<?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-6544575642845725222</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:25:16.442-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sassy Princess</title><subtitle type='html'>musings and mutterings....ponderings and prattle</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-4952647803029116804</id><published>2010-03-08T20:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T22:19:33.407-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the shit hit the fan!- well---- hit the baby!!</title><content type='html'>so last week i decided to begin our adventures in cloth diapering. i've been looking forward to using these diapers that a certain friend shelled out serious cash for, not to mention the savings on disposable diapers. (they are so costly) we got these diapers called fuzzi bunz one size diapers. they are what's known as pocket diapers and what's cool about them is they adjust to fit babies from 7 to 35 lbs. i put olivia in her first one and adjusted the elastics around her tummy and thighs, snapped it on and took a look at my sweet girl. SHE HAD THE BIGGEST BABY BOOTY EVER!!! due to the need for these diapers to fit big babies too, they are chunky on the butt. she has to wear pants a size up from her normal just to accommodate for the junk in her infant trunk. but that's ok with me if we're just chilling at home, so i found bigger pants and we rocked the cloth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they've been working out pretty well with one exception. let me explain first that we purchased a sprayer that attaches to the toilet to *ahem* rinse the poo into the potty before the dirty diaper goes into the laundry. now, i was so excited to get into the cloth, i didn't wait to get this sprayer before we started wearing them.... BIG FAT MISTAKE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last friday- i had one of those moments where you have to either laugh hysterically or sob, and you can, perhaps, get away with doing a bit of both. one of those moments when you're not sure if what just happened REALLY happened and you just don't know what to do next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the day started out great. liv slept well all night, only waking up to eat and then passing back out. we were both up, showered and dressed by 9 am. (this, by the way, is an amazing feat--there are days that i'm not showered before 4 pm) we had to go to target. i wore my moby wrap (omg THE best thing i bought for us so far) and we were off....we were in the store not 5 minutes when she puked. due to the position she was in, this of course, ran down between my boobs. lovely...i shrug it off (oh what motherhood can do to you!) and keep shopping. she slowly begins to fuss..and then cry...and then wail. i'm rushing through the store like i'm a contestant in supermarket sweep. we cash out and get out to the car. i wrestle her into her car seat ( oh how she hates it) and think "when the car starts moving, she'll pass out. " WRONG!! she screamed all the way home!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;about 15 very tense minutes later we get home and i lug everything into the house- screaming baby and all. my blood pressure was through the roof i'm sure. i drop everything(not the baby)and begin to warm up a bottle. a frantic 5 minutes later, we settle down. after eating, like any good baby, she decides to do a #2 in her cloth diaper. i change her, put her back in the moby, and scratch my head at this new dilemna. how to clean this bad boy without the sprayer??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i go into the bathroom and spy our shower head...it has a long tube, the kind you can grab and bring into the tub ( i love this when rinsing my hair after dying it) so, i hang the nasty diaper over the toilet, grab the shower head and turn it on. the water hits the dipe at a speed not intended for bodily fluids. shit goes flying everywhere! on my face, on the floor, on the celing and toilet and all over the back of liv's head!!! at that very moment, my lovely little one pukes down the front of my shirt again. now i have a sopping wet diaper in one hand and a still running shower head in the other, i've got shit on my lips, eyes, face and puke lazily  making its way to my belly button. i take the showerhead back to its rightful place, splashing water all over the floor. and now i've got a puddle. and the coup de gras, leia walked in, assessed the situation and promptly took a shit on the floor next to me. i just stood there for awhile, dripping, stinking, stewing....then i started to laugh. i laughed so hard &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; almost puked. liv kept watching me and smiling (evidently she didn't know about her shit covered head) what else could we do? everything and everyone got cleaned up and mommy brewed a nice strong pot of coffee. i only wish i'd had some booze to spike it with!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-4952647803029116804?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/4952647803029116804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2010/03/shit-hit-fan-well-hit-baby.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/4952647803029116804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/4952647803029116804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2010/03/shit-hit-fan-well-hit-baby.html' title='the shit hit the fan!- well---- hit the baby!!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-2098714003232351748</id><published>2010-02-05T09:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T10:19:24.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i don't wanna go to work *pout pout*</title><content type='html'>so i go back to work next week.  i start back slowly, a few shifts a week and then full time as of march 1.  i have to admit, part of me is ok with the idea, you know the part that likes to have money (haha) and the part that desires adult interaction, but mostly i have been enjoying hanging out with my family in the evenings.  justin and i won't see each very often when i go back due to our opposite schedules.  but...this prevents the cost or need for daycare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;liv is doing great.  she's quite the spitter though...we have many outfit changes during the day.  she's gaining weight and developing a little of a personality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing new is going on here.  my brother josh is graduating from basic training (navy) today and i wish i could be there to see him.  i just had sinus surgery on monday though, and i'm not up for the travel.  the surgery went well.  it was not painful so much as it made me very lightheaded and out of sorts for a few days.  the dr took the hard plastic stints out yesterday and that has helped me to feel better.   there is still some dissovable packing in there and i go back in two weeks to get it removed.  i can kinda breathe through my nose and should be fully able to after the next appointment.  right now, it's sore and extremely crusty inside.  andd i keep blowing out loads of bloody snot (pretty picture eh?)  better all be worth it!!!  i haven't been able to use my nose in years and i'm quite excited at the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back to liv---one thing that i knew we, as new parents, would face that i am not enjoying is that everyone seems eager to give us unsolicited advice.  and they are quick to judge.  i am a firm believer in what is called attachment parenting.  i don't allow liv to "scream it out" because she is too young to understand what is happening.  she is too young to self-soothe and crying is her only way to communicate her needs to me.  i believe that at this young age, she can't get enough contact with mom or dad and we hold her often.  i hear that we are spoiling her way too often.  it is impossible to spoil a newborn!  she needs to build a bond that is based on trust that we will take care of her needs.  we have also been co-sleeping with her.  this started as a necessity as i was unable to hop out of bed every few hours right after my c section to tend to her.  i bought what is called a "snuggle nest" (http://www.amazon.com/Baby-Delight-Supreme-Snuggle-Incline/dp/B001U0PVQM/ref=pd_sbs_ba_2  )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this helps keep her within arms reach and safe from being rolled on.  i love sleeping with her and she likes i too i think.  she and i sleep facing one another and often i wake to a little hand touching my face.  melts my heart...  i have read some interesting articles about co-sleeping and how it reduces the risk of SIDS.  it seems that mom and baby are so attached and so in rhythm, that when baby pauses in breathing (which they all do) mom's breathing helps them to start back up.  i don't imagine that we will continue this practice much longer, but i have enjoyed it more than i can say.  i can also say that i'm tired of, when this fact comes to light, hearing all the horror stories of babies being rolled on or kicked to the foot of a bed.  i know about this...Ive educated myself, and i feel comfortable with my decision, as is justin.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess i just didn't realize that becoming a new parent means that everyone will judge every move you make.  i think most are well-intentioned, but unless asked, please--keep it to yourself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of...i hear snorting and fussing...gotta run!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-2098714003232351748?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/2098714003232351748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-dont-wanna-go-to-work-pout-pout.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/2098714003232351748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/2098714003232351748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-dont-wanna-go-to-work-pout-pout.html' title='i don&apos;t wanna go to work *pout pout*'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-741154374233144229</id><published>2010-01-15T13:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T14:04:53.851-05:00</updated><title type='text'>in the swing</title><content type='html'>so here we are, week 3.  time really does fly!  we're starting to get a schedule established, and that helps anal me oh so much.  i'm the sort who craves control and while i know a new baby means no real control, the schedule at least provides the ILLUSION of my having some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we've seemed to find some solutions for liv's reflux.  we've changed formulas and prop her up as much as possible.  she's growing like a weed!  up to 6 lbs 8 oz as of last week and i know she's gained more.  her face is just getting so round and beautiful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm relaxing a bit (as much as my anxiety allows  lol)  i go back to work full time march 1st, but i picked up some shifts in february to ease me back into it.  sometimes, i look forward to it, to break up the monotony and get me out of the house.  but other times, i just don't want to think about leaving her! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have another surgery coming up.  feb 1st i go in to finally get my nose fixed!!  i haven't been able to use it properly for years due to a deviated septum and some physical blockage of the nostrils.  i was working on scheduling this surgery when we found out that i was pregnant.  so, the dr decided to do it while i was already off work.  i hear it hurts like a mother, but is worth it in the long run.  hopefully, i'll be able to breathe and maybe even smell things!!  (just in time for poopy diapers!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uh oh- the beast is stirring--gotta run!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-741154374233144229?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/741154374233144229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-swing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/741154374233144229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/741154374233144229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-swing.html' title='in the swing'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-717041509537988265</id><published>2010-01-10T09:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T10:14:16.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'>where did christy go?</title><content type='html'>i'm going to go ahead and state the obvious here, being a new parent is hard.  now, before you snicker and prepare your "i-told-you-sos" or your "now who's boss?", just give me a minute to say i knew it was going to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love my baby.  i don't think that anyone would or could doubt that.  i loved her before she was even born, i fell more in love when i heard her first cry, and the minute she was placed in my arms, i knew i would die for this tiny creature, this tiny PERSON looking up at me through hazy eyes. i wouldn't change her being here for the world.  but there are moments when i struggle to adopt this new reality placed upon me by virtue of her just being here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night i had such a moment while waiting for a bottle to warm ( i have no idea what time it was except to say that the only thing on tv was infomercials).  there i found myself, tired, oh so deliriously tired, wearing a nightgown with spit up on my boob, missing a sock, staring down at this newly obtained flabby gut when i just kinda lost it.  not a crazy- throwing things and being loud "lost it"- just a quiet, pitiful weeping.  now, this was not the first time since Liv has come along that i have cried.  two nights ago, i spent a good two hours rocking a fitful baby and sobbing until we both had the hiccups and looked like we had lost the battle with the ugly stick.  i know, these things happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;most of my time is spent, i think, trying to reconcile my brain with this new world.  i find myself struggling to find a sense of "normalcy" only to then realize that i don't even know what "normal" means anymore.  i miss people too.  it seems to me that everyone has kinda abandoned me.  given me up to the all consuming life of motherhood. i think this is well-intentioned.  i think that people are trying to give me, give us time to bond with our baby and to get to know her.  and for this i am grateful.  ( i know i sound wishy washy,like i don't know WHAT i want, but that's what you get from someone who doesn't sleep anymore)  i also would like people to remember that i am a person first, in fact i am the same person i was a month ago to some extent.  call me, talk to me about what's going on out there in the world since i can't go out there right now.  visit.  i miss being around people.  even if its just a phone call.  i miss it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't sleep during the day.  i have a never ending list of things that need to be done.  that's the other catch 22, i want people to visit, but would be mortified if they was the condition of the apartment.  the condition of me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so while this has no point, i felt like getting it all out.  excuse the rambling...i think my coffee is done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-717041509537988265?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/717041509537988265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2010/01/where-did-christy-go.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/717041509537988265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/717041509537988265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2010/01/where-did-christy-go.html' title='where did christy go?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-6651120986474621804</id><published>2009-12-29T19:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T19:59:16.649-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Olivia's here!!</title><content type='html'>as i write this, i look to my left and i see my precious, 4 day old daughter sleeping on my husband's chest.  they're doing "kangaroo care", skin to skin contact that helps her bond, learn to regulate her body temperature and relax.  its beautiful to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last wed, christmas eve, i woke up to my cat nudging my leg, insisting on her breakfast.  it was 645am and i contemplated just rolling over to go back to sleep.  but, the preggo bladder was screaming so i heaved myself to the edge of the bed in a barrel roll fashion and felt a pop.  and then a gush....i hopped out of bed and scooted to the bathroom.  i knew exactly what just happened, i knew that my water had just broken, yet i stood there with my pj pants around my knees just staring for a few seconds.  then, i cleaned up and said, "justin, wake up"  he, from a dead sleep, mumbled, "wha?"  "i think my water just broke."  lemme tell ya, that boy has never woken up so fast before in his life!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i told him to calm down and that i was going to get a shower and then call the doctor.  and that's what i did.  when i called, they told me that one of my dr's partners was on call and that he liked patients to call him at home.  i called the number they gave me and a woman (his wife?) told me that he was at riverside hospital and to call the service back and ask them to page him.  i do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he called me back in a few minutes ( i was unpacking my bag meant to go back to the valley and making a hospital bag)  he asked if i knew for sure that the water broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me "yes, definitely."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dr "are you still leaking?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me "yes"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dr "having contractions?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me  "no"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dr "well, give it a few hours.  if you go to the hospital now, they'll just give you pitocin to start contractions.  wait until 9 and then go, unless you start getting contractions 5 minutes apart before that time.  if you do, go then."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me " ok, she's frank breech"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dr " well then, you'll have surgery today"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, we decided to clean the apartment in case anyone had to come over.  by 8, i was having contractions 7 minutes apart.  they were all in the back of my hips and they HURT.  by 820 they were 5 minutes apart and i told justin we were going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he tells me that the dr said to wait until 9.  i give him a death stare and tell him that this was MY decision and I said we were going NOW.  we get to the hospital and are sent to triage.  these people were just trying to do their job, but lemme tell ya--asking a woman inane questions like "what was the last grade you completed in school?" mid-contraction is simply a death wish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by 915, they were 2 minutes apart and i was dilating.  