not the size of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sand dollar&lt;/span&gt; (like the one they provided me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295820810673242514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SX6I-AZMwZI/AAAAAAAAACI/IwuGM0q-ntU/s400/DSC01303.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295826349510105218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SX6OAaK0GII/AAAAAAAAACQ/s3XF_mC8bGo/s400/lizard.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Just wanted to show you that I can actually paint (I seem to have a thing for reptilian creatures...) I made this at Art Attack! (a paint your own pottery place) in Albuquerque last Christmas when I was visiting my parents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-8389959938455870771?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/8389959938455870771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/craft-project.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/8389959938455870771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/8389959938455870771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/craft-project.html' title='Craft Project'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SX6IGANosHI/AAAAAAAAABw/LF5ue_zyCrk/s72-c/DSC01298.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-4262794194380606973</id><published>2009-01-21T16:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T16:42:40.973-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='facebook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drama'/><title type='text'>FaceBook Drama</title><content type='html'>Okay.  I am fairly conservative in my political views.  I was raised in a strict, Catholic and Navy household.  Nowadays, expressing my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;beliefs&lt;/span&gt; (being young and Republican) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;elicits&lt;/span&gt; a puzzled look and a whole lot of judgement.  So I have learned to shut my mouth and not talk politics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was an historic day.  I wish Barack Obama the best, and pray that his decisions are wise ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, yesterday I got into some huge &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;FaceBook&lt;/span&gt; drama concerning our new President, unintentionally.  So, I have this "friend" Amber who I used to live on the same block in high school, and who I probably haven't spoken to (or seen) in 10 years.  During the inauguration she posts this update saying [please keep in mind all this is paraphrasing because my memory might be a tad faulty because I was angry]:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Amber is watcing history! and is proud 2 b american for the first time ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This statement made me huffy, and not just because she cannot capitalize 'American' or spell out 'to be'.  I hate it when people say stuff like this.  A person should be proud to be American every day of their natural lives, should fall on their knees every night and thank the Good Lord Above that he or she had the ultimate good fortune to be blessed enough to be here.  I could go on.  So, naturally, I commented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-This is insanity! First time ever?  Have you ever lived in another country or spent any significant time in the developing world?  I can't believe people say stuff like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please note, dear Blog Readers that I said nothing about the President or partisan politics.  Her response?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Be careful what you say.  I didn't complain about YOUR president, you don't complain about MINE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which I said, very calmly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I wasn't referring to the President.  I was referring to your not being proud of being an American.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this time I also discovered that she had written on my Wall a post that contained these statements strung together "I have traveled and seen things and that's how I know", and "You seem like a very mean spirited person" among others.  So I deleted her friendship.  No big loss for me.  And obviously, I deleted all her Wall posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next time I log in I have a new mail message from guess who?  Amber.  It contains the following message:&lt;br /&gt;"You are a horrible, horrible person, and I cannot believe how mean and cruel you have been to me today."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay.  I don't really see how I am a horrible, horrible person.  In fact, I think that she is not so nice of a person herself.  She was obviously a name-caller in this situation.  I was just calling her out for not being patriotic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-4262794194380606973?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/4262794194380606973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/facebook-drama.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/4262794194380606973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/4262794194380606973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/facebook-drama.html' title='FaceBook Drama'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-8358085208723129737</id><published>2009-01-18T10:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T13:26:44.276-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Dad in Town</title><content type='html'>On Thursday morning my dad came into town from Albuquerque for something like a 60 hour visit to his youngest (and dare I spoiled?) daughter. Here is a general itinerary of the visit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day One:&lt;br /&gt;(Remain awake all night because sleep cycle is screwed up because of flying all night back from Rio the other night, and having an absurdly early neurology appointment this morning).