<?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-20314844</id><updated>2011-12-14T19:13:28.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Told You So</title><subtitle type='html'>Starring me, Liv, a nice Minnesota girl trying to make sense of my life and have a little fun doing it. I believe in working hard, laughing hard, and loving hard... but not necessarily in that order.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-114062686640400322</id><published>2006-02-22T08:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T08:55:25.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best and Brightest</title><content type='html'>I’m a financial aid advisor at a fairly prominent art school in the Twin Cities. As far as tuition goes, let’s just say it isn’t cheap… in fact, in exchange for attendance, students must promise their first-born child to the school. Because of the high cost, around 95% of our students make use of student loans, and, if they’re lucky, state and federal grants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since our school is recognized as one of the best in our field, you’d think that we’d be selective about who we accept and who we don’t. Now, I know we cater to the artistic crowd and offer alternative paths for those who may not be successful in a typical college setting, i.e. a state school or private university. However, since when did a lack of basic life skills and average spelling and grammar proficiency become acceptable? I’m a pretty tolerant and understanding person, and I’m all about cutting people some slack and helping those who need help, but some of this is just too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let me just preface this by saying that we do have a large number of extremely bright and capable students in attendance here… the school obviously wouldn’t be successful if we didn’t. But there are also quite a few that don’t have a clue. I do believe that everyone should have the opportunity to receive a good education, but students should have the basics down before they can move on to more advanced learning. It’s like trying to build a skyscraper without a foundation… it just doesn’t work. Some of these kids (and adults) would be better suited starting at a community college and getting their core learning solidly established first. It would also save them a ton of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the things we see on a daily basis: One of my students was completing the Stafford loan app and filled in the part for a reference. Later, as I was checking it over, I saw that on the line where he listed the reference’s relationship to the borrower, he had written “Grat Unkel.” &lt;em&gt;Grat Unkel&lt;/em&gt;. Are you freaking kidding me??? And this guy is starting college? For some reason, I just don’t know if he’s ready. I mean, this is first grade spelling, people. Not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another co-worker asked a student to address an envelope to his parents so we could send a loan app. He simply wrote in the city name and handed it to her. She told him she’d need the complete address and he looked at her blankly. “We need your mom’s name,” she told him. So then he proceeded to write his mom’s name &lt;em&gt;below&lt;/em&gt; the city and state… and told her he didn’t know the street address (which was also &lt;em&gt;his&lt;/em&gt; home address).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve had students ask us to call their parents for them, complete their paperwork, and ride the city bus with them (I kid you not). We have to hound them to complete their loan apps and call for pre-approval. One girl refused to fill out a form for a merit award (free money… $2000!) because she thought it was too hard. It consisted of filling in address info, career objective and need, and motivation to complete the program. A one page form worth $2000. And did I mention she was a raging bitch about it? The attitude and lack of respect kill me. &lt;em&gt;Hey, we’re trying to help you here. How about you get the stick out your ass and act like an adult?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know when I was a young person starting college I did whatever I could to get my loan apps done ASAP. I took advantage of any grant opportunities I could. I didn’t have anyone holding my hand, either. I filled out my paperwork, mailed it in, and they sent me my financial aid letter. Bing, bang, boom. Done. I certainly didn’t give them any attitude; I was scared shitless and needed every cent I could get. &lt;em&gt;Jump? Yes, ma’am, how high?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I leave you with this little tale. A student was completing some paperwork and needed her street address and city. One of my associates was making a copy of the same student’s driver’s license while she was completing the paperwork. “Can I see that for a second?” the student asked. My co-worker handed her the license, the student read it, and then handed it back. “Thanks. I just needed to see what city I live in so I can fill this out.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No lie, folks. For the low, low price of only $75K, these up and coming stars can buy some good book learnin’… we don’t care if they can speak or function on their own, as long as they can beg, borrow, or steal their tuition money. This is the future of America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of makes the folks on “Jay Walking” look like geniuses, huh??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-114062686640400322?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/114062686640400322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=114062686640400322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/114062686640400322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/114062686640400322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/02/best-and-brightest.html' title='The Best and Brightest'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-114048605908037591</id><published>2006-02-20T17:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T17:40:59.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting a Grip</title><content type='html'>I had a great weekend... Had Thursday off as a comp day and Friday off because of President's Day (don't ask me why my company didn't observe it today like the rest of the world does). Hubby left Thursday night for a work trip to Fargo (Yah, sure, you betcha!) and then headed to his parents' home up north for the rest of the weekend. I was delighted to have time to myself... although, honestly, I didn't spend much time alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually went out of town for a day with a person very close to me and spent some time reflecting and discussing many different things with this individual. We also shared several dinners over the course of the weekend, something I enjoyed immensely. My mom and aunt and cousin came over to prepare for my future sister-in-law's shower as well... it took place yesterday and I must say it was a great success! The food and drinks were fantastic (thanks to my mom) and my house was spit-shined from top to bottom (thanks to myself). I have to admit, I have a great house. Everyone loved it... most of the relatives hadn't seen it yet and they were impressed. It was built in 1903, and the previous owners totally restored most of it and they did a fantastic job. I just moved in and decorated the place to my own liking. I'll have to post pics one of these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also did some shopping and grabbed coffee with Renee on Saturday... and only managed to spend $2.99 on a sequin-edged tank top! Not a bad purchase. We're getting so excited for our trip to Ixtapa next month!! I can't wait for some fun in the sun! Did I mention it was sub-zero temps all weekend here?? Horribly cold.... like the kind where your fingers freeze &lt;em&gt;inside &lt;/em&gt;your gloves. Not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had this great weekend and then hubby came home. He was happy to see me and told me he had missed me all weekend... unfortunately, I didn't feel the same way. I feel like I'm always looking for reasons to be out of the house and spend less and less time with him, something that makes me feel horribly guilty. Example: On Thursday morning he told me he was going to come home from work and take a cab to the airport. His flight was leaving at 6:30 pm. I worked around the house, went grocery shopping and to the liquor store, and was just getting out of the shower when he got home at 4:30 pm. And then he asked if I could take him to the airport. Not a big deal, right? Spouses do these things for each other with no qualms, right? So why did I get SO freaking annoyed??But of course I said I'd take him, even though I had to be somewhere between 5:30-6:00. I told him we'd have to take his car, as mine was low on gas, so I was hurrying him along (of course he hadn't packed yet, either) and we got in his car to go and guess what? His low fuel light was on. Even