they did an ultrasound and confirmed her breech position and said that i definitely needed a c section.  poor justin kept trying to rub my arm, hold my hand and i kept holding my hand up to tell him not to touch me.  i was miserable.  we told them that we had out of town grandparents and asked what time the surgery would be.  we were told in about 30 minutes.  everything was just going so so fast.  justin got on the phone to rally the troops while i answered more stupid questions through clenched teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they came to get me to go to the or and i was shocked that they made me walk there.  i had to pause a few times to make it through a contraction.  justin put on his exterminator suit.  when we got to the room, they showed jus the area he had to wait in and took me inside.  i sat on the edge of the bed and the anesthesiologist ( a very nice man) was trying to get me to bend over so he could find the spot to stick me in the spine.  hard to do with contractions that are now coming on top of each other.  i manage it and he says "you're going to feel a stick, it's important that you don't move"   i interrupt him by screaming "JUST FUCKING DO IT!!!"  he does and 5 seconds later i announce "i can't feel my feet"  they moved me on to the table and set everything up.  a blue curtain is raised and justin is brought in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;about ten minutes later, after lots of pressure and tugging and pulling- i hear "its a girl!" and i see, for a split second, a little, gooey face peeking over the curtain and then i hear an ear shattering scream.  i start to cry and justin got all teary.  a few minutes later they got justin to go her.  and then was the worst part of the whole ordeal-  i lay there, like a slab of meat- being shoved and tugged, rolled and "worked on"   i lay there alone, the happiest moment of my life and i had no one to share it with.  i couldn't see her, i had no one to hold my hand, i was just the discarded host.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then jus did bring her to me and all of those terrible feelings were pushed away. (they would resurface periodically)  they wheeled me to recovery and gave her to me right away.  she was perfect.  tiny, 6 lbs, but perfect.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;olivia is doing well, she was born 4 weeks early, and as a result she hadn't developed the "suck, swallow, breathe" reflex.  she struggled with eating while at the hospital and lost more than 10% of her body weight, taking her down to 5 lbs 6 oz.  she managed to bump up tp 5 lbs 8.2 oz by the time we left.  she still struggles with eating on occasion.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she is nothing short of amazing.  i tear up just thinking about her.  i could look into her little face for hours.  i am so in love.  i love watching justin love her.  he also stares at her often.  we are both simply mesmerized.  we keep waiting for the dream to end.  lol  we keep waiting for her real parents to show up and take her.  we keep realizing that she's ours over and over again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm slowly healing from my surgery.  i'm struggling with resting and not getting up and doing "too much"  i had issues with that during pregnancy.  justin is taking some time off and working from home as well.  he has been amazing.  if you watch him with liv, he looks like a baby pro!  i love him more now than ever and a big factor in that is watching him love our daughter so much.  so watching them now, asleep on the couch together, chest to chest..her little mouth open and her hands on his chest..his hand on her back, snuggling her to him, makes my heart threaten to explode and makes me cry with happiness.  we are so, so lucky&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-6651120986474621804?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/6651120986474621804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/12/olivias-here.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/6651120986474621804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/6651120986474621804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/12/olivias-here.html' title='Olivia&apos;s here!!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-4131273308107109488</id><published>2009-12-02T12:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T12:29:34.581-05:00</updated><title type='text'>dr=supreme ruler of all?</title><content type='html'>so i find myself in familiar territory.  i had an appointment with the hand specialist about my carpal tunnel today.  it was a scheduled follow up, but one with perfect timing as my hands are beginning to hurt and wake me up at night again.  this office called me yesterday to remind me of the appointment as well as clearly state the "punishment" for canceling with less than 24 hrs notice etc.  whatever....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went to my 1045am appointment this morning.  by 1145 i hadn't been seen.  stewing, i went to the front desk (not a nurse to be found in the labyrinth of hallways on my way there of course)  i walked up to the front desk and calmly stated "i've been waiting for an hour, i have not been seen, i want my copay back."  she looked at me like i'd just offered my not-yet-born child up to her as a sacrifice. but, to her credit, she must be able to spot a woman on the edge and she began looking for my credit card slip.  she did ask if i wanted her to check to see "what was going on " and " how much more of a wait" it would be. i said no, that i had been disrespected enough and had had more than enough of my time wasted and that i wanted to go.  she credited my card (at least she'd better have) and i left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't understand why doctors think that their time is oh-so-much-more-valuable than mine.  i get it, you went to school for a long time-so did i.  you help people in your work-so do i.  i guess when they get their diplomas, the MD is followed by the title "supreme asshole" written in invisible ink.  just because you sport a white coat doesn't mean that you are any better than any one else.  don't waste my time.  i show up at the appointed time for a reason.  if something has happened and you are behind schedule, respect me enough to tell me and allow me to decide if i'd like to wait it out or reschedule.  it's not rocket science, Mr MD, its common courtesy. or maybe they cut that class out of your schedule in college to make room for "fucking with people 101"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-4131273308107109488?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/4131273308107109488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/12/drsupreme-ruler-of-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/4131273308107109488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/4131273308107109488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/12/drsupreme-ruler-of-all.html' title='dr=supreme ruler of all?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-5331657234945208397</id><published>2009-10-30T21:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T21:34:26.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'>another conversation</title><content type='html'>i'm at work and while i'm here, justin and i communicate through google talk.  this is a snippet of tonight's fun&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Have pizza tonite&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: yay!!&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Donates from kroger. $6&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: cool&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: don't burn it&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: got eggs and yogurt and frozen pizza&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: i grabbed a couple things  had to go get bday card for brian&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: nothing much&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: too poor&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Me too&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: have to pick up pictures tmw from cord camera&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: they weren't sure how big can make fat baby pic&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: we'll see tmw&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: i tried for 5x7  but may be distorted&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Ok&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: may have to make it 4x6&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: don't want blurry fat baby&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: haha&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Like how her show films oprah.&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: who's?&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: ooo bad grammar--i mean whose?&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: When oprah is her biggest, the hazy filter is put on the camera.&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: ah   gotcha  they do?&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: didn't know that&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: i need a hazy filter to follow me around all day&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: lol&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: I drink so my life has a hazy filter&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Just jokin&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: yay   your hazy, dink fueled filter makes u like me!&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: drink fueled&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: i wish i could type w/o looking&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: boo&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Its 745 and I'm yawning&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: nap&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: go to bed for the night&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: I sleep when I sleep&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: ok&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: up to u&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: In 2 hrs maybe a different story&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: mmm someone brought starbursts&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: I eating pizza&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: ok  you win&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: }:)&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: no fair&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: to tease a preggo with pizza&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Will be here. If I don't eat it all.&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: ok&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: There'll be some&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: sweet&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: lesson of the day- do not forget that you have a tums in your mouth when you go to take a big drink of hot chocolate---ew&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Multi-tasker!&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: and working too&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: ooo just got old lady upskirt!  ew&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: That's hot&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: ew&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: U ran the dishes today?  It wasn't full&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: i did&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: I have dishes I was gonna throw in and start. You messed with my friday night routine!:(&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: ooo you party animal...sorry&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Now not only do I have to put dishes in, now I have to take dishes OUT!&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: x-(&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: x-(&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: :P&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: :'(&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: B-)&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: &lt;/3&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: All done&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: lol&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: I have patio door open&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: nice&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: beautiful out&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: I am easedropping on a "black" argument.&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: cool&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: oh no you didn't&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: The black family at adjacent bldg on 2nd floor who has gettogethers sometimes?&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Guess what the argument was about?&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: money?&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: pot?&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Racist?&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: lol  yes&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: !&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: seems i am tonight&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: No. It wasn't about pot&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: It was&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: About&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Who was a better rapper... Jay Z or Kanye!&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: seriously?&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: you messing with me?&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Yeah. I heard who had better lyrics. And who made more money and had a bigger mansion&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: Amazing&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: jay z&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: funny&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: bet the old folks above us loved it&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: I heard some curse words so it had to be serious.&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: well...that's a very serious issue&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: earth shattering&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: lol&lt;br /&gt;Justin Horne: it was like watching a WB sitcom.&lt;br /&gt;horne.christy1: sorry i missed it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss all the good stuff!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-5331657234945208397?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/5331657234945208397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/10/another-conversation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/5331657234945208397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/5331657234945208397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/10/another-conversation.html' title='another conversation'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-8284439225382657145</id><published>2009-10-22T17:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T19:41:57.944-04:00</updated><title type='text'>twilight flu</title><content type='html'>i've never gotten the flu shot. it's not that i have anything against the idea, and i'm in the target group even when i'm not preggie (asthmatic), it's just that i figure flu happens! but, due to the baby growing (and boy is she ever!) in the belly, my doctor stressed the importance of the vaccination. he also strongly recommends the h1n1 shot. i refuse to get that one due to the fact that it's so very new, and there haven't been any long term tests done on the pregnant ladies who have received it. there have been no studies on the effects on the children born to these women. i think that it needs more research before i allow it to be placed in my body, let alone my daughter's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyhow...i went to kroger 2 weeks ago to get this flu shot. there was no line, and i was thrilled! i filled out the paper, and was told it would be a 20 minute wait. so, i wondered around for a bit and came back to the window. while i was waiting,i wondered if i should tell them about the cortisone shot i had gotten that morning in my left wrist. worse case scenario, in my mind, was that they would have to give me this shot in the right arm. when i asked, the pharmacist flatly told me that he would NOT allow me to have the shot at all that day. he said that the cortisone would lower my immune system, and that the flu shot would as well. he told me to wait a week and come back. so, 30 minutes wasted, great. i went back a week later, and wouldn't you know it, they were out of shots. damnit! i've been faithfully calling them every day to ask if they had received more--no luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night, i was at work and hearing stories from friends who are sick, or know someone who is and i sent a message to justin asking him to look around for other possible sites for me to get this elusive shot. he found out that the cvs near our apt was giving them out today from 3p-7p (or until they ran out). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wondered all morning what time i should get to the cvs. i didn't want to show up too early and be leered at for wandering the aisles. i also didn't want to show up just to stand in line forever and have them run out. i went at 130p. -yes, an hour and a half before they were to pass them out. i pulled in and noticed several cars with people just hanging out in them. after a brief conversation with jus (in which i told him that i really didn't want to wait forever) i decided to go in the store to see how many people were waiting. i made my way back to the pharmacy area and saw several people. i asked if that was where we needed to wait for the shot and was told to get a number. i waited in line at the register to be given the number 22. "not too bad", i thought and i took a seat. this woman sat next to me with a tiny baby in her arms. she was young and (how should i say this nicely???) what my gran may refer to as "white trash". her baby looked underdressed and was super super cute. she was feeding her a bottle; she immediately saw my belly and apparently thought that my open book was a sign that i wanted to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lady w/baby (lwb) "you should go to the hospital."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me "pardon?