&lt;br /&gt;Pick Dad up at airport.&lt;br /&gt;Eat at La Madeleine for brunch.&lt;br /&gt;Go get gas in car.&lt;br /&gt;Go get groceries.&lt;br /&gt;Go to my apartment where Dad takes inventory of all my broken stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Dad starts to take apart my vacuum.&lt;br /&gt;Dad starts to take apart my lamp.&lt;br /&gt;Dad starts to set up my Digital transition boxes, but realizes I need another antennae for my bedroom television.&lt;br /&gt;We go to Target to buy batteries, bathmat &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bath rugs&lt;/span&gt; (both of these were ruined in ceiling collapse during Hurricane Ike), &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;light bulbs&lt;/span&gt; galore, picture frames, belt for my vacuum, antennae for my television in the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;Go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Chuy's&lt;/span&gt; for dinner where I introduce him to green chili margaritas and Elvis' picture hanging on the wall (my Chihuahua, who actually lives in Albuquerque with my parents, see other blog).&lt;br /&gt;By the time we get home it is only 7pm, but I have been up almost 29hours straight and can't keep my eyes open, so I stuff in my earplugs and kiss Daddy goodnight and pass out. Between the time I am sleeping and he is awake, Dad changes all the batteries in my clocks (and sets them to the correct time!???! that's new) and smoke detectors, sets up my non-working VCR to make it actually work, finishes fixing vacuum, unclogs my bathroom sink, and frames a few photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day Two:&lt;br /&gt;I wake up at 5am because I went to bed so early, and find Dad (rightly) snoring on my Aerobed. I decide to read until he wakes up, he's an early bird (former military and all), so I figure he'd be up soon. He was up within the hour. We eat breakfast at home, watch tv for a few hours. Obviously way more relaxed this day.&lt;br /&gt;We set out on the road again.&lt;br /&gt;Go to Batteries Plus for new car battery. Oops this one doesn't have my size. Go to different one. Get lost along the way. Finally get there after several U-turns.&lt;br /&gt;Go to Target one more time because we need more lightbulbs.&lt;br /&gt;Go to hardware store for a lamp part.&lt;br /&gt;We head to Crescent City Beignets for beignets and cafe au laits, a must whenever Dad is in town.&lt;br /&gt;We decide to go to Ikea for lunch (even though we've had dessert first) and to take advantage of final days of Blue Moon sale. Miss turn off of Memorial onto Antoine and go several blocks further than necessary. Driving is not my strong suit. But I realize my mistake, eventually.&lt;br /&gt;Race home to make the 3pm reserve flight attendant pick up window (there are 3 positions open on the 4-day Honolulu).&lt;br /&gt;Get home with 25 minutes to spare, I become CCS zombie, until my DSL goes down at 2:59pm, when I become a curse-spewing sailor on shore leave.&lt;br /&gt;Well after that drama, we decide to go see "Valkyrie". I am a fan of this movie, and not just because Kenneth Branaugh is in it (if you haven't seen his version of Hamlet - then you haven't lived). Very well written, the sheer audacity of the imagery is spellbinding. Inspiring.&lt;br /&gt;We then go to SouperSalad for dinner. A guilty pleasure for me (I'm vegetarian).&lt;br /&gt;Upon our return home Dad procedes to fix the lamp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 3:&lt;br /&gt;Today begins with a trip to CVS to drop off my Rx from the neurologist.&lt;br /&gt;Then off to BestBuy to get my good laptop fixed (currently using spare because good one has been broken for about a month can't hold a charge because charger is broken amung other things).&lt;br /&gt;Then Chik-Fil-A. Now, I don't eat chicken, but this place has the best side-salads for future reference, because they actually put cheese on them. And sunflower seeds. And they have soft-serve ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;We go back home because I have to get ready for (AH!) airport alert, and Dad is leaving on a flight later this night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dropped him off at the gate, and was walking back to the crew room to check in for work, and was overcome. People were staring at the misty eyed flight attendant. I hate saying goodbye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, Dad came down to check up on the baby of the family and make sure that I am doing alright, here on my own in Houston. And I love him for it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Daddy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-8358085208723129737?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/8358085208723129737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/dad-in-town.