so, we made it to the airport, I dropped him off, and was a third of the way home when I looked down and saw his Blackberry sitting in the cupholder. He called me at the same moment, so I had to turn around and go BACK to the airport to drop it off, all the while driving on fumes. He was very apologetic and appreciative, and I felt like a bitch for being so crabby. What's my damn problem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been seeing a marriage and family counselor for the last month or so and he basically told me last week that he thinks there isn't a lot of hope for my marriage, simply because I'm just not willing to put the effort in anymore. He said that I really haven't wavered in what I've been telling him from week to week and that it's okay if I don't love Hubby the way I once did... apparently people change and these things happen. He said I shouldn't feel guilty, and even though Hubby is a fantastic person, you can't always make yourself love someone. I'm having a hard time with this. I asked him if he thought a separation or couples counseling would help... he didn't think so, but I could certainly give it a try. He told me that he's in the business of &lt;em&gt;saving &lt;/em&gt;marriages, not ending them, and he would never tell me these things if he didn't believe them to be true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't know... I've been so unsettled and have felt unhappy and dissatisfied with my marriage for a long time... not that anything really bad has happened... Hubby is good to me and never mistreats me. We have a lovely home and great families. He's charming, funny, warm and attractive. He loves me. Yet I still feel that something is missing. I've chosen to hold off on having children for these very reasons. Why bring a child into the mix when things are so off-kilter? It's not fair. And I &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; want to be a mother, very badly, in fact. Just not with my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get a grip. I just don't know how to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who has been in a similar situation, PLEASE let me know your thoughts/advice. I'm grasping at straws here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-114048605908037591?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/114048605908037591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=114048605908037591' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/114048605908037591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/114048605908037591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/02/getting-grip.html' title='Getting a Grip'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113995484238542820</id><published>2006-02-14T13:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T14:07:24.313-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happily Ever After</title><content type='html'>Happy Valentine’s Day! I don’t care if it has been over-commercialized and turned into a huge money making holiday for retailers… I still love it. And it’s not just about lovers—it’s about family, friends… hell, even pets if they make your life better by being in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here’s a love story in honor of this day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Once upon a time there was a young maiden who was sailing along in life, working and having fun with her friends, trying to figure out where she was heading and enjoying the ride. She’d had several serious, long-term boyfriends, and she thought she’d been “in love” before. She was casually dating a good friend and really wasn’t looking for anything serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, one night she was out with her girlfriends and she spotted the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her life. She didn’t talk to him, but hoped they’d cross paths again. Two nights later, they did. They were both somewhat reserved but partied that night with their friends. They didn’t exchange numbers or even talk much, but somehow she knew she’d see him again. Later that week she saw him at a softball game; he remembered her, too, and that’s when it all began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three months later, he told her he loved her. Six months later, they were engaged. She knew he was the One. They adored each other. He was everything she’d ever wanted; tall, dark, and muscular with a gorgeous body and beautiful eyes and the most sensual mouth she’d ever kissed. Just the thought of him made her heart beat more quickly. He was sensitive and artistic, generous and loving. He spoiled her and always told her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. He was a successful business owner and he had three wonderful young children whom she loved dearly. They couldn’t wait for her to be their “other mom”. Every night they asked their dad if she was coming over to see them. She helped them make cookies and taught them to tie their shoes, took them to the library and the zoo and packed school lunches and drove to soccer games. She was in love with both the father and his children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there were some bumps along the road. His business took up nearly all his time and consumed his thoughts. His ex-wife was a source of conflict and always seemed to be hanging around, even though they couldn’t stand each other and she had her own boyfriend. He pushed hard to increase business, and the young maiden quit her own job and went to work with him to help him be successful. She watched his kids and tried to do everything she could to make him happy. She gave up things she wanted to do so she could do the things he needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he was jealous. So jealous that it caused tension and uncomfortable scenes in many different situations. Even though she obviously adored him, he had issues with trust due to his ex-wife’s infidelity and his parents’ behavior. The One had such a good heart, and she knew it, but gradually it all became too much for her to take. She was often sad and the thought of being without him was almost unbearable, but she realized she was sacrificing herself to stay with him. She was only 26 and she had been with him for two years, the happiest but also the hardest years of her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told him how she was feeling and he promised to change. And he did try to change. He went to counseling. He worked on his behavior. But the timing just wasn’t right anymore. He begged her for another chance and she tried but she knew that at that point it couldn’t work if she stayed. They needed to be apart for a while if it could ever work again. It was, without a doubt, the hardest thing she ever did. She often felt she’d never smile again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she did. She dated other men. He had another child he never planned on with a woman he never loved. They stayed in touch and occasionally talked or had lunch. She thought about him every day, and he about her. He told her over and over about how he had screwed up and how he’d give anything to change it. He told her that they should have been the ones having a child together. He tried to work it out with the other woman, and he loved his new child dearly, but it just wasn’t right. The maiden dated several others and around the time the One was back on his own, she was almost engaged to her future husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got married and he stayed single. She married a darling and wonderful man with no baggage and a fantastic personality; everyone loved him and said they were the perfect couple. She believed that he was perfect for her when they married. But she still often thought about the One; people she knew would tell her that whenever they saw him, he asked about her and told them how she was the love of his life. And even though she loved her husband, she never felt the fire for him that she always felt for the One. She tried to put it out of her mind. They hadn't worked for a reason, right? She had a different life now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn’t see or talk to the One at all for two years, from before she was engaged until almost her first anniversary. Then she ran into him at a concert. He was 30 lbs. heavier and his hair was grayer, but her heart still skipped a beat. She introduced him to her husband and they made small talk. After her husband went to sit down, they chatted some more. She asked the One about his kids and his business. He told her that he thought about her every day. She gave him a hug and told him to call her for lunch sometime if he was near her office. Then she went back to her husband and they went about their life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But something had been missing for a while. There was no passion. She loved him, but she wasn’t in love with him. She tried for a year and a half after her wedding to rekindle the flames. Her husband was a good man; he loved her dearly and treated her well. He was kind and loving, a great friend and companion. But sometimes they seemed like nothing more than roommates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through it all she kept thinking about the One. She tried to fight it and put him out of her mind. But the thoughts broke through—she found herself having dreams about him on a regular basis. She tried to forget about him but it seemed impossible. Everywhere she went, she looked for him, hoped to see him. Finally, 9 months after she saw him at the concert, she called him to see if he could meet her to help with a marketing project for her class. He was happy to oblige.