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lwb- " for the shot, they'll give it to you, you know. and the h1n1 shot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me " i don't want the h1n1 shot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looks at me like i just said that i hoped my baby was born with 18 eyes..."you HAVE TO GET IT"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i then try to smile and pick up my book....she really must think that this is a hint to keep talking because she proceeded to tell me all about how she had only gained 10 lbs the whole time she was pregnant, how she was pissed that she couldn't go to cedar point while she was pregnant, and how she (unlike her friends, or "homies" as she called them) waited until she was at least 20 to have her baby. i gave up on my book at this point (ignoring her the whole time)and started messaging justin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m-"next to world's biggest blabbermouth"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m- "kill me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j- :-(  (he's a man of few words)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m- "this blows. shoulda pretended to be deaf. to late now damnit"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m- " she has to tell me all abt her pregnancy. already getting lectured about h1n1"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;around this time, i overhear a woman telling someone that the shots are cash or check only. i ask her to make sure and then approach the pharmacist. she confirms this. damnit. i never have cash. so i go to the front of the store, and buy gum and get cash back. when i get back, not only to i have a seat still, but trashy, lecture mom is gone!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sit, and sit, and sit..then we're told that we have to move the chairs we're sitting in to make space for the tables they need to set up. so preggo me is helping old farts of varied mobility move and carry chairs. they set us up in a single row going down the vitamin aisle. i find myself next to a tammy fae wannabe and an ancient man who has nose hairs that closely resemble and octopus' tentacles as they reach out to smother its prey (at least i'm guessing that that's what it would look like from the fish's point of view) nose hair likes to talk at about 100 decibels and he goes on and on about his various afflictions( 2 strokes, heart attack, bunyons and constipation), and how he can't believe how much the government charges for this shot. he also screams that anything the government touches can't be trusted, and he doesn't know why he has to get this shot anyhow...after all he made it through the asian flu.....sigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;during this time, jus and i decide (after my "this kid soooo owes me" comment) that we should start an excel spreadsheet for olivia listing all the things she "owes" us for. we decided that "giving her life" would be a freebie. we will give this list to her in her birthday card on her 18th birthday so she can start making amends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it started to get really crowded and i dutifully noted on my facebook that it "smelled like old people and dirty diapers" in line. and it did....what a mess!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then, in walks in a deaf guy i have interpreted for.  he grabs me up in a big hug (culturally appropriate) and smashes my face into his chest hair because he has his hawaiian shirt mostly unbuttoned in true miami vice style (NOT appropriate).  he's sweet, but um  how do i say....he's annoying as fuck.  to top it off, he knows tammy fae (they used to work together) and he quickly begins to use me as his interpreter to catch up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i finally got my shot (after another lecture from the shot giver on why i needed to get the h1n1 shot) and got out of there at 330p. 2 freaking hours!!! i won't even stand that long in line for the new twilight movie and i love twilight! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have to add this beauty from yesterday.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hadn't eaten much all day and i was starving. in the weird way of pregnancy cravings, i knew i HAD TO HAVE a meatball from marcella's. and pecorino cheese. i grabbed my book, and went to the restaurant. i got the meatball and the pecorino cheese (comes with honey and green apples YUM!!!!) i killed it (and in the meantime managed to spill honey on my belly). my hot ass waiter came over and said that he would bring my check. i had to stop him and say, "actually, i want to order more food." how horrifying! but i wasn't full! just the look he gave me screamed "moo".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and...random thought #2--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had a dream last night that my friend was dating a large, black woman.  odd since he's gay.  anyhow...all i really remember about the dream was teasing him over and over about that fact that he liked "dark meat".  i really think that i'm losing my mind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, off to work. bye all&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-8284439225382657145?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/8284439225382657145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/10/twilight-flu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/8284439225382657145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/8284439225382657145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/10/twilight-flu.html' title='twilight flu'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-1863761640753843223</id><published>2009-10-21T14:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T14:25:27.794-04:00</updated><title type='text'>random funny</title><content type='html'>to understand part of this, you have to know that on the day this conversation took place, luke decided to sit atop what i call the kitty tower (a 2 story, carpeted climbing thing) and projectile vomit.  at 4 am.  lovely way to start the day right?  so this is a funny(at least i think so ) im'ed conversation between justin and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me-weird dreams again all night.  leroy fodor made a cameo. i think i'm going crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jus-did u dream about a cat projectile vomiting? i did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m- lol i did!  how weird!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;about 20 min later.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m-wonder how i can get her to stop kicking me in the vag?  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j- need me to step in? ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m- maybe.  got anything you can poke around in there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j- i got a small noodle that may do the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m- lmao  we'll have to try it out.  :-D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j- i'm funny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m- you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j- i should document my one liners&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;m- would make a great book that people could read on the toilet  :-D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since we don't see each other much with the opposite scheduled, we im each other on and off all day.  these are the important chats we have!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-1863761640753843223?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/1863761640753843223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/10/random-funny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1863761640753843223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1863761640753843223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/10/random-funny.html' title='random funny'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-5992477906918457752</id><published>2009-10-15T16:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T20:13:43.758-04:00</updated><title type='text'>oh baby!</title><content type='html'>so now that i can feel and use my hands, this preggy thing isn't all too bad. i think had i not been in pain for weeks and weeks, and had been able to sleep, i would have enjoyed that second trimester. but now i find myself in the last week of the 2nd trimester, with the home stretch looming ahead of me (um yeah...due date is 98 days away...eek!) wondering if i can slow down time so i can (maybe) get everything ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this journey for me has had loads of cons and only a few (precious few) pros. let's see:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;getting fat- i know, i know-i can hear you all clucking and shaking your heads. but having this happen when i was so very close to my goal weight has been a bitter pill to swallow. i know i can lose it again and i know it wasn't all for naught, but every now and again i catch sight of my ginormous ass in the mirror and want to weep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone passing judgement- and i mean judging me for everything, i've heard "i hope that's decaf" while i was holding a starbucks cup, gotten the stank eye when i enjoyed a bit of red wine at dinner, had people tell me they think i've gained too much weight, heard people gasp and sigh over that fact that i'm still weight lifting, and heard why everyone thinks i should get the new h1n1 shot. (i've decided against it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the crazy shit happening with my body--no, not just the gigantor belly i'm sporting,but the weird, people-just-don't-talk-about-it shit. like moles growing, yeah, you heard me. i have a mole, have had it forever, it used to be a flat, very unassuming mole. now, being the astute observer i am, i'm aware of the advice that if a mole changes shape and/or color that this is a bad sign. so, when this previously unobtrusive mole started growing and looking all dangly like a skin tag, i kinda panicked. like a good little patient, i went scooting to the dr only to be told that this was a side effect of all the hormones in my pregnant body. um what??? "don't worry," the dr says, "you can have it removed after the baby comes if it bothers you." so now i get to pay for mole removal too... another weird shit happening to my body thing is the itching..now, i had heard that the belly will itch due to the skin stretching and lemme tell ya...at the end of the day, when i take my shirt off and have at it, it looks like i've been attacked by wolverine! but anyhow, the itching that makes me crazy is of another kind (squeamish? look away now)let's just say that everything my underwear (you know the granny panties i've grown into) covers itches like mad. and i mean everything! again, i was a good girl and spoke to the dr about it (we have no secrets) and was told another normal part of this beautiful experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let's focus on the good, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 without a doubt wonderful thing--feeling her move. it's kinda creepy at times, and when she rolls over it makes me nauseous, but it's cool. very reassuring to know she's ok and moving around. granted, sometimes i think she's doing some tae bo or something, the kicks are not only strong, but rhythmic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 how interested justin is in feeling her move. he's always feeling up my belly and he quite often falls asleep with his hand on it.  it's so sweet!  (sorry honey if this makes you blush)  every time she is kicking and he tries to feel it, she stops.  he has had her kick him in the face a few times when he put he face on my belly and talked to her.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND   believe it or not, sometimes the belly is a cool thing. i often catch myself checking it out and marveling at it. sounds corny, but it's amazing to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all this babyness had me looking through my own baby book today and i came across something funny. so funny that i had to call my mother just to harass her. when she answered, i said "so is it appropriate to give a 3 mth old a turkey leg bone to chew on?" she says, " a 3 mth old? no!" to which i reply, " well it seems that you gave me one on my 1st thanksgiving!" i think she was embarrassed, and she quickly blamed it on her father (which i can totally see) in my baby book, that's what it said "gave you a turkey leg bone to chew on, but you kept sticking it under your dress. " and yes, i was 3 mths old! lol sorry mom, just had to share! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, i'm working right now, and this blog literally has taken me 3 hrs to type, so i guess i'd better go. later all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-5992477906918457752?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/5992477906918457752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/10/oh-baby.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/5992477906918457752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/5992477906918457752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/10/oh-baby.html' title='oh baby!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-6748773926012422375</id><published>2009-10-08T20:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T21:54:40.927-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"cat" astrophy 2, 3, 4....</title><content type='html'>well, i have a lot of catching up to do....my wrists got to be very bad and quite painful for several weeks- leaving me unable to do so much as write with a pen, let alone type. I missed a few days of work-luckily this "spell" happened to fall when i was between full time jobs. i was sleeping only a few hours a night (so was justin because i would wake him up sobbing in pain). but i've since had cortisone shots in both wrists, the right last week and the left two days ago, and while my fingers are numb 24/7, i have no more pain and swelling :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so...after the cat drama, and in the middle of my most painful time, we had EVEN MORE DRAMA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;picture it---friday morning in columbus. i had slept only a few hours the night before. i decided to sit on the couch with the sliding patio door open to enjoy the cool air. all of the sudden luke comes flying in the house with something furry in his mouth! by the time i got my fat, preggy ass off the loveseat, he was halfway down the hall. i kicked him and he dropped his "hostage". luke ran to the bedroom and i kicked the unwanted guest ( a chipmunk) towards the living room. he scooted that way and quickly ran under the bookcase. (yes- the very same bookcase the mouse has resided under mere days before)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i lost my shit at this point. i was tired and emotional and started screaming and crying. of course i sent a message to justin and then called my mother(like she can do anything 2 hrs away). she tries to calm me down best she can and i decide that i'm going to get the little fucker out of my house one way or another. we hang up and i proceed to take books from the shelves, all the while sobbing like a woman gone mad and cursing the blessed cat. ( i wish i could have been able to see myself at this point-what a mess!) then luke (oh sweet, sweet bastard)brings in another something furry. after another kicking in the hall, he dropped it. IT WAS A BLOODY CHIPMUNK TAIL! the fukker had ripped the poor 'munk's ass off! after a tearful, pleading call, justin drove all the way home to help me get the chipmunk out of the apt. i think he was afraid that i had experienced an honest-to-goodness mental breakdown by this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so he comes home, and we shoo the poor, ass-less, bleeding rodent out and justin goes back to work. i try to chill for a minute, and my cousin shows up to help me with my shower invitations. this sweet, sweet child has a pumpkin spice latte from starbucks in her hands. ( i found out later that my mother had called her and prepared her for the hot mess she was about to encounter) I needed her help because i had to tie ribbons onto the invites, and couldn't due to my hands. anyhow....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're working away on the invitations, (the door is now closed) and i'm calming down. luke kept trying to steal the ribbon from me, so i threw him a piece (abt a foot long ) to play with and to leave me the hell alone. now, i have to say, my cats are 4 and i've given them ribbons to play with on many different occasions. i look down a few minutes later in time to see him trying to swallow something. i grab him and yank open his mouth--too late--ribbon GONE. i call the vet to be told that i had three options:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. see if it passes, with the understanding that if it doesn't, he will require surgery that costs at least $1000&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. bring him in and they would try to use a scope to get it ($600) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. try to induce vomiting using peroxide &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i opt for lucky #3 and jessie and i administer the peroxide as directed. he pukes-i see ribbon! i think all is well...OH SO VERY VERY WRONG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she leaves and several hours later i realize that luke has puked many times after the peroxide. hrmmm i think, "well i would puke too, probably irritated the bejesus outta his stomach..no biggie" and i leave for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while i'm at work, i get a message from jus "when you were home, was luke puking blood?" uh no... he tells me there are "flecks" of blood in the vomit and that the cat is puking several times an hour. G-R-E-A-T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by the time i get home a couple hours later there are no "flecks", it's just blood. off we go to kitty er. they keep luke that night to give him fluids via IV and to medicate him. we get home after 1 am (at this point i had been awake for about 20 exhausting hours) we pick him up the next day and the poor thing is drugged, has a shaved forearm and is on 4 different medications. his bill was around 400 ( i forget exactly how much, i think i've blacked it out of my memory) we spend the day watching over him like nervous parents and medicating the holy crap out of him. (he had pepcid and painkillers among some other drugs)...we were told that if he threw up more than 3 times to take him back to dr. of course he did...back we went. we spend several hours there again while they give him More fluids and more drugs. they ask if we'd like to leave him overnight again. we were all for this until we were told it would be about $800. um..no thanks. so we pay his second bill ($300 ish) and go home. monday he made yet another trip because he refused to eat or drink anything. (another 100) so we were given special food and a syringe to force feed him until he started eating on his own. if he didn't she said, he would need to be admitted because cats apparently will starve themselves to death if they are sick. by this time, we were looking at him as an investment an we were willing to do whatever we had to do to make him well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by tues night, luke started eating again. it was a loooong ass ordeal that i never want to go through again. he's just fine now, and now we're dealing with his "i'll shit wherever i want to " sister. ugh--shoot me please!