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/8358085208723129737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/8358085208723129737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/dad-in-town.html' title='Dad in Town'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-1637499098847047061</id><published>2009-01-12T22:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T04:35:37.136-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Books'/><title type='text'>Books for the New Year *updated*</title><content type='html'>I just wanted to let everyone know that I am a failure in my 2008 New Year's Resolution. It was to read 50 books in a year - all the way through. Yes, I read a lot, but I did not make this seemingly easy goal. I always have a stack of books by my bed, couch, in my suitcase, purse; and a list of books in my head that I need to purchase at Half Price Books (if they are old or out of print) or Barnes &amp;amp; Noble (if they are new or I just want that little thrill of a fresh smelling book). I go to the bookstore to relax. It is a place where I am myself. I am a complete nerd. I'll admit it. I love books. And all these gadgetry things like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;eBooks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and Kindles and such are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;blasphemous&lt;/span&gt; to me. But that's another issue entirely. The problem I seem to have is that I start a book and I read about 75% of it before I decide it sucks and I shouldn't waste my time on it and then I realize that I could have been using that valuable reading time with a great book. So although I have easily started probably 80 books in 2008, I only actually finished 37. Here's the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The Sharper Your Knife the Less You Cry by Kathleen Flinn 304p&lt;br /&gt;2) Bella Tuscany by Frances &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mayes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 304p&lt;br /&gt;3) Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck 288p&lt;br /&gt;4) The Reading Group by Elizabeth Noble 429p&lt;br /&gt;5) Year in the World by Frances &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mayes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 420p&lt;br /&gt;6) Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden 448p&lt;br /&gt;7) A Year Without Made in China by Sara &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bondgiorni&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 256p&lt;br /&gt;8) Bad Dogs Have More Fun by John &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Grogan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 247p&lt;br /&gt;9) Silk by Alessandro &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Baricco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 132p&lt;br /&gt;10) Swan by Frances &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Mayes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 323p&lt;br /&gt;11) Me &amp;amp; Mr. Darcy by Alexandra Potter 356p&lt;br /&gt;12) Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield 224p&lt;br /&gt;13) The Red Pony by John Steinbeck 112p&lt;br /&gt;14) Catholicism for Dummies by John &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Triglio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;et&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;al&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 414p&lt;br /&gt;15) Helping Me Help Myself by Beth &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Lisick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 265p&lt;br /&gt;16) How to be Lovely: The Audrey Hepburn Way of Life by Melissa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Hellstern&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 195p&lt;br /&gt;17) Now That You Are a Catholic by John J. Kenny C.S.P. 119p&lt;br /&gt;18) 100 Words to Make You Sound Smart by the Editors of the American Heritage Dictionary 118p&lt;br /&gt;19) Bringing Tuscany Home by Frances &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Mayes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 228p&lt;br /&gt;20) Sex Begins in the Kitchen by Dr. Kevin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Leman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 272p&lt;br /&gt;21) The Seven Levels of Intimacy: The Art of Loving and the Joy of Being Loved by Matthew Kelly 272p&lt;br /&gt;22) The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands by Dr. Laura &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Schlessinger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 180p&lt;br /&gt;23) Alphabet Weekends by Elizabeth Noble 425p&lt;br /&gt;24) The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets by Eva Rice 349p&lt;br /&gt;25) It's All Greek to Me! by John Mole 342p&lt;br /&gt;26) Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote 111p&lt;br /&gt;27) Confessions of a Shopaholic by Sophie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Kinsella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 310p&lt;br /&gt;28) Weddings from the Heart by Daphne Rose &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Kingma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 188p&lt;br /&gt;29) The 100 Simple Secrets of Great Relationships by David Niven 223p&lt;br /&gt;30) Nickle and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Dimed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;; On (Not) Getting by in America by Barbara &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Ehrenreich&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 230p&lt;br /&gt;31) The Friendship Test by Elizabeth Noble 437p&lt;br /&gt;32) Bridget &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Jones's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Diary by Helen Fielding 271p&lt;br /&gt;33) Two Years Before the Mast by Richard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Hanry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Dana, Jr. 405p&lt;br /&gt;34) Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict by Laurie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Viera&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Rigler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 291p&lt;br /&gt;35) A Bold Fresh Piece of Humanity by Bill &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;O'Reilly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 256p&lt;br /&gt;36) People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks 372p&lt;br /&gt;37) Audrey Style by Pamela Clarke Keogh 240p&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Total 10,356 pages read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The literary year of 2008 made me realize a few things. First, always stick with your favorite authors. Mine happen to include Frances &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Mayes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I read Under the Tuscan Sun a few years ago and it was such an inspirational work (unlike the movie - so unlike the movie), and that stuck in my head as one of the authors that I would aspire to be like, if I were to write - which I intend to later on in life. In fact, I want her life - part-time English professor during the school year, living in Tuscany enjoying La Bella Vita and writing on her time off! So in 2008 I read almost everything else she has ever written. And it has deepened my admiration for her style. Swan is her first piece of fiction to be published, and I must say that I am in awe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, don't just read books for their length (or lack thereof). I thought I would throw in a few 100 paged classics in there because they were easy to read and I &lt;em&gt;should&lt;/em&gt; have read them anyhow (The Red Pony by Steinbeck is especially in my brain at this point). Yeah, that is a f*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;cked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; up piece of literature, and I do not see how 100 pages can illicit such emotional and psychological damage in myself, and be required 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; grade reading in a lot of schools. I do not recommend, unless you want to alternatively cry yourself to sleep and lie awake for a few nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, learn what you like to read, and do not rely on others for suggestions. I should have really trusted my gut on this one: Confessions of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Shopaholic&lt;/span&gt;. This title&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was thrown out as a suggestion for me to read because apparently people know of my obsession with Tiffany's, and therefore think they know me. When I located it at Barnes &amp;amp; Noble my instinct told me "lowest-common-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;denominator&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;drivel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;," and to go peruse the British history section; but I didn't, and guess what? I was right, and am currently kicking myself for not reading Georgiana the Duchess of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Devonshire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; all the while. Confessions of a Shopaholic sucked, but I felt obliged to read it, so I trudged through. I hate chick-lit. Any book that one can buy at a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;CVS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; or Walgreen's probably isn't good literature and probably won't expand your mind. I work with a lot of misinformed people out there who believe that Nicholas Sparks is a novelist on par with Dickens. Uh, if there are any - ANY - Nicholas Sparks books on your bookshelves at this moment, I encourage you to rethink that decision. Please. (As a side note, the book about Tiffany, My Summer at Tiffany, was a great memoir of a girl in the 60s who interned there. Wonderful read! And completely on a different level then Confessions of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;Shopaholic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit that I have a Jane Austen addiction. It began vaguely my sophomore year of college when I read Mansfield Park in depth and watched Patricia &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Rozema's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; film. Since then I have taken college courses about her works, seen every movie, and basically read everything there is to read about Jane Austen and her wonderful works of fiction, which explains the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;preponderance&lt;/span&gt; of Jane Austen-type titles appearing on the list (Me and Mr. Darcy, Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict, and Bridget &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Jones's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Diary). I can't help myself. Okay, and post script here, I am totally aware of the fact that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;Jones's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is grammatically wrong. But it is the title. You would think that the bigwigs at Penguin Publishing would catch something as obvious as that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have discovered in 2008 one of the most moving, lyrical and beautiful books ever written. One of my now all time favorites. Silk. I read it in one sitting. God! It is poetry. It is love. It is music for the soul. I love it. The best part is, it was originally written in Italian! This book is a translation! I can only imagine how exquisite it is in its original tongue, like Neruda's poetry. And the film, though, not up to par with the book, is amazing in it's cinematography and ambitious in it's tone as well. Silk. Silk. Silk. Rapturous Silk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also in 2008 have revisited my Catholic roots. Several books have helped me rediscover faith in God, and although it probably makes me seem dense, I really rather enjoyed Catholicism for Dummies. One of my lifetime goals is to eventually get through the Bible. I know, I know. I have tried so many times. The Old Testament