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thought she’d see him and she’d realize that she had the perfect life now without him, that she was so much happier and she was crazy to even think twice about him. She thought she’d tell herself she was stupid to even let him cross her mind. He was older and already had a family and a different lifestyle. And she was married, after all. She’d taken a vow in front of God and all her family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But her plan backfired. It was still there. Even though he was heavier, older, grayer, she still felt that feeling she’d always felt at the mere mention of his name. The One felt it, too. He told her that being there with her was like a dream. And he was different… in so many good ways. He’d continued to go to counseling to take care of himself and he’d been single for two, almost three years. He spent almost all his free time with his kids, going to their games and activities, taking them on trips and being a wonderful single father. His business was booming. He didn’t go out and seldom drank. She knew it was all true because others had told her the same things about him. He was still so beautiful to her in so many ways, and she to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an innocent dinner in a public place, and the time flew. They were the last ones at the restaurant. As silly as it sounds, the next day she felt like her heart was breaking. She didn’t think it would have been possible to miss him any more. Two days later her sent her an email (yeah… this is a modern fairytale) to say how much he enjoyed seeing her and how much it meant to him. He told her the reason he’d never called her for lunch after seeing her at the concert was because it was too hard to see her and know he couldn’t have her. She was miserable from wanting him and knowing she had a husband at home who loved her and whose heart would break if she told him how she felt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She talked with the One and they had dinner again. She felt guilty (as she should) because her husband didn’t know and because of her feelings, even though they didn’t act on them. She knew she’d had problems with her husband long before this, even though he’d been ignoring the issues and pretending everything was fine. It wasn’t like he was doing anything bad; they just lacked passion, chemistry… they bickered often and didn’t seem to be having the fun newlyweds should be having. They rarely made love, and it never felt right to her. She loved him, but she wasn’t in love. She wanted dearly to have children, but not with her husband then because she felt that everything was too unstable in her own mind. He continued to believe that it would all be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she was realistic; she knew that the problems with her husband were not because of anyone else; they’d existed for a long while and she’d been trying in her own heart to work on them. She believed when she got married that she’d be married forever. But it was hard for her to pretend to be happy when she really wasn’t that happy. She started to question herself and wonder if she was depressed. But everything else—work, school, family, friends, health and fitness—was going very well. It was her marriage that worried her. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just be happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone else thought she and hubby were the perfect couple. She was always smiling and living up to that image. There were hints about having a family. And her family adored—simply adored—hubby. And hubby’s family was nice and normal and really quite wonderful as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she told hubby, again, that she wasn’t happy and she couldn’t guarantee that things would work out. He was devastated. Even though she’d told him many times that she wasn’t happy, he seemed shocked. She tried to explain the issues to him. Understandably, he became distant and withdrawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She knew that if things with him ended it would have to be because of problems between the two of them, and no other reasons would suffice. It couldn’t be because of someone else, simply because the issues they had were not created by someone else and they needed to try to solve them and not look for the easy way out. Even so, she knew she would need time to heal if they went their own ways. She started seeing a counselor in the hopes of finding a solution or healing the rift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stayed with hubby but was still consumed with thoughts of the One. Why was it so hard to get him out of her head? She knew the struggles they’d face if they were ever together. He had four children, but wanted to have more with her. She dreamed of a child with his beautiful brown eyes and dark lashes. He told her she had to figure things out in her marriage and he didn’t want to be the reason it didn’t work out. She was grateful to him for this and respected him for it as well. He told her he would be there if and when she figured things out. He told her he’d never stopped loving her or wanting her and never would, but that he wanted her to be happy with whoever she chose. He told her he’d be her friend and help in any way he could. He never pressured her in any way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she kept trying with hubby, living what felt like a charade from day to day. She felt terrible to see his normally lively, happy face so morose. She didn’t know what to do. They talked about going to a counselor. He still didn’t understand their problems, and wanted to know why she was falling out of love with him. She tried to explain but couldn’t even figure it out herself. It had all happened gradually, quietly slipping away, bit by bit. He was pretty much perfect; she knew it and so did everyone else. They had the nearly perfect life. She berated herself daily for not feeling the way she should. He was trying so hard. It wasn’t his fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She struggled with staying with a wonderful person she wasn’t in love with and making the best of a situation that wasn’t all bad. And she wondered about the possibilities of being with the love of her life, the One she had never truly forgotten and thought about every day since the day they’d met. For six years since they’d parted ways, they’d both thought about each other and dreamed of being together again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thought of the One especially this Valentine’s Day, like she does every year, and remembered how he asked her to be his wife on this day eight years before.  And she wondered again, for the millionth time, do you stay because you should, even though your heart’s not it? Or can your heart’s dreams become reality?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do fairytales ever really come true?  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113995484238542820?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113995484238542820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113995484238542820' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113995484238542820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113995484238542820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/02/happily-ever-after.html' title='Happily Ever After'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113988084546322840</id><published>2006-02-13T17:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T17:34:08.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/1600/DLC-pics%20002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/320/DLC-pics%20002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/1600/DLC-pics%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/320/DLC-pics%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can you resist that little face?? (If you're not an animal lover, stop reading now... boring post ahead about how wonderful my dog is!)