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-6748773926012422375?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/6748773926012422375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/10/cat-astrophy-2-3-4.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/6748773926012422375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/6748773926012422375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/10/cat-astrophy-2-3-4.html' title='&quot;cat&quot; astrophy 2, 3, 4....'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-6787858358856360180</id><published>2009-09-14T15:52:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T16:15:03.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"cat"astrophy</title><content type='html'>so i'm at work last thursday night and im'ing with justin about the steelers game when i get the message&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"luke just brought a mouse in the house"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my first thought was "yeah right-our spoiled, has-no-front-claws, baby caught a real critter?  no way"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while i didn't save the conversation, it followed like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me-"alive?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jus-" yes alive damnit, its behind the tv"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jus-" he brought it in and i thought it was one of their toys until it took off"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me-"maybe the cats will catch it.  where's luke?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jus-" i locked them in the bedroom"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we went on a bit about this with me actually interpreting call in between.  i couldn't help but laugh at this.  what else do you do?  justin then informs me that he can't catch it alone, but has dropped some cheese on the floor to "lure him out"&lt;br /&gt;i also am informed that he's "a quick little fucker"  i can't help but wonder why he locked up two mouse-catching machines (esp. luke)and decided to take on the job himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i get home a bit after 10 pm and i find my warrior of a hubby on the loveseat (which has been relocated to the dining room) in his undies and drinking a beer.  the game is on and the living room looks like a tornado has gone through as you can see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sq6gwcTUvVI/AAAAAAAAAFI/yCunC7QgXVc/s1600-h/mouse1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sq6gwcTUvVI/AAAAAAAAAFI/yCunC7QgXVc/s320/mouse1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381415358845730130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sq6g8xJ2XHI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/8tvaamKfgfs/s1600-h/mouse2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sq6g8xJ2XHI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/8tvaamKfgfs/s320/mouse2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381415570601565298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sq6hGXKpH4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/zbgJHT2VH4k/s1600-h/mouse3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sq6hGXKpH4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/zbgJHT2VH4k/s320/mouse3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381415735424262018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i put my purse down, i am promptly handed a spaghetti strainer and told to "squat down right there and i'll flush him out.  you catch him"  so there i am, tired and pregnant, on my knees with a noodle strainer at 1030 ish in the evening.  i'm trying to not pee myself laughing while justin bangs around on the bookshelves to get the bugger out.  the mouse has seemingly disappeared.  he gives up quickly and resumes position on the couch while i free the kids.  luke runs over to the bookshelf area, sniffs around for a minute and quickly gobbles down the cheese that was meant for bait.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we never did find minnie( or mickey), and can assume that its either hiding somewhere else in the apt or he ran outside while justin was wrestling the cats into the bedroom.  either way, i wasn't allowed to put the furniture back for almost 24 hrs just in case "we see it run by".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm hoping the damn thing is gone.  we don't need more issues.  damn cats!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-6787858358856360180?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/6787858358856360180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/09/catastrophy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/6787858358856360180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/6787858358856360180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/09/catastrophy.html' title='&quot;cat&quot;astrophy'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sq6gwcTUvVI/AAAAAAAAAFI/yCunC7QgXVc/s72-c/mouse1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-8308415196210768568</id><published>2009-09-01T07:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T07:56:53.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"i think i just peed a little"</title><content type='html'>an exact quote uttered by me while waiting at a red light yesterday.  i was coming home from the gym and apparently sneezed a bit too hard!  all i can say is if this happens when she's this small, i am fucked in a coupla months!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we picked up a crib and dresser this weekend and justin actually put the crib together.  i told him we had time, but it's up--and in the middle of the bedroom floor.  the most monumental task we have ahead of us is cleaning out the 2nd bedroom.  most of the crap in here (is where the pc is too) is justin's.  we just don't have the space to store some of these things.  we need a house!  we have golf clubs, 2 bikes, filing cabinets, a treadmill (seldom used) and various accessories to xbox games like drums for rock band etc..oh yeah and one very ugly leopard print video gaming chair that is never used except to hold clothes that he doesn't want to hang up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want this shit out of here!  i don't want to throw most of it out (except that ugly chair!)  we have no basement and the closets have reached maximum capacity.  i keep trying to explain the need for a bigger place, but the hubby isn't having it and i think he's now to the point where he gets pissed if i try.  true--we are lousy savers, and don't have the down payment.  i also checked with the bank and they only require a 5% down payment for 1st time buyers right now.  that's not much money.  the monthly payments for a house in our price range would be about 100 more a month than what we now pay for a too small apt.  frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but anyhow--we need to clean out this room to make space for baby gear and such.  i've been after him to help me do this for awhile..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news--headed back to the valley AGAIN this weekend.  i have a baby shower to attend.  i think this will be the last trip back for awhile.  i've scheduled myself for a lot of weekend work through october, plus its football season and i like to watch here.  speaking of football!!  a very sweet friend gave me steelers tickets for my birthday!  i've never been to an nfl game before and am looking forward to it.  (thanks again sir!)  the game is in cincy at the end of the month.  too bad i can't tailgate.  sober football will be a very interesting experience for me this year.  i'm not looking forward to being the designated drunk babysitter either.  i don't mind driving for people--i want them to be safe--but i know how overboard people tend to get when they are watching football.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well--off to work on this beautiful, chilly fall-feeling morning.  later&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-8308415196210768568?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/8308415196210768568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-think-i-just-peed-little.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/8308415196210768568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/8308415196210768568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-think-i-just-peed-little.html' title='&quot;i think i just peed a little&quot;'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-3835372541480852008</id><published>2009-08-23T19:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T19:58:14.414-04:00</updated><title type='text'>what the fuck?</title><content type='html'>so..its my birthday.  excuse me if i'm not jumping up and down.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;attention all readers:  this blog will be bitchy and whiny.  it will be full of "woe is me" and "fuck my life"  if you would rather not hear it---screw off and read something else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we came home from the valley today.  i couldn't wait to get here.  and i walked in to 12 piles of shit.  12 PILES. OF. SHIT.  in the hall, in the bathroom, in the bedroom and ON MY MOTHERFUCKING BED.  it took about a half an hour to pick it all up and scrub the carpets and floors.....still working on the laundry. then...while we were watching tv-SHE SHIT ON THE FLOOR RIGHT IN FRONT OF US!!!! yet i still feel a bit guilty at the thought of giving away a pet that i've had for four years.  i know that if we take her to the shelter they will put her down.  she's been to the vet. she's physically fine. i don't know what to do....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news...i hurt.  all over.  every joint in my body aches and this carpal tunnel is killing me.  i feel tired and fat.  i can't breathe through my nose (tho this IS a small blessing with all the shitting going on)  i feel like i got no rest. also (tmi) my poor recently-operated-upon boobs are hurting and one looks like it may be developing a hole where it was sewn shut.  it's like it's exploding.  i know, i know---call the dr.  that just means more medical bills to add to the pile on the counter.  those bills that i can't pay right now and have some collections out on.  honestly i don't owe much in the grand scale of things, but i just don't have the money right now.  so they continue to harass me.  life right now is quite shitty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so, i sit here on the couch...in tears and waiting for the cat to come in and shit again.  how poetic&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-3835372541480852008?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/3835372541480852008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-fuck.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/3835372541480852008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/3835372541480852008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-fuck.html' title='what the fuck?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-2763801827854635095</id><published>2009-08-17T18:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T10:42:21.545-04:00</updated><title type='text'>marvin no more...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Soq9vEMUHbI/AAAAAAAAAFA/2K5RSrHf4XU/s1600-h/olivia3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Soq9vEMUHbI/AAAAAAAAAFA/2K5RSrHf4XU/s320/olivia3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371314121869630898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Soq9j2WzZYI/AAAAAAAAAE4/bZKFIFbxxDs/s1600-h/olivia2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Soq9j2WzZYI/AAAAAAAAAE4/bZKFIFbxxDs/s320/olivia2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371313929176966530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, we can no longer call the munchkin marvin.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we now have olivia!  (i was right all along!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-2763801827854635095?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/2763801827854635095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/08/marvin-no-more.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/2763801827854635095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/2763801827854635095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/08/marvin-no-more.html' title='marvin no more...'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Soq9vEMUHbI/AAAAAAAAAFA/2K5RSrHf4XU/s72-c/olivia3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-5329367114227844526</id><published>2009-08-17T15:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T16:22:13.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'>dum da dum dum daaaaaa!!!</title><content type='html'>just a quick note to say that today is the big day!  we go to the ultrasound place in about 2 hrs and i must say, i've been watching the clock all day!  my dr. didn't want  to do the ultrasound until sept, and i'm inpatient, so i found a place that does 4d ultrasounds and called and asked them if the also did 2d gender determination ones.  turns out they do, so i booked my appt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the good thing about this set up is its cheap ($99) and they will bring me back for free the second time if marvin chooses not to show the goods. they are also giving me a nice discount to use when we go back for the 3d/4d show. (side note- i don't get what the 4th dimension is.  time?  what's different about 4d ultrasounds?  do they just want to sound fancier than the places that have 3d???)  another good thing is we find out today and then get a second glance on sept 4th at the dr's.  here's hoping the two decisions match!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ive been feeling that marvin is a chick from early on.  jus says that these feelings mean nothing, but i did see a study that says that mothers who have these "feelings"  are right 71% of the time.  justin really wants a boy, someone to golf with and share his love of sports with....his whole family seems to be hoping for a boy too (except our sister-in-law who wants a girl so she can buy pretty dresses and the ruffly underbloomer thingies).  my family seems to be in agreement that marvin is a girl, and mom is hoping that's true so she has one grandson and one granddaughter.  i think that a boy would be easier, and i've always dreamed of having 2 boys.  but, the more i think about it, upon reflecting on my relationship with my mom and how close we have always been, i would like to experience that kind of bond with a daughter someday.  for shits and giggles, i tried out some of the "tests" that the old wives tales suggest and all of them came back as a girl.  now i don't hold stock in these types of tests, but i thought it would be interesting to see if they came out right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am nervous and excited for this evening.  i hope that marvin does in fact show off the bits so we can start referring to him/her by a real name.  i'd also like to start shopping a bit.  i actually felt marvin move last night.  i had felt a couple of "flutters" before, but then i felt nothing for a long time.  this fed into my paranoia that something will go wrong (i got to hear the heart beat again this morning at the dr and that helped me relax)so feeling marvin really move last night was wonderful.  it was a weird, almost impossible to explain feeling, and i think i'm looking forward to it happening again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i did go to the dr today and he said all looks great and everything is progressing well.  (he's very laid back and i love him for it)  i cried when he asked how things were going because i have been feeling so bummed out and crappy lately that i've just not been myself.  i told him that if i had to decide right now, i don't know if i'd ever do this again.  he was very sweet and reassuring.  he also said he hears this more often than one would think, so i shouldn't feel bad about it.  i think one of the worst parts is that my nose is physically blocked and i can never breathe.  i'm really looking forward to feb when i can get the surgery i need to breathe better. i was also pleased to find out that i've only gained 6 lbs so far.  (i was worried about that since i've seemingly hit the sweets, sweets, and more sweets part of this pregnancy and i've been doing nothing but eating.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, i will update again when we find out what we're having and i'm sure it will be on my facebook after the family has all been notified!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-5329367114227844526?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/5329367114227844526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/08/dum-da-dum-dum-daaaaaa.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/5329367114227844526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/5329367114227844526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/08/dum-da-dum-dum-daaaaaa.html' title='dum da dum dum daaaaaa!!!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-5748259109344443267</id><published>2009-08-09T16:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T16:49:44.472-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"did you sign that?"-david cook</title><content type='html'>so mom and i were on the phone friday and she mentioned that she'd like to see david cook in concert at the ohio state fair.  after some searching and a phone call, i found someone who had two tickets listed on craigslist.  i'm always a bit freaked out by the idea of meeting a complete stranger somewhere to purchase what could always be fake tickets.  i've bought osu tickets before in this way and have never had an issue though, so i decided to meet this donald character at a walmart.  just to be on the semi-safe side (perhaps a wee bit paranoid side) i jotted down all of his info i had (first name and phone number) on a sheet of paper and left it on my car seat.  all turned out well though, he even had some old lady in the car with him (maybe his mom?).  i grabbed my tickets and went off to brunch for the french toast i had been dying for for the previous three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday mom and i headed to the fair a bit early because we were wanting an elephant ear.  after parking a bit away, though not off in the grass like many, we made our way into the fair.  now, i hate fairs, i really do.  they're crowded, they smell (not that that's a factor right now for me) and it's usually hot.  but the allure of an elephant ear got me there.  we ordered one to split and the man covered it in so much sugar that mom had to shake most off before it was edible.  after the ear we went into the celeste center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we found our seats and tried to get comfortable. i say tried because this place was obviously designed in the 1950's, way before the expansion of the american ass.  these things were TINY.  they were also rock hard.  while waiting, we noticed a man in a green baseball hat fucking around with a guy on the crowd.  