always gets me though, with all the histories and lists of names. I try. I have several bibles in fact, and the most interesting one I have found, and have been reading throughout 2008, though not completed to make THE LIST is my Catholic Women's Devotional &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;NRSV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Very nice, and divided into a daily reading and brings out the women's roles in the bible. Highly recommended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the absolute pleasure of reading It's All Greek to Me! on my week and a half long journey through Greece this past summer. I must tell you that this was probably the funniest book I have read, and my mom kept looking at me weird on the plane when I would laugh my loud laugh. She finally just said, "read it to me!" one night, so I started over from the beginning and read aloud to her and it was a great bonding experience. This is a hysterical book, and I tell you that it added so much to my travels. Highly recommended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discovered by accident another author that I had to read &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; by this year, and that is Elizabeth Noble. She is a Brit, and her works are so good, it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt; that I chose her first book, The Reading Group, because I liked that there was a dog on the cover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two Years Before the Mast is a work that I would not ordinarily pick up, but it was on a subject that I knew nothing of, and wanted to learn about- sailing.  This is sailing in its most antiquated terms; with spars, masts, rigs, mizzens, forecastles and jibs, on a ship that sets sail around Cape Horn for California in the 1830s.  It is a memoir of a man quite famous in his day, and very much a man's book.  My dad, a 27 year veteran of the Navy, was quite proud of his daughter when he learned of my reading this book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memoirs of a Geisha I decided to read because Todd told me he was reading it, and I wanted to start a sort of long-distance book club. That didn't really work out, because I finished it like 3 weeks sooner than he did, but this book is amazing, nonetheless. The movie didn't do it justice. I was born in Japan, and moved away when I was 2 and a half, so I always feel like there is a part of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;subconscious&lt;/span&gt; that is influenced in some way by their culture, that I just don't see yet. I love learning the little details of the geisha's life. But there was something that really bothered me about this book - in the end &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Sayuri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is at this tropical island and she says she sees pineapples growing on trees. That really brought me out of the book, I had to reread that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;sentence&lt;/span&gt; about four times to make sure I read it right. I think that's like a general science question in Trivial Pursuit. Pineapples do not grow on trees!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, my New Year's Resolution for 2009 is the same as it was for 2008. I have already read Phillipa Gregory's The Other Boleyn Girl (and tremendously enjoyed it.....I seem to have a thing for historical fiction). Right now I am reading Passion by Jude Morgan which is about the Romantic poets i.e. Byron, Shelley, and Keats, and the love affairs that inspired them. And let me tell you the title lives up to the story! I still have a long list of books to read, and I'll keep you all posted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-1637499098847047061?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/1637499098847047061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/books-for-new-year.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1637499098847047061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1637499098847047061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/books-for-new-year.html' title='Books for the New Year *updated*'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-8776282139415224922</id><published>2009-01-06T16:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T17:31:32.446-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chihuahua'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dog'/><title type='text'>Elvis' PetSmart Christmas Photos</title><content type='html'>I am a Chihuahua kind of girl. I tend to like Chihuahuas, and actually any dog in general, better than people. My dream is to be a housewife and rescue them and have a whole brood of them. That being said, my current profession being the way it is, the love of my life, my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;almost&lt;/span&gt; 6 year old miniature Chihuahua, Elvis, is forced to be foster parented by my parents in Albuquerque, whilst I live alone in Houston. I miss him very much. He does visit me often, he has his own little airplane carrier and my mom brings him along when she visits me. Often times, I find myself getting a little bit more excited that he's coming rather than she is. (Is that bad??). Anyways, I am a good Chihuahua momma. Some might say a tad bit obsessive. Every year I take him to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;PetSmart&lt;/span&gt; to get his photo taken with Santa. And now, a trip down memory lane....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SWP5ixOzwlI/AAAAAAAAAAo/wf-6DUQHXMU/s1600-h/DSC01243.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288344763189412434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SWP5ixOzwlI/AAAAAAAAAAo/wf-6DUQHXMU/s400/DSC01243.