&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it amazing how our pets can always make us feel better? This is my girl, and she is very loved and VERY spoiled! I adopted her from a shelter in October of 2002, and she is pretty much my number one fan. I've heard that happens often with shelter animals, that they bond very strongly with whoever adopts them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still don't understand why anyone gave her up. The info at the shelter said that she wasn't housebroken and didn't listen... neither of which was true. I've never had one issue with her potty training or basic commands. When I saw her the first time her hair was so long and mangy that she didn't even look like a Cocker Spaniel... plus, she was only 19 lbs (which is almost 20% underweight for her) and she had an ear infection and a respiratory infection... she even snotted when she sneezed! Poor girl! She is truly the most affectionate, loving little dog. She gets a little freaked out by strange men once in a while (I'm pretty certain she was mistreated and neglected in her former life) but always warms up to people easily. I've never been a little dog person (I had a German Shepherd as well) but now I'm a BIG fan. I'd get another in a heartbeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's also a close talker. She loves to be on your lap, and wants you to know she's there. If nothing else, there's always a paw on my leg or her head resting on some part of my body. How can I not spoil her?? I think the next purchase will be the hot pink leather collar with silver studs that I saw at Petco yesterday. What the hell... she deserves it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113988084546322840?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113988084546322840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113988084546322840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113988084546322840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113988084546322840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-girl.html' title='My Girl'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113968083124619179</id><published>2006-02-11T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T10:00:31.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unsettled</title><content type='html'>I feel like my life is in limbo right now. Don't get me wrong, many things are going well... I like my job for the most part, I'm finally almost done with school, I have a wonderful family and great friends, a beautiful home and the sweetest little dog in the world. My husband is outgoing, funny, cute and everybody loves him. He makes a great living and he loves me deeply. He's ready to have kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't feel the same way about him anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And therein lies the problem. I feel that I've been slowly falling out of love with him for the last year and a half, maybe longer. I still love him, but I'm not &lt;em&gt;in love&lt;/em&gt; with him. We've had our ups and downs since we've been married and things have not been terrible by any means. Yes, we've bickered a lot, and things haven't been great in the bedroom for a long while. He still treats me really well and I know he loves me, but I don't miss him when he's gone and I look forward to the time I spend without him. I try to be out of the house as much as I can. I don't want him to touch me. I feel terrible saying that but it's the truth. I feel like he's a great friend and roommate, but that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've told him many times in the last year and a half that we have some things we need to work on, and we've argued about it and said yes, we'll try this, blah blah blah, but it seems like it goes in one ear and out the other with him. For a while I thought I was falling into a depression again but really, everything else in my life is going great. The only thing causing me stress right now is our relationship. I finally told him last week that I can't guarantee that things are going to work out with us, and he seemed just shocked. That only frustrated me more because I feel like I've been telling him that we have issues for the longest time. Yes, maybe they're not huge and earth-shattering, but the small things have been slowly chipping away and creating bigger cracks in our foundation. As much as I long to be a mother, I have no desire to get pregnant right now because I just don't know what's going to happen. I can't justify bringing a child into the world when my future is uncertain... it just doesn't seem right. And Hubby would be a great father, I know he would, so what's wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone thinks we're the perfect couple... &lt;em&gt;everyone&lt;/em&gt;. And from the outside, we probably seem to be perfect for each other. And I know the first two years of marriage are supposed to be tough, but aren't they also supposed to be wonderful? Looking back, I feel like I've just been disappointed in so many ways. And it could be that my expectations are too high, although I've never planned on rainbows and sunshine every day. I know that real life is hard; marriage takes work. But shouldn't I &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; to work on it?? Shouldn't I still feel that little spark when I catch his eye across the room? Aren't we still supposed to be having hot honeymoon sex? Hell, we didn't even have hot honeymoon sex on our honeymoon! On our trip to Ireland last year for our first anniversary, we were ready to come home a day early! Come &lt;em&gt;on- &lt;/em&gt;that's just not normal, in my opinion. We bicker about so many things. I'm so frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we bought our new house, we didn't christen it for two whole weeks... again, not normal. And I'm a very sexual person... I just don't feel that way about him anymore. I feel so bad about that, and I've tried to make things better and more exciting but it just doesn't seem to work. And Hubby is a good looking man... he's sweet and very kind but he just doesn't fire me up. We get into arguments every time we walk the dog together. We argue about new dishes. And the arguments never end in any kind of great, fun, make-up session. We silently stew and then he acts like nothing happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I can't stress how wonderful Hubby is... my family and friends adore him. My four brothers call him their fifth brother. His family is wonderful as well, warm and loving and just wonderful people. So what's wrong with me?? Why can't I just be happy with what I have and live my life and be content? Is chemistry really that important? I just can't handle the thought of going through life not feeling that spark for my husband. I've been trying to rekindle it for a long time... we've only been married for less than two years, for crying out loud! And I know lots of other young marrieds who don't have these issues. I've started seeing a counselor to try to figure things out, and I'm seriously considering a separation. Hubby continues to think things aren't that bad. It breaks my heart to know that I may have to hurt him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm worried. And I'm scared.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113968083124619179?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113968083124619179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113968083124619179' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113968083124619179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113968083124619179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/02/unsettled.html' title='Unsettled'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113889843914100929</id><published>2006-02-02T08:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T08:40:39.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Look into my crystal ball...</title><content type='html'>As I mentioned last week, I went to visit a psychic on Monday… and it was pretty amazing. Now, let me just preface this by saying that I’m not a person who has ever really been into the whole mystic scene; in fact, I don’t even read my horoscope daily. However, I do find it interesting, and after hearing about this woman from my future sister-in-law, I decided to give her a call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, she sounded very nice and normal on the phone and she was booked out through April. &lt;em&gt;April&lt;/em&gt;. And she only gets clients through word of mouth. Luckily for me, she had one cancellation so I was able to get in this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She lives in a townhome and operates out of her house. She’s married with two kids and a sweet little dog. She just seemed like a nice mom-type lady. She’s also very spiritual and believes in God and angel guides, but is not over-the-top religious, which was fine by me.