we were up in the mezzanine and we could see the floor clearly.  at first, we wondered if this guy was just special, but upon further watching, we realized that he was working.  it seemed his job was to entertain the crowd by fucking with people.  he was quite good at it.  i wonder how a person would advertise his/her services for this kind of thing??  so, he kept us busy (guess he earned his pay) while we people watched and unfortunately listened to the conversation of the two redneck twats behind us.  this couple was a young pair who found it necessary to comment on everyone around them.  i really wanted to give them a piece of my mind when they got nasty about the adorable gay couple in front of us, but i behaved (for once).  david cook's brother was walking around before the show taking pictures with  people.  girls were actually lined up to do this.  um...just because your brother is famous (ish) YOU are not at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the opening band was pretty good.  they were called green river ordinance.  they had a few songs that i may check out on itunes today.  while they were on, i noticed that across the floor, there was an interpreter working.  i was too far away to see her face (all i know is she was left handed and blonde, shoulder length hair and maybe 40ish).  when david cook came on he commented about her.  he said "this is so cool.  we are so in the 90's with our concerts, i've never done this before."  then he asked her if she'd like to go on the road with them.  he seemed a bit thrown off by her presence all night, but didn't fuck with her too bad as some performers may do.  he was silly during his talks between songs, allowing his personality to show through.  at one point he said "you , come up here with the shirt.  you know who you are."  soon a girl came to the front carrying a shirt which she threw up to dc.  it said "i *heart* david arculetta" on it.  dc got quite a laugh over it and told his stage manager to make sure the girl had a "proper" shirt.  then he draped the shirt over the speaker at the front of the stage for the entire show.  all in all, the show was good.  he sounded very good and they played for about an hour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i've been taking it easy and trying to relax.  not so easy when you have a cat who refuses to shit in her litterbox.  this cat is about to find a new home.  i went today and got a second box (again) and put a different type of litter in it (again) to see if she'll use that.  it took every bit of my willpower to not strangle her today after cleaning up pile #5 (yes in one morning).  then i got to clean for a few hours.  justin was in the valley and promised he'd be home "early"  it currently 445p and he's not here yet.  early my ass.  so he got out of cleaning this weekend.  i'm a crabby mess today, so i'm going to try to chill out for a bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-5748259109344443267?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/5748259109344443267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/08/did-you-sign-that-david-cook.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/5748259109344443267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/5748259109344443267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/08/did-you-sign-that-david-cook.html' title='&quot;did you sign that?&quot;-david cook'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-1605851285325306753</id><published>2009-08-03T08:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T08:51:39.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'>august?  where did you come from?</title><content type='html'>time feels like its crawling and yet speeding by at the same time.  i can't believe its august already.  in the same breath though, i want it go go by faster so i can get back to a semblance of normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; always heard that pregnancy is a wonderful experience for some and a terrible one for others.  i am finding myself in the middle of that spectrum.  its not terrible now that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; able to keep my head out of the toilet.  but its certainly not what i would call "wonderful".  i know many who say they love being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;preggo&lt;/span&gt;, and i can't imagine myself ever saying that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things seem to be going well as far as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;marvin&lt;/span&gt; is concerned.  the big day is coming up soon.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;aug&lt;/span&gt; 17&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; we go to find out what sex &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;marvin&lt;/span&gt; is.  then there will be no more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;marvin&lt;/span&gt;, but a little jack or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;olivia&lt;/span&gt;.  all along, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been thinking/feeling that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;marvin&lt;/span&gt; is a chick, but have had my fingers crossed for a boy.  i know, i know, either way, so long as its healthy it really doesn't matter.  and it doesn't.  i just want to know either way so i can plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's the big change in me that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; noticed lately.  maybe its due to getting older, or maybe its a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;desperate&lt;/span&gt; attempt to control that which i can not.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been becoming increasingly dependent on a schedule and planning.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been finding myself trying to plan things out to the smallest detail.  this is causing my brain to go into overdrive at night, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not sleeping well.  this lack of sleep is probably my biggest bitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;abt&lt;/span&gt; being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;preggo&lt;/span&gt; right now.  (that and perhaps the amazingly bad acne..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;wtf&lt;/span&gt; hormones...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;wtf&lt;/span&gt;??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like we have so much to do before &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;marvin&lt;/span&gt; comes, and no money to do it.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; like a woman obsessed with all of this crap, when all i really want to do is relax.  again, #1 reason pregnancy is not wonderful for me.  on a good note, i think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; felt a few flutters from within that i can't attribute to gas (for once!) and that was very cool.  i like the idea of feeling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;marvin&lt;/span&gt; move around.  it helps me realize that everything is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; in there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eh..i don't know if i even have a point today.  my thoughts somehow don't make much sense sometimes.  (i think the little bugger has sucked out my intelligence along with my energy)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-1605851285325306753?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/1605851285325306753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-where-did-you-come-from.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1605851285325306753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1605851285325306753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-where-did-you-come-from.html' title='august?  where did you come from?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-516700000101681556</id><published>2009-07-13T08:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T08:58:03.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'>what dreams may come</title><content type='html'>so i've been reading all about pregnancy-the horror stories and especially the tales of what this state does to one's body.  through this self education, i'm learning about all kinds of terrible things---heartburn, hemorrhoids, gas, weird dreams, and the one that frightens me most___my feet may grow up to a size, thus rendering my lovely shoe collection worthless!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this blog serves as an outlet for me, and today i thought i'd use it to chronicle a few of the weird ass dreams i had just in the last two days.  i've been having weird dreams since marvin came along, and i've been meaning to write them down.  i haven't...most are strikingly vivid and very realistic.  i remember most in long chunks, though there are some that are just images.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i am at the home of a long time girl friend.  this house is not the one she lives in now, nor is it her childhood home.  we are both there and so are her parents and her brother.  there is a terrible tornado.  i remember seeing the very black sky whipping around us.  debris is everywhere.  shockingly, there is absolutely NO damage done to the house or anyone in it.  when it settles down, i decide to take a shower.  i go into the bathroom and do so.  when i'm done, i get out and with a towel wrapped around me i begin to brush my (dry) hair.  all of a sudden i hear a noise behind me.  i turn around, heart pounding.  there in the closet behind me is my friend's dad, watching me.  he comes over to me and takes me by the shoulders.  then he strokes my hair.  "pretty" he says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i snap awake at this point, all kinds of creeped out.  This is the dream from last night/this morning.  it's a bit of a two parter, as i think i had one and then woke up (probably to pee again).  when i went back to sleep, i had another with a few of the same characters.  part 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i am at an amusement park with all of the boyz and their wives.  we are all sitting loosely around some picnic tables, and we're eating.  i notice that the boy next to me (i shall leave names out to protect the innocent) looks very sad and upset.  so i ask what's up.  he looks at me and says, " you know that situation you're in?" eying my big belly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"yes"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"i'm in it too.  we just found out."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"OH! well, congratulations??" and i look at him knowing he's not happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"i don't think so.  we're fucked."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"well, when's it due to be here?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"september"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;now, somehow i know that its august in my dream. and i'm shocked that they kept it a secret from everyone for so long.  i'm also a bit jealous that someone else in the group will have a baby before mine is due to show up.  before i can say anything more, he gets up and walks away.  while he's gone, his wife begins talking loudly..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"so i had no idea what was wrong.  the dr kept running all these tests."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;another wife i can't see says, "what made you go in the first place?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"my face was all swollen."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so i say, " how far along are you?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;she says, "i don't know."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"well, honey, didn't they do an ultrasound?  measure your belly?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;she gets angry at me and yells, " I said i don't know!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;the second part of this involves the same husband and wife from the amusement park...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i'm driving back from the valley and it's very late.  i'm really tired and call the guy and ask if it's ok for me to crash at their place because i'm so tired and i don't think i can make it home. (side note-this makes no sense in real life because they  live not too far away from our place)  he says sure, c'mon over.  next thing i know, i'm there and he's at the door.  he shushes me and leads me upstairs (real life- they have a flat apt) to the spare bedroom in the dark.  the whole time he's silent.  there are a pile of sheets crumpled up on the bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"you'll have to make it, but they're clean." he says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"k, thanks"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;then he starts to make the bed and i open my bag and change into my pj's.  he then says, "she doesn't know you're here, so get up early and leave."  then he goes into his room, which is right next to where i am.  soon i hear her screaming at him "what do you mean someone's here?"  the start to argue and i sit there, on my knees at the side of the bed.  my elbows are on the mattress (think old school little kid prayer position) and i'm silently pulling out hundreds of straight pins from my palms.  next thing i know, she comes into the room and screams at me to leave.  i gather my things and go out the door.  i find myself in the ghetto (again not where they live) and i can't find my car.  i keep hitting the unlock on my keys, hoping to see my headlights flash.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i wake up to my alarm.  see what i mean?  super weird and nonsensical.  damn these hormones!&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/6544575642845725222-516700000101681556?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/516700000101681556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-dreams-may-come.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/516700000101681556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/516700000101681556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-dreams-may-come.html' title='what dreams may come'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-854199350503497441</id><published>2009-07-05T19:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T19:48:30.978-04:00</updated><title type='text'>frank and beans!</title><content type='html'>by far, THE best line &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; heard in ages was this, " uncle &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;juddy&lt;/span&gt;, is your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;peebug&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had just finished explaining to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;jake&lt;/span&gt; why it was very important that he tuck his "stuff" into his jeans before zipping.  to further illustrate my point, i told him how his uncle had, just the night before while in a drunken haze, forgotten this oh-so-very-important-tidbit while at the bar.  i also told him that now his poor uncle now had a boo boo on his you-know-whats-it and how he couldn't possibly want the same thing to happen to him.  now, when i was telling this very important life lesson to the tot, uncle was no where around. so i think it goes without saying that this surprise question (which was full of earnest concern) caught all of us off guard...especially uncle &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;juddy&lt;/span&gt;, who promptly replied by turning about eight different shades of purple before groaning, "aw...who told him?"  i must say that we all had a good chuckle at my hubby's expense.  he was a very good sport about it though, and even provided some details of the carnage to make everyone groan and laugh.  poor guy....all i can say is OUCH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the other very good line i heard came from none other than the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;peebug&lt;/span&gt; damaged man himself.  the same night the injury occurred, he decided to go to a local bar with his dad and his dad's good friend to play some pool.  lots of beer flowed and by the time i showed up (damn &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;pregger&lt;/span&gt; dd) he was feeling no pain (this is a good thing, since the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;something about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;mary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; incident happened early on in the night)  he even filled me in on what had happened (off to the side out of earshot of all), which helped to clarify the message &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt; received earlier simply stating "i hurt myself".  after hanging out for about an hour, we grabbed pizza and headed home.  some drunken and pregnant late night pigging out happened (lemme tell ya...it had to be like watching lions feed to the casual observer) after which we all parted ways to go to bed.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;jus&lt;/span&gt; was in an unusual chatty mood and decided to ramble away for awhile when we got to bed.  this was all fine and good, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;even though&lt;/span&gt; i was exhausted.  but THIS line woke me up and had me all confused.  the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;conversation&lt;/span&gt; went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c "go to bed would ya?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j " you know what you should do? you should sell your vagina to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;msnbc&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c" WHAT?!?!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j "or fox"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then he passed out.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; still not sure what the fuck he was talking about, but i did wonder if somewhere deep in that drunk mind of his he though of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; bits as used and ruined and figured we should try to get a little cash out of it since we will soon have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;marvin&lt;/span&gt; to support.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not sure, but i made sure to tell everyone that he said this, including his mom, who didn't find it the least bit funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next day i reminded him of his brilliant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;entrepreneurial&lt;/span&gt; idea and he got all embarrassed and swore he didn't remember saying that.  then he said it totally sucked that i was always sober now because any other time, i would have laughed my ass off but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;conveniently&lt;/span&gt; forgotten it the next day.  how true darling, how true...but remember.