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was 2003. He was about 9 months old, and was so nervous to be held by anyone else that I had to kind of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sidle&lt;/span&gt; on in next to Santa. So I overlook his cute little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;neuroses, he's a Chihuahua! You can kind of tell that&lt;/span&gt; he was trying his best to escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288348420580282402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SWP83qEvkCI/AAAAAAAAAAw/-ForPftGBaI/s400/DSC01244.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is obviously the Easter Bunny, in spring of 2004, and an anomoly at PetSmart, because this is the only time that I know of that he was available for pictures. Elvis doesn't look too happy about a man in a rabbit trying to squeeze him. This one makes me giggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288348824965326402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SWP9PMhppkI/AAAAAAAAAA4/NVrNcVyo0kQ/s400/DSC01245.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This is me at my best. Spoiling my baby. He is in a Coach jacket. And he still looks petrified of Santa.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288349376318798306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SWP9vSej-eI/AAAAAAAAABA/cxxHolxNA4c/s400/DSC01246.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas 2005 he seems to have calmed down a bit. This is actually my favorite Christmas photo of him. He is in his little red and green ski sweater and is actually making eye contact with the camera, and he is at his full grown weight. I'm gushing! Such a proud momma! He's smiling in this one!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288349789303971154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SWP-HU95nVI/AAAAAAAAABI/DZLTuVWX6rQ/s400/DSC01247.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is scared again in this one, and looks like he about to leap down and bite some ankles. At least the red ribbon looks good!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288350329845091602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SWP-myo8jRI/AAAAAAAAABQ/ijbgsuCIC9Y/s400/DSC01248.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year's photo was another good one, this time a close up and the first time that it wasn't a Polaroid (I think because the Polaroid company was circling the drain at the time...). It's a larger photo and looks like Elvis is wearing a bow tie. So sweet and dorky!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288350821874258290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SWP_Dbl10XI/AAAAAAAAABY/ha90eMN_pfU/s400/DSC01249.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008's photo is a tribute to Elvis' Blue Hawaii. Elvis is in his little Hawaiian shirt and kukuii nut lei that I bought him in Honolulu. He again looks scared and about to do a kamikaze jump. Odd thing about this one too, is that "Santa" is a woman. Could they really not find a guy?&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288351198254848450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SWP_ZVt92cI/AAAAAAAAABg/YbzaLc0ryeo/s400/DSC01250.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Elvis' Christmas present to his mama this year - an ornament from Hallmark with his photo in it. I collect Hallmark ornaments, and this one is extremely special in that it has a little button that you push to hear his actual barking. Yep. My parents actually recorded his barking for me. That's how obsessed they are for him too! Haha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-8776282139415224922?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/8776282139415224922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/elvis-petsmart-christmas-photos.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/8776282139415224922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/8776282139415224922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2009/01/elvis-petsmart-christmas-photos.html' title='Elvis&apos; PetSmart Christmas Photos'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SWP5ixOzwlI/AAAAAAAAAAo/wf-6DUQHXMU/s72-c/DSC01243.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-3681043729904424336</id><published>2008-12-29T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T19:57:36.540-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Military'/><title type='text'>What I am about to say may offend some....but I know I am right. So there.</title><content type='html'>Okay. I am going to preface this by saying I jut got finished talking to Todd about this, so I am still kind of riled up about it, and my adrenaline is pumping. Stuff like this makes me really angry. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Arrgh&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. Deep breath. Well, I just worked a direct flight from Houston to Honolulu where I was door greeter on the 767-200. This mainly means that I stand by the main entrance to the plane and tell people where to go to get to their seats in an orderly fashion during boarding. Well, at the very end of boarding this woman comes on with two kids - one boy who looks to be about 4 years old and an infant daughter along with all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;accoutrements&lt;/span&gt; that said children might need on a nearly 8 hour flight. This is a little atypical because they should have been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;boarded&lt;/span&gt; (came on first) because they obviously are going to take a long time to get settled in. She is traveling alone with her two children but had enlisted another passenger to drag her ginormous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;carseat&lt;/span&gt; for