&lt;br /&gt;I felt comfortable with her right away. We started with an angel card reading and then moved on to more personal things. She didn’t ask any questions about my life AT ALL before we started, so she knew nothing about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me that she could see a mother type figure but not my mother… possibly my mother’s mother? Check. She said she was so happy to see me and told her that I had been her “special” one. Check. She said that my grandmother was a beautiful lady who had been very particular about her hair and had it styled regularly. Check. She said that grandma had some kind of cancer and then motioned to her mid-section… was it in this area? Yes, I said, kidney. Check. She said that my grandmother knew she would die more quickly than everyone thought and was this correct? Check. She didn’t want anyone to fuss or worry over her so she didn’t speak about it much. Check. She said that my mom would be fine and that my mother had been gradually preparing herself for my grandmother’s death and letting go little by little, even though it had been a quick illness of less than a year. Check (my mom had told me this same thing almost verbatim. Crazy.).Then, what really got me was when she said “Your grandmother thanks you for the spoken word. She said that it was just beautiful and from the heart.” I was stunned. How would she have known that I’d done a eulogy? I've never before done any public speaking, and usually break out in a cold sweat when I have to speak to a crowd. I had goosebumps, not to mention tears when she told me this. I know that some of it may sound generalized but there were enough specific details that she couldn’t possibly just guess, so I do believe she has some type of psychic power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also had a lot to say about my marriage and the other love I just can’t seem to forget, very specific, concrete things that gave me the chills. It was bizarre, but not in a creepy way… it was bizarre in a good, amazing way. I’m not saying that I believe everything she told me is the complete truth and totally accurate, because it wasn’t; however, it was impressive enough that I would definitely go back to see her again. She tape records the whole thing as well (90 minutes!) so you can take it with you and listen to it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had a lot more to say about my grandma, my husband, my love, my career, children, and the future in general. It was a really great experience, and I’m glad I went. Again, I won’t be planning my life around this reading, but it was pretty damn cool. If anyone lives in the Twin Cities area and wants her info, just shoot me an email and I’d be glad to give you her number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, go cleanse your aura!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113889843914100929?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113889843914100929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113889843914100929' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113889843914100929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113889843914100929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/02/look-into-my-crystal-ball.html' title='Look into my crystal ball...'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113883500501135287</id><published>2006-02-01T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T07:31:17.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweaty scary</title><content type='html'>So I finally shaved my legs this morning, and let me tell you, folks, it wasn't pretty. I tend to let the leg hair go a bit in the winter months, so it's always a fun project to finally shave. And did I mention that I'm a hairy bastard? It's that bit of eastern European heritage. Thanks, dad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yoga tonight and I decided that since I'm spending 90 minutes in 105 degree heat it would probably make more sense to wear shorts and not long workout pants, thus necessitating hair-free legs. But on the other hand, I didn't wash my hair today precisely because I will be sweating buckets later so why wash my hair when it will only be nasty later on? Is that gross? My hair is thick so I usually wash it every other day, something that some of my fine haired friends find very wrong. But it dries my hair out if I wash it and blow dry it too much. And there's no way you can get a comb through it without conditioner. My brothers generally refer to nasty women as "Sweaty Scaries," and I definitely don't want to fall into that category on a regular basis. Sure, I'll be a scrub on the weekend but I don't want to leave any grease marks on the pillow, ya know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The freshly mowed legs did, however, inspire me to purchase an awesome bikini today at Tar-get Boutique. My friend Renee and I are planning a little getaway somewhere warm next month... hopefully Phoenix to visit one of her friends. Hubby and I had originally planned to go to Cabo San Lucas with another couple of close friends but it's just too expensive and I can't justify spending $4K on a trip right now. We went to London and Ireland last year for our first anniversary and that cost a pretty penny; the year before that we went to Jamaica for 10 days for our honeymoon. This summer we went to Toronto for a wedding and then I went out East this fall to visit my friend Susie. Before that we went to Cancun and New York, so travel has been pretty plentiful. We're not broke or anything, but we're not exactly big pimpin', either, so cheap travel is the way to go right now. He'll probably do a golf trip with some buddies when I go with Renee. Either way, we'll get some sun in before the winter is over! And I also just found out that Erin and Pete are getting married in Vegas instead of out East, so that's another little getaway to look forward to in the fall. I'm the matron of honor, so I'm definitely required to be there... perhaps a few days early for some "girls only" time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to my second counseling appointment last night and I think I like the guy. I wasn't sure after the first appointment... it's just so much bullshit to wade through to get someone up to speed and tell all the Jerry Springer details of how you've gotten to where you are now, blah, blah, blah. But I think he's cool. He seems to have ideas and direction, unlike some who just sit there and nod their heads and say, "Mmm-hmm... yes... really?" I haven't seen a psychologist for several years, and I've never really developed a long term thing with any of the ones I've visited. It's not a bad idea, though, and I know plenty of people who go on a regular basis. Right now I'm not battling depression, it's more of a relationship thing and how I'm feeling about that. Don't get me wrong, Hubby is great; I'm the one who's fucked up... at least I think I am. It's complicated when the heart is involved. I'm hoping this will help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I didn't realize that my comments were set to require users to register before commenting... that has been changed! So dammit, people... leave me a comment! Okay, off to sweat my ass off at yoga... happy trails!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113883500501135287?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113883500501135287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113883500501135287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113883500501135287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113883500501135287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/02/sweaty-scary.html' title='Sweaty scary'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113867179976275008</id><published>2006-01-30T17:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T06:58:58.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>75 Things (Because I'm just not interesting enough to have 100)</title><content type='html'>Since I'm somewhat computer illiterate as well as new to this whole blogging thing, I can't figure out how the hell to post this as a sidebar. Anyone, anyone? Bueller? Any help would be appreciated! Anyway, here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I have four younger brothers... I'm the oldest and the only girl. And my brothers rock the casbah.&lt;br /&gt;2. I am a total dog freak. Up until recently, I had a German Shepherd and a Cocker Spaniel. I had to put my shepherd to sleep two weeks ago. She was a sweet, beautiful girl.&lt;br /&gt;3. I played women's varsity fast pitch softball in college. I was a pitcher.&lt;br /&gt;4. I'm mostly Irish, Polish, Swedish/Danish, and French. In other words, kind of a mutt.&lt;br /&gt;5. I can touch my nose with my tongue.&lt;br /&gt;6. I love accessories... purses and jewelry are my weaknesses.&lt;br /&gt;7. I have battled depression for the last 12 years.&lt;br /&gt;8. I've had several works of fiction published in regional literary journals.&lt;br /&gt;9. Ketchup is the one condiment I could never live without. I even like it on bacon.&lt;br /&gt;10. My parents are two of my best friends.&lt;br /&gt;11. I have been truly in love twice in my life.&lt;br /&gt;12. Turquoise is my favorite color.&lt;br /&gt;13. I'm a very fast reader... unless the book sucks. Then I just quit reading it.&lt;br /&gt;14. Everyone has always told me that I should be a teacher and a coach.&lt;br /&gt;15. I have lived in Minnesota my whole life, except for four years of college in Wisconsin, and that doesn't really count.