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"YOU DID THIS TO ME!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-854199350503497441?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/854199350503497441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/07/by-far-best-line-ive-heard-in-ages-was.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/854199350503497441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/854199350503497441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/07/by-far-best-line-ive-heard-in-ages-was.html' title='frank and beans!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-7653050722412530509</id><published>2009-07-02T18:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T18:52:20.042-04:00</updated><title type='text'>my list 'o rants</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, i feel the need to preface this by saying that i am honestly looking forward to this whole baby thing.  it's a surreal experience, but not an all bad one.  that being said, there are many things that i have discovered so far that i do NOT like about being pregnant.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; sure this list will change, and possibly grow as i grow (hardy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;har&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;har&lt;/span&gt;) but here goes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nothin&lt;/span&gt;':&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*i hate having tums for dessert-everything i eat these days gives me heartburn bad enough to rattle my kneecaps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*speaking of eating, i hate that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; ALWAYS eating.  i feel like a zoo animal!  can't miss my feeding or there WILL be hell to pay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* i hate that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; worked so hard to lose weight and now and too bloated to button my pants!  i know, i know--this is a beautiful thing and it will all be worth it...but damn it!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; spent so much money and time in the past year on losing weight that i could have just gone on a nice vacation and had plastic surgery after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;marvin&lt;/span&gt; gets here instead!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*and while we're on the subject of clothes--i bought this be band thingy to wear over my now too small pants.  this tube top looking contraption allows me to walk around with my pants undone and it holds them up for me.  nice concept yes?  however..this thing is so tight that when i go to pee, i have to yank it up around my middle.  this forces all my fat to either swell over the damn thing or squish under it.  i have always avoided such lovely things as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;spanx&lt;/span&gt; and girdles because the idea of wrestling my fat into a tight garment holds no glamour in my eyes.  now i have to do it about every 30 min because i pee that damn often. like wrestling with bacon fat and trying to stuff it into a drinking straw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* and while i am feeling better...i really don't like the looks that some people get on their faces when i am feeling bad.  they kinda smirk with this shit-eating look and say helpful things like "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ooo&lt;/span&gt;  not feeling well?"  or ""&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;heehee&lt;/span&gt;  looks like someone needs crackers"  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; people, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not a 4 yr old with an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;owie&lt;/span&gt;...stop the freaking baby talk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* and while we're on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;subject&lt;/span&gt; of people...people people people!!!!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; received more unsolicited advice in the past few weeks than i can recount.  i DO NOT want to hear about how long you were in labor, or about your water breaking, or about how much labor hurts.  i don't need to know why/how your child refused to "latch on", nor do i need details about your afterbirth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*and i saved the best for last---i miss wine!!  i miss relaxing at the end of the day with a nice glass of red.  i miss curling up with a book and a good bottle.  sighs....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-7653050722412530509?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/7653050722412530509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-list-o-rants.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/7653050722412530509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/7653050722412530509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-list-o-rants.html' title='my list &apos;o rants'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-7731114993608123260</id><published>2009-07-01T17:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T17:47:56.659-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm alive!</title><content type='html'>i haven't blogged in ages...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was afraid that i'd have nothing to talk about except THE NEWS and i didn't want to share that too early&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this may become a wee bit tmi (for you boy or sensitive readers)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been on the pill since i was 15.  that means 15 years of my body not having to regulate its own hormones and such...that's a long ass time.  i decided to quit the pill last year in late sept. to ready myself for the BIG BOOB SURGERY.  i had read about the links between the pill and clotting after surgery and that scared the ever-lovin shit outta me.  and so i kissed the all too familiar pink pack goodbye and prepared myself for a life with a period every month (i was on those cool pills that allowed for one every three months)  things seemed to jump right back to normal and all was well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;again...tmi--i had my "auntie" visit me on new years and then she seemed to pack up and move out.  every passing month was a pseudo tense one.  i like to get my drink on and have been known to smoke on occasion.  let's not lie---i get my drink on way too often but i blame justin.  he's a beer at night to relax kinda guy and i all too willingly joined his little club.  but at the same time, i was all paranoid that i was knockered up and unwittingly causing all kinds of damage to the little thing and that it was sure to be born with flippers or something.  as a result i began buying pregnancy tests monthly and peeing on the stick began somewhat of a habit.  (on an interesting side note, even though i am 30, each time i would pee on the stick i would have that "oh shit, if that 2nd line pops up i'm gonna have to tell mom! feeling)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my doctor kept giving me these pills that he swore would "kick start my flow", but they never seemed to kick start anything except a wave of crazy ass emotions that i could live without (ie. bawling on the kitchen floor in front of the open fridge because we are out of coke)  and by april/may, i'd figured that i'd sunk enough money into ept and decided that money was better spent on liquer, so i quit the habitual peeing on a stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my doctor decided to run a whole lot of blood tests to see what the hell was making me all wonky (hold the comments peanut gallery)..first he tested the thyroid...normal...then he checked some other shit ( i may have been too drunk and or bored to pay attention to what he was looking for)  everything was coming out just fine...so then he pops this one on me..."i think we need to test some other hormone levels...you may be infertile."  gulp---ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;around the same time, i started to wonder when the hell my flu was going to go away (see where i'm headed don't cha?)  i went to my training session one wed and damn near fainted and had myself a proper asthma attack for the first time in ages.  now because i am a chick, anytime my tummy has so much of a twinge, the first thing i think is " oh god am  i knocked up?"  this is always made worse when i call my mother and she says " you're not pregnant are you?"  so i rooted around under my bathroom sink and found a test...peed...sweet jebus!  is that a faint 2nd line???  quickly i grab another test, say a quick thanks to my trainer for forcing me to drink so much damned water that i CAN pee right away again....3 min later---its so faint i think i'm seeing things....  i call mom..she suggests a calm down and not get myself too worked up, the test results are due from the dr on monday...MONDAY!!!  ITS FRIDAY!! i can't wait a whole weekend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i text my friend chris with my dilemma and he quickly calls me a dumbass and tells me to hightail it to cvs and get the test WITH FUCKING WORDS.  brilliant plan...i manage to stop puking long enough to make the 2 min trip.  i come home armed with 3 more tests..all the kind that show words and not pesky lines...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"holy shit!  there's no NOT in front of that pregnant word!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i quickly snap a picture and email it to justin and chris.  i call my mom.  she keeps saying that i need to not get my hopes up and wait for the doc.  justin replies with a simple, all encompassing--"wow"  followed later by an incredulous  "my boys can swim?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nurse calls monday--"are you sitting down?  you're pregnant!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow wow wow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we make an appt since we have no idea how far i could be.  6 weeks.  i'm instantly hit with pangs of guilt...during my wee pregnancy i had already broken damn near every rule-  i had been drunk (hammered) a few times, gotten a tattoo and even shared a joint with friends...christ.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;turns out all is ok so far though...i'm now 10 1/2 weeks and everything looks ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is our 9 week photo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SkvXdsAPRjI/AAAAAAAAAEw/WNbFiwgQ0t0/s1600-h/gummy+9+week.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SkvXdsAPRjI/AAAAAAAAAEw/WNbFiwgQ0t0/s320/gummy+9+week.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353609487088305714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we call it "marvin" due to its resemblance to marvin the martian.  mom's not too thrilled with our name but too bad mama!  lol   i'm slowly feeling better.  i was so sick for a couple of weeks that i could read or even look at the computer screen without yakking.  (thus another reason for my absence)   thank goodness i graduated from school right before all the bad sickness ran  me over! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now, i'm attempting to deal with all the crazy emotions that marvin brings.  we're happy, no doubt there, but i've been a rollercoaster of crazy.  most recently, was me crying into my bowl of potatoes because i was hungry but i didn't want potatoes...but i kept eating them!!!  oy vey--i've never been such a mess!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyhow---off to the gym...hopefully i will update again soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-7731114993608123260?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/7731114993608123260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-alive.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/7731114993608123260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/7731114993608123260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-alive.html' title='i&apos;m alive!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SkvXdsAPRjI/AAAAAAAAAEw/WNbFiwgQ0t0/s72-c/gummy+9+week.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-1501692289338736504</id><published>2009-05-27T12:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T13:30:06.404-04:00</updated><title type='text'>copay????  i don't think so!</title><content type='html'>when did doctors get so busy that they no longer care about the people they serve?  That's right...they SERVE me, they provide a service.  Now, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; more than willing to pay them for their time.  They provide a good service and one that i (unfortunately) must use often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ent&lt;/span&gt; about a month ago.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; always had sinus and allergy issues, but haven't had the insurance to see an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ent&lt;/span&gt; in years.  for my first visit, i budgeted 2 hrs of my time, thinking that i was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;waaay&lt;/span&gt; over estimating.  well, it took 3.  10 minutes of the 3 hrs was spent with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;, the rest was waiting.  waiting in the waiting room, waiting in the exam room....waiting......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt; also had a piss poor attitude about my hearing loss.  i know i have hearing loss...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; come to terms with it.  it was devastating at first....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; over it.  he acted like it was the worst news ever and even chided me for not wearing my hearing aids!  (i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ony&lt;/span&gt; wear them for work) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, anyhow, he orders a cat scan of my head to see what's going on in there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; visit-  i ask specifically how long it would take and was told no more than an hour since all he had to do was go over the results.  i book an hour, 230-330.  I booked another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt; for 345 that afternoon.  i get there at 215, sign in and inform the lady that i had to leave at 330.  then i sit....and sit..... 3pm rolls around and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; still in the waiting room.  i approach the front desk and inform her that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; now 30 min past my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt; time and have 30 min left.  i ask if they are running way behind and if i should reschedule.  she says no and that they will see me right away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i go in the back and sit....and sit... the nurse comes in and checks my vitals.  i stress to her that i have about 10 minutes left before i have to leave.  she says no problem, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt; is aware an coming.  330 comes and no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;.  so i gather my bag and leave.  walking down the hallway i run into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt; and his intern. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"where are you going?", he says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i told them receptionist and your nurse that i had another appointment and had to leave at 330."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well, what time is your appointment?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"345, i have to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well, its only 330."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"no, no, my appointment with YOU was an hour ago, 230."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"oh well....you're leaving?  we haven't gone over your results." (this man is smart enough to be a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt; eh?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"yes, you see i respect people who block out time in their day for me.  i show them this respect by showing up to appointments ON TIME, just like i did FOR YOU."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i continue down the hall and out into the lobby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; walking out the door and the receptionist stops me by yelling my name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"wait &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;christy&lt;/span&gt;, you didn't pay your co-pay!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i stop...and turn around thinking she surely must be mistaken. so, i tell her, "no, i didn't get to see the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt; at all, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not paying."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"you owe $30 for a co-pay"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i don't think you heard me...i didn't see the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not paying a damn fee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ma'am watch your language"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"what???  who the fuck are you to tell me what i can and can not say?  I'm not paying the god damned fee."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;christina&lt;/span&gt;, you have to stop cursing and pay your co-pay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"who are you?  my fucking mom?  I don't think so (by now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not being quiet at all)  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not paying your fucking co-pay, you can kiss my ass!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at this point i turn to the room full of people (all adults -had there been children i would have made a better effort to censor myself) and announce, " i hope you all brought something to read and have nothing to do all day---you'll be here forever!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and with that i stomped out.  now, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not saying that my response was at all appropriate, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not the type to keep quiet about how i feel and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; not the type to allow people to talk to me like they are my mother.  i am an adult woman and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; curse when and where i please.  besides, had the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt; seen me, we wouldn't have had that problem right????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-1501692289338736504?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/1501692289338736504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/05/copay-i-dont-think-so.