her boy down the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;jetway&lt;/span&gt; understandably. So I take a look at her seat, notice that she only bought two seats for the three passengers (another issue - something that I think is enormously unsafe but whatever....that's for another day). She has 18E and F. So I make it known to her that she absolutely must put the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;carseat&lt;/span&gt; in 18E so as not to block 18D's potential escape route in an emergency. I did my job, she went down the aisle to her seat. She did exactly the opposite of what I said. Of course. She installed her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;carseat&lt;/span&gt; at the aisle seat at 18F to block everyone in, and stall egress in the event of an emergency evacuation. I didn't actually see this, I was still up at the front of the plane, but another flight attendant, Ron, did catch it and told her that she must move the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;carseat&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently she ignored his request. When he came back to check on her she hadn't done it and said she wasn't going to, and asked for his name. Jesus! Whenever this happens alarms go off in a flight attendants head, because airline management has a tendancy to believe any sort of ridiculous story that a passenger tells over their own trained professional employees; so, smart guy, Ron got our lead flight attendant, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Shahid&lt;/span&gt; involved, who also got a ground agent involved. Long story short, I somehow got volunteered to hold her really sticky infant during boarding while the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;carseat&lt;/span&gt; got moved. If you know me, you know that I was born without the mommy gene. So, really, this lady is already not one of my favorite passengers. Didn't listen when I clearly directed her to do a simple task, making me be a babysitter, and already taking names to throw fellow crew members under the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, at the very beginning of the flight it is my position to sell headsets in the main cabin. So I have a little tray of them. The lady's 4 year old was out of control. I mean like Seed of Chucky style. Yelling at the top of his lungs "MILK!!!!!" Kicking, throwing some sort of graham cracker on the floor. She asks me if there is milk on the plane, to which I say "Yes, it is on the barcart, which is being set up at the moment. We are still climbing, it'll be about 10 minutes and we'll be out with a beverage and meal service." I was selling headsets at the time, remember. To which this bitch said, "well, if you want him yelling like this for ten minutes then fine," and rolled her eyes at me. What the fuck? It's not my responsibility to control and/or discipline your brat or to provide Chucky with his every demand. You, as a parent, should be prepared. So I continued walking through the cabin selling headsets. Water off a duck's back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to let you all know, there isn't much milk on our flights. We have probably 24 pints in the main cabin. 12 pints are fat free. 6 pints for each of whole and fat free for each aisle; and 2 on each beverage cart are designated for our "creamer" for coffee and tea. Chucky drank all our milk.   And then pointed to the ones on the cart for the creamers and screamed for those and cried like a bansie when we refused to give them to him.  I am not shitting you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I go on break with Ron. Nice crew rest. We have a few giggles about the bitch with the milk. When we come up early, Debbie tells us that Lisa talked to Chucky's mom when she gave him the little airplane kid's wings. Okay. First - WTF! This lady has already threatened to write up one of your co-workers and you're codling them. My advice is to only deal with them when it is absolutely necessary - like during beverage services. Anything else is rewarding bad behavior. So already I was a little ticked off with my fellow flight attendants. I could tell Ron was too. So apparently Chucky's mom told Chucky to put the wings on his forehead. "Go ahead, stick 'em to your forehead!" This woman is an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then Debbie goes into this sob story about how Chucky's dad is in Iraq and blah, blah, blah. About how she feels so bad for this woman, she's so lost. At that point I couldn't take it anymore, I snapped at Debbie, adrenaline pumping. This is what I said paraphrasing because I was fed up with Debbie, Chucky, his mom and all the bitches like her "You know what? That is bullshit! So what her husband's in Iraq? That has no effect on me, whatsoever. I came from a military family. That bitch needs to pull it together! Her husband needs to know that his family is a strong one and doesn't need to rely on the sympathy of others to get by. She needs to step up to the plate and be a parent to those kids! She knew what she was getting into when she married into the military. Her husband is off fighting a war and what is she doing? She sure as HELL isn't keeping the home fires burning! She is a complete mess!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Debbie just sat there for a moment with her mouth gaping open and then said "Girl, you are in the wrong business."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly think I am right on this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and as an added bonus, when we landed in Honolulu, the seats they were seated in were complete disaster zones. I mean food ground into them, wrappers on the floor, cups, ice, shit everywhere. I wish I would have thought to take a picture. Damn it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-3681043729904424336?