&lt;br /&gt;16. I love to travel and I'm always ready to see someplace new, but Minnesota will always be home to me.&lt;br /&gt;17. Insincere people piss me off.&lt;br /&gt;18. I don't like drama.&lt;br /&gt;19. I really wish I could sing.&lt;br /&gt;20. I miss my dog terribly when I go out of town.&lt;br /&gt;21. Frogs and toads creep me out. I'd never hurt one of the little guys but I prefer that they stay FAR away from me.&lt;br /&gt;22. I've been semi-stalked twice by ex-boyfriends.&lt;br /&gt;23. I'm usually too trusting.&lt;br /&gt;24. I was raised Catholic but I don't necessarily agree with all the teachings of the Catholic Church.&lt;br /&gt;25. I don't usually go to church, but I pray daily.&lt;br /&gt;26. I also swear a lot.&lt;br /&gt;27. I'm still working on my bachelor's degree- three classes to go!!&lt;br /&gt;28. I'm a licensed real estate agent, but I'm not currently working in that industry.&lt;br /&gt;29. I've owned investment property in the past and discovered that I'm not enough of a hard ass to be a good landlord.&lt;br /&gt;30. I can't wait to have children and be a mom sometime soon. I hope and pray that I'll be able to.&lt;br /&gt;31. I'm a Libra.&lt;br /&gt;32. I hate coffee.&lt;br /&gt;33. I'm not very punctual, but I'm working on it.&lt;br /&gt;34. I love entertaining guests.&lt;br /&gt;35. My house was built in 1903 and it was completely restored by the previous owners.&lt;br /&gt;36. We looked at 35 other houses before finding our current home.&lt;br /&gt;37. I grew up in the suburbs, and now I LOVE living in the city of St. Paul.&lt;br /&gt;38. I grew up in a hockey family. My dad is almost 62 and still plays twice a week, as do two of my brothers.&lt;br /&gt;39. I don't know nearly as much about the game of hockey as I should.&lt;br /&gt;40. I used to be very competitive, but I've chilled out a lot in the last ten years.&lt;br /&gt;41. I've always been a good sport, though. I can't stand sore losers.&lt;br /&gt;42. I've been married for a year and a half.&lt;br /&gt;43. I have another great love of my life that I still think about every single day.&lt;br /&gt;44. I would rather read a good book than watch TV or a movie.&lt;br /&gt;45. I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up.&lt;br /&gt;46. I like girlfriends that act like guys... no gossip, no drama, no bullshit.(okay, maybe just a little gossip ;)&lt;br /&gt;47. If I was just starting college, I'd consider becoming a veterinarian (even though I hate math and science).&lt;br /&gt;48. I'm very non-confrontational. Conflict makes me uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;49. But if you talk trash about my family or friends, I WILL defend them to the end.&lt;br /&gt;50. I work in financial services at an art school.&lt;br /&gt;51. In the words of my dad, I believe that eating is one of the great pleasures in life.&lt;br /&gt;52. I'm a night owl.&lt;br /&gt;53. And it's hard for me to get up in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;54. I'm very diplomatic (it's that Libra thing).&lt;br /&gt;55. When I was a kid my eyes were blue, but now they're green.&lt;br /&gt;56. I consider myself to be a creative person.&lt;br /&gt;57. I've been told that I'm low maintenance.&lt;br /&gt;58. I'm a diehard bargain shopper, but I don't mind paying full price for quality products.&lt;br /&gt;59. I think the reality shows on MTV are so bad they make me crazy!&lt;br /&gt;60. I'm becoming a BIG fan of Bikram yoga.&lt;br /&gt;61. I would love to visit Africa someday... but I'm not sure which countries yet.&lt;br /&gt;62. I am a sucker for tropical vacations.&lt;br /&gt;63. I love big, solid, masculine men with dark hair and eyes.&lt;br /&gt;64. But blue eyes are a close second.&lt;br /&gt;65. For some reason I have dated a lot of older men (8+ years) in my life.&lt;br /&gt;66. And no, I don't have any daddy issues. My dad rocks.&lt;br /&gt;67. I'm a big Elvis fan.&lt;br /&gt;68. But I thought Graceland was totally cheesy.&lt;br /&gt;69. I like to go to Gopher hockey games more than Wild games.&lt;br /&gt;70. Although I'm not really into many pro sports.&lt;br /&gt;71. I would love to work at an animal shelter.&lt;br /&gt;72. I believe in Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;73. I used to have my belly button pierced.&lt;br /&gt;74. I have two tatoos.&lt;br /&gt;75. Spring is my favorite season.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113867179976275008?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113867179976275008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113867179976275008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113867179976275008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113867179976275008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/01/75-things-because-im-just-not.html' title='75 Things (Because I&apos;m just not interesting enough to have 100)'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113847016080176388</id><published>2006-01-28T09:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T07:32:44.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A little somethin' somethin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/1600/Dec-Jan%2006%20034.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I thought I'd post a few pics... I know, so exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/1600/Dec-Jan%2006%20034.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/320/Dec-Jan%2006%20034.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;This is me with Oliver, a friend's new Maltese puppy. Generally speaking, I like bigger dogs, but he's so freaking cute! And yes, I am wearing a newsboy/Rasta man hat, and I have already received a large ration of shit about it from my brothers and dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/1600/Summer-Fall%202005%20059.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/1600/May%2004-%20Mar%2005%20004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/320/May%2004-%20Mar%2005%20004.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;On our honeymoon in Jamaica. Hubby hates this pic but I think it's kinda cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/1600/Mother"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/1600/May%2004-%20Mar%2005%20035.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/320/May%2004-%20Mar%2005%20035.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/1600/May%2004-%20Mar%2005%20035.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Freshly scrubbed and shiny on our trip to NYC. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/1600/Summer-Fall%202005%20059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2143/2032/320/Summer-Fall%202005%20059.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Just another Friday night at home. Okay, so it was actually Halloween... hubby is sort of Elton John-ish and I'm the metal groupie/biker chic. You can't really see them in the photo, but he's wearing blue pleather pants with tapered legs that we got at Ragstock for three bucks. It was hot. Good times. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113847016080176388?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113847016080176388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113847016080176388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113847016080176388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113847016080176388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/01/little-somethin-somethin.html' title='A little somethin&apos; somethin&apos;'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113839840269914012</id><published>2006-01-27T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T13:46:42.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF</title><content type='html'>This week has been longer than Ron Jeremy's cock. I'm so freaking glad it's Friday!! Each day has felt like an eon! Not sure why... maybe it's because we've had all these four day weeks in the last month due to the holidays. I guess I've gotten spoiled. It doesn't help that I'm moving to a somewhat different position and learning a bunch of new shit all at once. Lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, at least I can relax this weekend. I had an awesome time with Mike and Susie last weekend, but it will be nice to stay in town for a change. Next weekend we head up north to visit Hubby's parents, the weekend after that we have plans Friday and I work Saturday, and then on the 19th I'm having a shower for my future sister-in-law. Our weekends have been insane ever since last May. We've only had two or three where we didn't have plans, and quite honestly, that's getting old. I like to chill the fuck out once in a while, ya know? I'm getting tired of all the running around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to having coffee with some friends tomorrow and spending some time with my family as well. Hubby will be out of town Saturday night to see the Gopher/Badger hockey game in Madison, and I have to admit that I do enjoy having the house to myself sometimes. I