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1501692289338736504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1501692289338736504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/05/copay-i-dont-think-so.html' title='copay????  i don&apos;t think so!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-1856582495273766659</id><published>2009-05-18T15:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T16:18:47.119-04:00</updated><title type='text'>excuse me, you're in my bubble....</title><content type='html'>so i went to the store last week ("last week!"' you say....yes yes..i've been way too focused on homework and not nearly focused enough on my blogging...)  anyhow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;picture it....sicily..no wait, kroger in dublin.  the hunny is gone for the weekend (woohoo) and all i want to do is have some me time.  (not THAT kind of me time zachary.... our mothers read this)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lemme back up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i took myself out to dinner for a yummy steak.  i took my kindle with me for company..everywhere around me were tables full of family types.  loud children ran around the joint like unleashed wild animals while the adults either continued to chew their cud, i mean food and ignore them, or ran around after them like the helicopter parents they are.  i actually got what i registered as looks of pity from these people!  wait a minute....I'M not the one sitting here watching these little ankle biters running around while wishing to be whisked away...oh no!  i'm here happily stuffing my face while stuffing my nose into a book.  my world is zen...i have no curtain climbers ruining MY evening thank-you-very-much   though i do digress....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after this outing, i decided that the perfect evening for me would be a night of wine and chick flicks.  this is unusual for me, i'm not a weep at the movies type of gal (i have zac  for this), but i am very much a supporter of the kill-a-bottle-of-wine-alone---no-it's-not-sad-at-all school of thought.  i decided that i would download (thanks netflix!!) steel magnolias   i love ouiser and the movie cracks me up before it makes me sob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i whiz through kroger.  pick up bottle 'o red and some chips.  i am ready.  i go to the u scan.(sidebar- my step dad and my grandma don't like to use these.  they say it's because using them means you're not using a cashier, thus driving the need down and causing cashiers everywhere to lose their jobs.  i think they're really just afraid of the machine that talks to you in a cute, back woods kind of way...)  because i bought wine, and because the lady is so sweet, i had to show my id to the cashier before i could continue.  i go over to do so, and have to stand in line because she was helping some old fart who couldn't figure out the newfangled gizmo thang...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i show my proof of age and the turn to finish up my order.  and there, standing by my wine is the biggest....the scariest looking woman i've ever seen.  she's mammoth ok?  and not like stuck in the house, someone call the fire department, gilbert grape's mama big...oh no.. this is the my harley and my woman are outside waiting for me to pick up some red meat and tobacco and some ice cold natty light type o gal.  she's frightening.  i say( more meekly than i'm proud of)  "i'm not finished."  she says oh and then stands there.  breathing on me.....watching me finish my order...i'm about to swipe my card and i turn to her and summon up the courage, knowing that i just may be found in pieces scattered in the parking lot with harley tire tracks on my face later, and say-"can you move back please?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl was in my bubble, you know what i mean???  i'm not a shy person, i'm ok with human contact, but GET OUT OF MY SPACE!!  remember dirty dancing?  THIS (arm sweeping happens here ) is my space...THAT is yours.  this woman had no concept of personal space.    she did back up and i did finish.  i also scooted my chunky ass out the door and into my car a wee bit quicker than normal.  a girl can never be too sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-1856582495273766659?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/1856582495273766659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/05/excuse-me-youre-in-my-bubble.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1856582495273766659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1856582495273766659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/05/excuse-me-youre-in-my-bubble.html' title='excuse me, you&apos;re in my bubble....'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-6547990699392275191</id><published>2009-05-06T13:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T14:05:27.475-04:00</updated><title type='text'>pissy vicky</title><content type='html'>Ok, so what i'd like to know today is...who decided that in order for a girl to work at victoria's secret she must be a world class snot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not the biggest fan of shopping.  i generally do most of that online with the exception of shoes.  but, now that i've bought myself some new girls; i don't have to special order the lunch lady bras i used to wear anymore(woohoo!!!!!)  a few weeks back, i decided that the new ladies were healed up enough to attempt life with an underwire again.  i'd never NOT had an underwire before the surgery, and can't imagine life without one.  this is kinda strange.  i thought that after my surgery i would never want one again, but they just don't seem as perky without one.  this is me before surgery to give you an idea of the massive boobage i'm talking about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SgHQmb-V1RI/AAAAAAAAAEg/-ZSIZfZX1FM/s1600-h/surgery+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SgHQmb-V1RI/AAAAAAAAAEg/-ZSIZfZX1FM/s320/surgery+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332772792546219282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i decided to be brave and go to vicky's.  i am instantly uncomfortable when i walk into a vicky's.  the place smells like a church...all the floral perfumes intermingling, and one instantly is surrounded by reasons to feel bad about yourself....seeing all the tiny thongs make me long for thinner days and regret whatever it was i had for lunch that day.  another annoying thing is the sales girls...these prissy, clad-in-all-black, chicks must be able to sense fresh meat much like a ravenous lioness, because they swarm around their prey before she can even make it to the bra section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, the first time i went, it was painfully long.  i did find (miracles of all miracles) a sweet saleslady who helped me figure out what size i am now and what styles i like best.  it took forever and poor justin had to sit out in the bored-off-their-ass-husband area.  you know, the couch where the boys sit and fantasize about their wives wearing barely there shit that no one over a size 0 can pull off without massive loads of booze?  i must say, he was a brave soldier who kept emailing me fun, gigantic boob pictures while i was trapped in the fitting room waiting for some help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/HP_ADM%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he also received what he deemed fabulous news, and what i declared a "fucking joke", i am a 36 D now.  look guys, i paid to have these things trimmed down-no-scratch that....i wanted major cutting.  i asked the surgeon for a B, she recommended  C I have a D.  I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT THIS.  i know, D is not huge and all that, but c'mon!  i must admit, it's still one hell of a difference...before and after..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SgHRAUHIsRI/AAAAAAAAAEo/aOaVREMxNUk/s1600-h/bras.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 113px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SgHRAUHIsRI/AAAAAAAAAEo/aOaVREMxNUk/s320/bras.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332773237112221970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, today i decided to brave the store again to use up my remaining gift card.  i also realized that in my shopping bliss i had neglected to get a plain white or a plain black bra.  i was so enticed by the idea of colorful bras, that i ignored basics.  so i go in and am immediately surrounded by the girls.  i tell the one exactly what i want.  "the body by victoria bra in black and in white please"  she leads me through the maze of unmentionables and to where i need to be.  i spot my size and snag the two i want.  she says, "have you tried the biofit?  i just love it!" (this line, to be most effective should be read in your best valley girl/cheerleader voice)  i reply that i have tried it and have it at home, but am not a fan because the straps always fall down.  she looks very perplexed (even tilts her head to the side like a puppy who can't find his ball) and says "um, like, you know you can adjust the straps right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RIIIGHT...i grit my teeth and kindly say "yes, i DO know that.  i want these bras only thanks"   then this brilliant little tart says" well how about a push up bra...i mean cleavage is like...in"  i say no thanks and she then launches into a cute little antedote on cleavage and how much boys like it...i look her dead in the eye (with my beautiful bloody eye mind you) and say "look honey, i've spent most of my life with tits bigger than you can imagine.  i do not want cleavage ok?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i swear she looked like someone had smacked her in the face!  she even flinched...her mouth dropped open and she huffed away leaving me to smugly make my way to the check out toting the two plain jane bras i'd come for.   i just want to take one of these ladies by the shoulders, give her a good hard shake and yell "SNAP OUT OF IT FOR JEEBUS SAKE!"  but i'm afraid i'll shake the brains right out of her noggin' and she'll never become the scientist she's meant to be....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-6547990699392275191?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/6547990699392275191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/05/pissy-vicky.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/6547990699392275191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/6547990699392275191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/05/pissy-vicky.html' title='pissy vicky'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SgHQmb-V1RI/AAAAAAAAAEg/-ZSIZfZX1FM/s72-c/surgery+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-2580379826293700915</id><published>2009-04-28T18:04:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T18:44:03.345-04:00</updated><title type='text'>who let the dogs out?</title><content type='html'>....lemme tell you about my day today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to wake up very early to get moving today...something kinda hard to do after the rough weekend i told ya'll about.  so i chug my coffee and realize at about cup #3 that i just may have made it too strong...and i'm already driving at this point...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Christy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Christy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sfd-orAMUoI/AAAAAAAAAD4/cj1QeN4yO0M/s1600-h/poo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sfd-orAMUoI/AAAAAAAAAD4/cj1QeN4yO0M/s320/poo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329867921219670658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;um..yeah   not starting off too well.  so i manage to NOT shit myself and make it plenty early enough to  *ahem* attend to nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i'm in good spirits, hopped up on caffeine and ready to conquer my day.  then i go into the conference room.....it's a conference about disabilities and accommodations.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sfd_fDNP_cI/AAAAAAAAAEA/E_ntTO_ruTQ/s1600-h/quiz.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 111px; height: 80px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sfd_fDNP_cI/AAAAAAAAAEA/E_ntTO_ruTQ/s320/quiz.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329868855429823938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what do blind and many disabled folks have that i'm severely allergic to????  you guessed it-gold star for you....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sfd_4DrAMOI/AAAAAAAAAEI/AcmpfLxQk5g/s1600-h/service_dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sfd_4DrAMOI/AAAAAAAAAEI/AcmpfLxQk5g/s320/service_dog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329869285051347170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shit.  shit shit shit....there are like 18 dogs in the room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;within an hour i'm a snotty, wheezy mess.  and i have about 8 more hours left to go.  what do i do?  the only rational thing i can...  i take benadryl...three of them...in addition to the daily allergy meds i take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fast forward about 2 hrs    how am i feeling??????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SfeBQ_PdO0I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/gf80G9dO7IQ/s1600-h/buzzed.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 121px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SfeBQ_PdO0I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/gf80G9dO7IQ/s200/buzzed.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329870812870425410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah..try making sense out of fast talking speakers when you barely feel able to tie your own shoes without slobbering on the floor.   speaking of shoes...i also wore my newest, cutest shoes today.  can we say BLISTERS??  ee gads   i wasn't even standing all day.  wtf??  those bitches are going back damnit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by the end of the day i was a hot mess.  the last workshop was about wounded vets coming home and the speaker was talking about exploding IEDs causing so many injuries....um yeah...i kept saying exploding IUDs which, while funny and would be traumatic if they did, in fact, explode is very very NOT what the presenter was saying.  i also said that wheelchair ramps could have up to an 80% grade????  wha???  that's like almost straight up and down!  the worst part was i knew somewhere in my drug riddled mind i knew that that was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah - the consumer also told me that my eye looked freaky..she's right it's worse today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm beat...i'm deflated...i'm stuffy and near asthma attack hell...i'm gonna go massage my blistered feet and puff on an inhaler &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;later guys&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-2580379826293700915?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/2580379826293700915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/04/who-let-dogs-out.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/2580379826293700915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/2580379826293700915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/04/who-let-dogs-out.html' title='who let the dogs out?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Sfd-orAMUoI/AAAAAAAAAD4/cj1QeN4yO0M/s72-c/poo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-8171941960314656174</id><published>2009-04-27T09:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T09:25:59.441-04:00</updated><title type='text'>oh..grow up!</title><content type='html'>I had a weekend full of ups and downs.  I had class all day saturday, definate down.  this class blows big time.  you can tell the teacher doesn't want to be there and none of the students are thrilled about it either.  blah..few more weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after class, i went to get my 6th tattoo.  i haven't gotten a tattoo in about five years and i must say...i like it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SfWvPus-ZbI/AAAAAAAAADo/ORVXryTnFpQ/s1600-h/tat2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SfWvPus-ZbI/AAAAAAAAADo/ORVXryTnFpQ/s320/tat2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329358418832418226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is taken right after i got it while driving home.  i think it's super cute and it's my first one with color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after i got home, i worked on some check printing for an upcoming workshop and then went to meet the boyz at a nearby bar.  they had gone to the osu spring game and were in need of dinner and beer, but mostly-shade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fast forward about 10 hrs.....coming home from white castle with jus and chad.  jus is driving and decides to be funny and try to make me drop my beloved chicken rings by hitting the brakes.  he succeeds the second time to with i deftly responded by picking up a big cup of coke and throwing it in his face.  yes-while he's driving.  there was pop EVERYWHERE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday i felt worse than i have in years..sick sick sick...i pleaded with the universe, swore to swear off booze forever...all to no avail.  i ended up kneeling in prayer to the porcelain gods.  in doing this, apparently i was quite forceful because i broke lots of blood vessels in and around my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SfWxeyjeVpI/AAAAAAAAADw/_VaJlyymLJg/s1600-h/IMG00044-20090426-1759.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SfWxeyjeVpI/AAAAAAAAADw/_VaJlyymLJg/s320/IMG00044-20090426-1759.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329360876587603602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, i'm a mess.  lol  i'm feeling back to normal today, but my eye will be a scarlet letter of sorts for the next week or so.  i actually think its worse today than in this photo.  the red touches the blue of my eye now.  how embarrassing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will i ever learn???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah- i cleaned all the pop yesterday...well, not all of it...seems chad had some spillage in the back seat as well...will do that today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-8171941960314656174?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/8171941960314656174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/04/ohgrow-up.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/8171941960314656174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/8171941960314656174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/04/ohgrow-up.html' title='oh..grow up!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SfWvPus-ZbI/AAAAAAAAADo/ORVXryTnFpQ/s72-c/tat2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-7078018979126867974</id><published>2009-04-20T21:19:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T21:41:55.668-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures of you</title><content type='html'>I decided to go through some old pictures tonight.  