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/3681043729904424336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-i-am-about-to-say-may-offend.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/3681043729904424336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/3681043729904424336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-i-am-about-to-say-may-offend.html' title='What I am about to say may offend some....but I know I am right. So there.'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-1680796633009352042</id><published>2008-12-26T19:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T19:59:51.717-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas in Honolulu</title><content type='html'>As I mentioned in my prior blog, I flew to Honolulu over Christmas. This was my doing, as I picked this trip out of a list of many others because I wanted to A) work as little as possible and B) be able to call my family and friends without a trans-Atlantic phone card. Amazingly enough, no big problems occurred on the flight over. I slept most of the way, as I was deadheading. I did have the frustrating realizationg that my sort of new iPod needs to have a lot more music downloaded on it to be a viable source of entertainment for an eight hour flight, though. I must have listened to Simon &amp;amp; Garfunkel's the Boxer and Kings of Leon's Sex on Fire 20x each. Wide spectrum of musical variety there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whilst in Honolulu, I did not do much. I did have high aspirations - Catholic guilt led me to put Midnight Mass on my to-do list, along with tanning on the beach, a brisk morning walk, and maybe some shopping at Ala Moana Mall. None of these things materialized. I did make it to Duke's with some of the crew for some appetizers and a Lava Flow ( a heavenly concoction of pineapple juice, coconut milk, strawberry puree and spiced rum). Then I called my parents who were at my sister's house doing the tradional unwrapping presents gig, and then my best friend from Guam called and we talked for about an hour, and then I crashed. Quite literally, the radio was on when I woke up at 1 in the afternoon. I don't really know what my problem is with sleep, but it is a massive one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I rolled out of bed I went to the best sushi joint on O'ahu, and I am going to use the remainder of this blog as a shamless plug for my favorite restaurant ever in existance, Doraku. &lt;a href="http://www.dorakusushi.com/"&gt;http://www.dorakusushi.com/&lt;/a&gt;I have been going to this place at least once every layover I have in Hono since this place opened in early Spring 2008. I even asked for a discount card one time I was in there; the waitress looked put on the spot, but talked to her manager and gave me some sort of card meant for concierges and the like. It gives me 1 point for every dollar spent and when I get 250, I het a $25 giftcard. Needless to say, I was way pumped to be in such an exclusive club! But, since then they have started giving these "D Club" cards to anyone who asks. Not so exclusive anymore, but I was the one who started the ball rolling! See what I started! :D So anyways, I got the same waitress on Christmas who I had originally asked for a discount from and she recognized me and gave me a free dessert! Yay! This place rocks! And, post script, the tempura bananas are delish!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-1680796633009352042?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/1680796633009352042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2008/12/as-i-mentioned-in-my-prior-blog-i-flew.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1680796633009352042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/1680796633009352042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2008/12/as-i-mentioned-in-my-prior-blog-i-flew.html' title='Christmas in Honolulu'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1737748794124639664.post-2899473082907849481</id><published>2008-12-23T16:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T16:20:42.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Blog</title><content type='html'>I have jumped on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cyber&lt;/span&gt; bandwagon, and Liz (a.k.a. Agent &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;DragonFly&lt;/span&gt;) has set me up with a Blog.  I will most likely use this as a place to bitch about stupid things that other people do, but you never know, I have also been known to do massively stupid things too.  ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am working on Christmas, and I am using the word 'working' loosly, as I am deadheading to Honolulu, spending 31 hours there, and working the 7:40 hr flight back.  I am sure that this will illicit a blog, because nothing screams stupid airline story as flying on a holiday.  I'll keep you posted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1737748794124639664-2899473082907849481?l=secreteeyore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/feeds/2899473082907849481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2008/12/first-blog.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/2899473082907849481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1737748794124639664/posts/default/2899473082907849481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secreteeyore.blogspot.com/2008/12/first-blog.html' title='First Blog'/><author><name>Secreteeyore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17500479119503935209</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYku8m0IBWA/SVF-ZK6tIkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/YFPbttrHdgI/S220/saipan.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