REALLY need to clean so maybe I'll do that and then spend some quality time with my little dog... she's so damn cute. I really have to post some pictures this weekend. Maybe I'll try to do that, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so Monday I'm planning to go see a psychic. I know, I know, it's probably a little nuts and I pretty much have to promise my first-born child to pay for it, but I've heard lots of good things about this woman from people whose opinions I trust. And she's not some crazy Mama Cleo palm-reader freak, either, so I decided to give it a shot. I'm sure she'll help me solve all my problems. Riiiiight. Either way, it will be interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I feel like eating every salty, greasy, and chocolately snack in sight... thanks, PMS! So far I've been pretty good, but I am planning to have a nice, juicy burger and some onion rings tonight with Hubby and my bro Joey and his girlfriend at a nice little dive bar up in Scandia. Why does the food always taste so much better in those places? Maybe I could just have them deep fry the whole meal for me... mmmm, grease. Yummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God for Bikram yoga! I don't feel so bad eating crap when I know I'll be sweating a quarter of my body weight off three times a week. I can't believe what a great workout that is. Last night I went for the fourth time and it seems like it's getting harder instead of easier. I think I just actually know what the hell I'm doing now so I'm actually doing the poses correctly. The first night I was just trying to act like a big girl and not laugh at the loud breathing and the weird positions. Yes, I'm mature like that. I also try not to smile when I see middle aged men in class wearing nothing but tight biker shorts that cling to their junk. Or should I say "manhood?" I love it when they say that in books. Another favorite of mine is "throbbing member." Seriously, what the hell?? Anyway, what's your favorite? I'll leave you to ponder that. Happy Friday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113839840269914012?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113839840269914012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113839840269914012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113839840269914012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113839840269914012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/01/tgif.html' title='TGIF'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113779238547696291</id><published>2006-01-20T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T13:27:22.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Layin' low</title><content type='html'>Well, I haven't been very good about posting lately, so I guess I better work on that. It's been kind of a hard month so far. Monday was really nice, though... spent the day with my mom and great-aunt (grandma's sister and oldest friend) and another aunt. We chatted, had lunch, shopped, had appetizers and dessert, and chatted some more. It was great to be able to spend some time together; of course, we missed grandma, as she was always a part of these excursions. I still can't believe she's really gone. I don't think it's really, truly hit me yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily this weekend I'm getting out of town for a couple of days to see some of my closest friends. One of them, Susie, was my college roommate. The other, Mike, is the father of a guy I dated in college. He was like our surrogate dad while we were in school, and has become very close to my family. He's so awesome... he's 69 years old and he's built like a brick shit house! The guy is huge... he's always been into working out and lifting weights, etc., but lately he's been having some health problems so it'll be really nice to see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Susie is a riot... she's just a little wacky but that's why I love her so much! The chick is seriously funny, and we always laugh a lot. Sadly, we can even have a good time watching "Dynasty" re-runs-- now that's a good friend. She's been battling a bipolar disorder for close to 15 years now, and she's doing a lot better than she was at one point in time. She got her Master's Degree a year ago and now she's teaching English as a second language, which she loves, so it's always great to see how far she's come. I can't wait to see both of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I started Bikram yoga this week. The second night was actually harder than the first, but I loved it! I'll be going back this weekend. I never thought yoga could be such a good work out, but it pretty much kicked my ass! I also started my two classes (psychology and advanced writing) so after this semester I'll only need one more to graduate! I cannot fucking wait to be done! I'm even considering pursuing a Master's in the next year or two, but we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is getting busier as well so I guess that's a good thing... it definitely makes the time go faster. Somewhere in there I also need to finish my real estate continuing ed and also plan a shower for my future sister-in-law... the wedding's only 3 months away! It's always good to have something to look forward to, right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'll be up in the northwoods of Wisconsin, staying at a dive hotel and drinking Leinie's for most of the weekend. Have a good one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113779238547696291?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113779238547696291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113779238547696291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113779238547696291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113779238547696291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/01/layin-low.html' title='Layin&apos; low'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113700451627643946</id><published>2006-01-11T10:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T10:35:16.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye, Grandma</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;On January 3rd, 2006, my beloved grandmother passed away. It was quicker than we expected, but it was very peaceful and dignified, just as she deserved. I haven't been able to absorb it all quite yet, and I'm feeling somewhat numb. I did, however, manage to write something that I read at her funeral. Here it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;When I was a little girl, there was no I looked forward to seeing more than my grandma. Even though she only lived five minutes away, I cried whenever she tried to leave. She would either have to sneak away when I wasn’t looking, or else take me home with her for the night, which she did many times. “Don’t go, grandma!” I would call out, standing at the doorway, watching her walk away. And she would always turn around and come back and hug me and say, “Oh honey, don’t cry, grandma has to go home now. I’ll see you again.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who could blame me for crying? If you asked any of her grandchildren I’m sure they’d agree that there was no one like grandma, and no better place than grandma and grandpa’s house. Where else would you have a captive audience who thought your every word and action was perfect? Who else was always happy to see you and never got mad, even when you spilled your milk or tracked dirt on the clean floor? She had a front closet full of bottled pop, three kinds of ice cream in the freezer at all times, and, as she would always say, “oodles” of chips and candy. Staying overnight was the best. She would roll out the blue sleeping bags in the front room and she always left her bedroom door open all night, just in case you got scared. We stayed up late together and watched re-runs of the Jeffersons and usually had one of her favorite snacks, popcorn or a bowl of cereal, before bed. Then, when you could barely keep your eyes open, she’d tuck you in for the night, her upswept hairdo wrapped up in a paper turban, the scent of Oil of Olay on her skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through the years she came to countless sporting events, plays, concerts, and anything else her grandchildren were involved in. It was a guarantee that, in her eyes, you would always be the best one out there. And even though you knew you really weren’t, it made you feel good just to know that someone thought you were that special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also had a way of making birthdays and holidays seem like the most important days in the year. As children, she always made sure she brought a small present for all the kids in the family, not just the birthday boy or girl… who else would think to do something so small yet so thoughtful? And although there were cards and treats on other holidays, she was definitely the queen of Christmas. From her year round shopping to the two weeks it took to decorate the house and wrap presents, she wowed us every year. And it wasn’t just the gifts… it was how you always knew there’d be Christmas lights on the front lamppost and the big red Santa boots on the front step. It was the long table set up downstairs, decorated with Santa placemats and candy cane salt and pepper shakers. It was the men and kids doing dishes after dinner, the anticipation of waiting to open your first present because you just &lt;em&gt;knew&lt;/em&gt; she got you exactly what you wanted. It was the traditions that she and grandpa built, the love of family that they instilled in each of us, time and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I grew older, her presence in my life never dimmed. She sent me letters when I went away to college and always insisted that I call her collect when I wanted to talk. She helped me pack up and move more than once, and somehow, she always found a way to pick up the check when we went out to eat. “Don’t you be spending your money on me, honey,” she’d say. “I have everything I need.” Up until recently, she could shop anyone under the table, and she knew every bargain spot in town. She was generous to a fault, she was stubborn at times, and she had a great sense of humor. She could take a joke and she could give you a hard time right back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was always great to have her with us at parties and gatherings. I tried to describe her to my friends and other people before they met her. “She’s not your typical grandma,” I’d tell them. “She’s better. She’s fun, and hip, and she fits right in with any crowd.” After they met her, they understood. “Your grandma is so cool,” they’d say. “She’s awesome!” They didn’t have to convince me. I knew she was more than just a grandmother; she was also a great friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was blessed to spend a few hours with her on the day she passed away. Every time a new visitor showed up (and there were many), she would smile that beautiful smile that lit up her face and could make you think you just made her day. As uncomfortable as she was, she still found the strength to put up a good front and make the rest of us feel good. She laughed and joked around, and talked about going home in a few days to see her canine “friends.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so we are here today to say goodbye to a woman who has made my life, and the lives of all who’ve known her, much better and richer by the gifts she gave us during her lifetime… the love, the laughter, the support, the strength, and so many wonderful memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like when I was little, I want so badly to say, “Don’t go grandma! Please, don’t go.”&lt;br /&gt;But we should listen to her words, just as she would always tell me: “Don’t cry. I’ll see you again.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we must say, “Goodbye, grandma. We’ll miss you so very much. We love you more than you’ll ever know. And we &lt;em&gt;will&lt;/em&gt; see you again.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113700451627643946?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113700451627643946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113700451627643946' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113700451627643946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113700451627643946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2006/01/goodbye-grandma.html' title='Goodbye, Grandma'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20314844.post-113589251909409837</id><published>2005-12-29T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-29T13:41:59.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahead of the Game</title><content type='html'>So I’m starting my New Year’s resolutions a little bit early. Okay, so I really don’t ever actually DO New Year’s resolutions…but there’s a first time for everything, right? I’m the type of person who needs a goal or some sort of challenge to motivate myself. I think I get bored too easily… or maybe I just get distracted. For instance, if I have a project to work on for school, I can usually find at least ten other things that must be done immediately, such as re-organizing my canned goods, trimming individual split ends with a fingernail scissors, or cleaning my dog’s ears to make sure they don’t smell like sweaty hockey equipment. You know, really important things. In my defense, however, this only happens when it’s something I really don’t want to do. Give me a task I’m excited about and I’ll work that bitch over into the wee hours of the night until it’s done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some plans for this year. Some of them big, some not so much. Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)      Finally get my bachelor’s degree. I’m only three classes away, and I’m taking two of them this spring. I’ll do the last in the summer- I work full time and don’t think I can handle all three at once.&lt;br /&gt;2)      Get straight A’s in aforementioned classes.&lt;br /&gt;3)      Spend as much time as possible with my grandma. She was diagnosed with kidney cancer literally out of the blue last spring. No symptoms, no pain, nothing except a slight abnormality in her urine. It was already at stage IV by that time, which means it had spread to the lungs. Kidney cancer doesn’t respond to chemo or radiation, so her only option was to try drug therapy with a shot 3x/week. She has been incredible during the whole thing… very brave and her attitude is outstanding. We have been exceptionally close since the day I was born, and I can’t imagine a world without her in it.&lt;br /&gt;4)      Start going to church. I’ve been saying this for a long time, and I think it’s something I need to do.&lt;br /&gt;5)      Workout regularly, 3x/week. I’ve been doing okay on this, but I still need a little bit more consistency. I’m going to Cabo in March so I’ve got to be bikini-ready by then!&lt;br /&gt;6)      Make a better effort to slow down and manage my time and stay in touch with the people who really matter in my life. Hubby and I have been going literally non-stop every weekend since May and I just can’t deal anymore! Being busy is good, but come on, people! That’s just too much. I need to prioritize and say no when I don’t want to do something instead of feeling obligated. The last few weeks we’ve had something going every night of the week, and I’m so damn tired that I could probably sleep for 24 hours straight.&lt;br /&gt;7)      Work with my dog to combat her anti-social dog-hating tendencies. Now, let me just say that my dog is most likely the cutest, sweetest, cuddliest dog ev-ah, but she does not like other dogs. Loves, loves, loves people but when it comes to other mutts she’s all “Hell, no!” I adopted her from a shelter when she was a year and a half old, and I don’t think she was ever socialized as a pup. In fact, I’m quite certain she was neglected and possibly abused. She did learn to get along with my other dog (who outweighed her by a good 75 lbs) but she has regressed back to her old ways in recent years. Yes, I know-- it’s fascinating stuff.&lt;br /&gt;8)      I need to figure out my marriage. I’ve been married for a little over a year and a half, and things just haven’t gone as I expected. I can’t say that anything really bad has happened, because it hasn’t… there’s just this lack of something and I need to get to the bottom of it. Things need to change or else I don’t know what will happen… not to be cryptic, and there &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; more to it, but for now let’s just suffice to say that it’s on my mind all the time.&lt;br /&gt;9)      If #8 gets cleared up, I’d like to start a family. I’m not getting any younger, and I hope and pray that motherhood is in my future. Everything else needs to be squared away first, though.&lt;br /&gt;10)  Start volunteering at an animal shelter or in a literacy program for English as a second language.&lt;br /&gt;11)  Along those same lines, brush up on my Spanish so I can be somewhat conversational.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it. My to-do list for 2006. The last year has been full of ups and downs, but I really can’t complain. (Well, I can, but that would make me a whiny bitch and we don’t want that… at least not today)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s to looking forward instead of back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20314844-113589251909409837?l=told-you.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/feeds/113589251909409837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20314844&amp;postID=113589251909409837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113589251909409837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20314844/posts/default/113589251909409837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://told-you.blogspot.com/2005/12/ahead-of-game_29.html' title='Ahead of the Game'/><author><name>Liv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02369667987300708757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