this is something i like to do every now and again.  they make me smile and remember great times.  they also make me laugh.  tonight i caught myself remembering how much fun i had growing up playing euchre at my grandparents'.  my friends would join and we  loved  it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0f0619IzI/AAAAAAAAACI/779CrALRUT4/s1600-h/scan0022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0f0619IzI/AAAAAAAAACI/779CrALRUT4/s320/scan0022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326948928258384690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;lol!  no...really...we did&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0gGZVkPFI/AAAAAAAAACQ/RO_bPXCPdRc/s1600-h/scan0023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0gGZVkPFI/AAAAAAAAACQ/RO_bPXCPdRc/s320/scan0023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326949228501810258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;well....HE LOVED IT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0gT4zC7EI/AAAAAAAAACY/973dGTqiqpE/s1600-h/scan0024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0gT4zC7EI/AAAAAAAAACY/973dGTqiqpE/s320/scan0024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326949460285254722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG!  we are a beautiful bunch!  that got me thinking about some other favorite shots of myself and family members showing the world how we feel about having pictures taken.  we have many different responses to someone saying "say cheese!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it starts with an "ok ok...i'll give you a scary-ass grin damnit"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0hfxZF_QI/AAAAAAAAACg/vXabp_My8xk/s1600-h/scan0012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0hfxZF_QI/AAAAAAAAACg/vXabp_My8xk/s320/scan0012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326950763967413506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;then we start to wonder if you'll ever stop taking our picture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0hzXPvoiI/AAAAAAAAACo/EPGqiFqrB38/s1600-h/scan0013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0hzXPvoiI/AAAAAAAAACo/EPGqiFqrB38/s320/scan0013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326951100546261538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; we might get nervous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0iApgDCoI/AAAAAAAAACw/wMtLO8mgy50/s1600-h/scan0017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0iApgDCoI/AAAAAAAAACw/wMtLO8mgy50/s320/scan0017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326951328784779906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; or annoyed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0iNATfJiI/AAAAAAAAAC4/c7uKcg0rWyg/s1600-h/scan0015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0iNATfJiI/AAAAAAAAAC4/c7uKcg0rWyg/s320/scan0015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326951541064541730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;especially if you caught us by surprise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0iYkXFSSI/AAAAAAAAADA/IvhELMQIHKk/s1600-h/scan0014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0iYkXFSSI/AAAAAAAAADA/IvhELMQIHKk/s320/scan0014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326951739721861410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0iicqjAfI/AAAAAAAAADI/kXLv3ktEekI/s1600-h/scan0016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0iicqjAfI/AAAAAAAAADI/kXLv3ktEekI/s320/scan0016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326951909454709234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;then we might get a little bit crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0iwatPY-I/AAAAAAAAADQ/fNnVP-9VylM/s1600-h/scan0019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0iwatPY-I/AAAAAAAAADQ/fNnVP-9VylM/s320/scan0019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326952149447304162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and make threats of violence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0i9rUXxzI/AAAAAAAAADY/pnqwW3sJ2l0/s1600-h/scan0021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0i9rUXxzI/AAAAAAAAADY/pnqwW3sJ2l0/s320/scan0021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326952377244698418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which would definitely leave us very worn out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0jMLrm53I/AAAAAAAAADg/7c5kHywau8Q/s1600-h/scan0020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0jMLrm53I/AAAAAAAAADg/7c5kHywau8Q/s320/scan0020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326952626450261874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry...i'm lame!  i just love making fun of bad pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; i just realized that this blog sounds very much like a childrens' book and that happened unintentionally.  my apologies....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-7078018979126867974?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/7078018979126867974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/04/pictures-of-you.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/7078018979126867974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/7078018979126867974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/04/pictures-of-you.html' title='Pictures of you'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/Se0f0619IzI/AAAAAAAAACI/779CrALRUT4/s72-c/scan0022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-295361800123572523</id><published>2009-04-06T15:27:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T16:24:52.971-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The things we carry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SdpZaB4hmHI/AAAAAAAAABo/OERm5jo0c1g/s1600-h/DSCF3263.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SdpZaB4hmHI/AAAAAAAAABo/OERm5jo0c1g/s200/DSCF3263.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321664213408651378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, because I'm bored (all the homework is finished for now) I was surfing around the net and I stumbled upon another blog and the author did this activity. I thought it was kinda cool so i decided to play along. and yes-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;justin&lt;/span&gt;- this is why i interrupted your work day with a phone call asking the whereabouts of the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the deal, First take a photo, or photos of your bag. The everyday bag- not the cute little pouch you may carry to go out- your lug it around, makes grooves in your shoulders bag. i happen to love this bag and get many compliments on it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW, TAKE EVERYTHING OUT.  EVERYTHING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;take a photo and list what you've got.  you can learn a lot about a person by what they lug around everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SdphYORVEkI/AAAAAAAAACA/i3QTtNV2Qt4/s1600-h/DSCF3264.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SdphYORVEkI/AAAAAAAAACA/i3QTtNV2Qt4/s400/DSCF3264.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321672978467197506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;we have:&lt;br /&gt;a kindle&lt;br /&gt;blackberry and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bluetooth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hairbrush&lt;br /&gt;notebook&lt;br /&gt;pen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ipod&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tide pen&lt;br /&gt;floss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;eyedrops&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 packs gum&lt;br /&gt;inhaler&lt;br /&gt;airborne&lt;br /&gt;hearing aid batteries(the hearing aids are normally in there too-was wearing them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;mucinex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;benadryl&lt;/span&gt;( hey-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; allergic to A LOT)&lt;br /&gt;lotion&lt;br /&gt;baggie of raisins and almonds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;odwalla&lt;/span&gt; bar&lt;br /&gt;tampon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;aveeno&lt;/span&gt; cream (again-allergies anyone?)&lt;br /&gt;envelope full of parking receipts&lt;br /&gt;big wallet i never use&lt;br /&gt;little wallet i DO use&lt;br /&gt;parking voucher&lt;br /&gt;concealer&lt;br /&gt;several lip glosses&lt;br /&gt;id card for work&lt;br /&gt;business cards (mine)&lt;br /&gt;business card (someone i met the other day)&lt;br /&gt;memory card&lt;br /&gt;compact&lt;br /&gt;the card for my hairdresser (my hair needs a hug, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been carrying it as a reminder to set up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAMN i carry tons o shit!  no wonder my bag weighs so much.  maybe this will inspire me to spring clean the darn thing.  there are also times when this has even more in it like water bottle and more books. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, there ya have it-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;allergry&lt;/span&gt; saddled girl who loves &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;tekkie&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;gizmos&lt;/span&gt; and lip gloss and gum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would love to see some of my fellow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;bloggers&lt;/span&gt; bare their secrets and dump the bags out with camera in hand.  boys---wallets could be used instead.  who's up for it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-295361800123572523?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/295361800123572523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/04/things-we-carry.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/295361800123572523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/295361800123572523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/04/things-we-carry.html' title='The things we carry'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SdpZaB4hmHI/AAAAAAAAABo/OERm5jo0c1g/s72-c/DSCF3263.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-1970433928772720656</id><published>2009-04-03T14:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T18:03:56.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll be your anchor .....</title><content type='html'>So I worked downtown today. Let me tell you, the weather today was crappy. (still is). Cool, rainy, and WINDY. I got to my job this morning a holy mess. I had to walk a few blocks to get there, no big deal.....except for the shitty weather. So I walk in with an inside out umbrella, soaking wet, and so wind swept that my hair had formed a bird's nest-like cocoon around my face. Then the security guard had to paw around in my bag. Poor dear. I'm one of those girls who favors big, bottomless bags that are overloaded with random shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward four hours. The rain has stopped. Weeee! So I go to the corner to cross high street. The wind had become even worse by this time. I'm standing there on the corner waiting for the light and trying to keep upright when I acknowledge this little asian lady standing next t me. Now, when I say acknowledge, I mean make brief eye contact. The kind strangers make to share similar thoughts without speaking. You know, like for a second. Next thing I know, miss itty bitty clamps her hands around my arm and snuggles up to my side. Shocked, I turn to look at her and try to remove my arm from her iron grasp. She looks up at me and starts rattling away in some language I can neither identify or hear due to the hurricane force winds. I can only assume that this tiny woman saw me- a good sized chick and thought "ah! She has no chance in hell of being blown away!". So we cross the street together, me dragging this pint sized person headlong into the gusts, she clinging to the side of some stranger in a fabulous red trench coat. Once we're across, she realizes I'm going in a different direction than she so she pats my cheek, pulls up her collar and heads off. I can only hope she didn't get tossed around like a helpless rag doll without her chubby american anchor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's to you little asian lady. Hope you made it ok!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-1970433928772720656?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/1970433928772720656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/04/ill-be-your-anchor.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1970433928772720656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1970433928772720656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/04/ill-be-your-anchor.html' title='I&apos;ll be your anchor .....'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-1000690362555696467</id><published>2009-03-26T08:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T08:45:25.565-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Singing in the rain</title><content type='html'>So over the last few days I&amp;#39;ve noticed a weird behavior being exhibited by those around me. Singing. Just folks breaking out in song. Maybe its because its spring. I don&amp;#39;t know, but I feel like I&amp;#39;m trapped in High School Musical the Columbus edition. And- none of these people have been GOOD. None of them!  &lt;p&gt;I was annoyed by &amp;quot;Boo&amp;quot; the love ballad belting Bob Evan&amp;#39;s waitress.  Petrified by &amp;quot;Princess pop&amp;quot; who found it wholly appropriate to potty and let loose her vocal prowess. And would have loved to bitch slap &amp;quot;Hallelujah Hannah&amp;quot; who felt the need to summon the father,son,and holy ghost to the on the job training I was working!  Hello!  This cubicle is crowded enough! And this was all in the last two days!&lt;p&gt;Now, I like music and I love to sing. In fact, I&amp;#39;m a Grammy winning rock star (in my car and in my dreams). I just ask that if you feel the need to serenade me......please be able to carry a tune!  &lt;br&gt;Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-1000690362555696467?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/1000690362555696467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/03/singing-in-rain.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1000690362555696467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1000690362555696467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/03/singing-in-rain.html' title='Singing in the rain'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-4374736379879552695</id><published>2009-03-20T06:29:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T06:44:28.498-04:00</updated><title type='text'>you spin me right round</title><content type='html'>It's been quite a while since my last post.  i've been wanting to blog, but i can't really blog about what's going on in my life.  and that frustrates me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been having some issues at work.  butting heads with the owners.  it's been stressing me out-it's been making me physically ill(digestive issues, headaches, mystery rashes that i scratch at til they bleed...) and mentally drained.  that's all i will say....for now...let's just say it's NOT good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i finally finished up my quarter at school.  last weekend was quite a busy one.  i was in akron all day saturday to co-present a workshop for interpreters.  it was my very first time standing in front of a group of my peers to attempt to teach and share knowledge....i was scared to death!!!!!  but, i had a very knowledgeable and supportive co-presenter, and all went very well.  the feedback was very positive and i think that that experience has turned something on in my brain.  i want to do it again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then on sunday i had three final exams to take care of...now i can breathe and take a week and a half off from school.  if all goes well i should graduate in june with my BS in Education with a focus on Interpreting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good thing that school finished when it did.  now work has gone all to hell and it is literally sucking all the energy and focus out of me.  it's an icky situation to say the least and i'm not sure how to resolve the whole matter.  i've been presented with an option, but am not sure yet if said option will work out for justin.  speaking of justin---happy birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, a catch up blog of sorts i suppose.  i feel like everything in my world is changing and the "not knowing" of the whole thing is killing me.  i like to control the things that happen in my life as much as possible and feel quite upset and stressed when i don't.  so i find myself pounding down the coffee, sleeping like shit, and going through the motions of life frantically.  i'm more scatterbrained than usual(i forgot to pay the electric bill yet again-causing yet another threat of disconnection) and i just feel run over, run down, and like i'm getting the run around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-4374736379879552695?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/4374736379879552695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/03/you-spin-me-right-round.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/4374736379879552695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/4374736379879552695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/03/you-spin-me-right-round.html' title='you spin me right round'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-1901105731819561609</id><published>2009-03-02T19:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T20:27:56.127-05:00</updated><title type='text'>karma</title><content type='html'>so i got to thinking about karma today and i decided to run through a few things that have happened to me in the past week or so.  ways &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; tempted karma and ways she's handed it to me.  now these incidents are not directly related but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; chosen to lay it out this way anyhow. deal with it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my crime: i brought up the fact that a work out buddy hadn't shaved her armpits in a long time (she's building up the growth for a waxing)  in front of someone else and i think it embarrassed her.  this wasn't my intention, but shame on me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;punishment:  i damn near ripped my ear of with a hairbrush this morning...it's still throbbing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;crime: i not only gave a complete stranger my best "mom face" when he tried to run me down like a wild man with his child's stroller at the mall, but i called him and asshole out loud with the child present&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;punishment:  i almost busted my face open on my dresser....this is because i was half asleep and making a vain attempt to put my underwear on...guess my coordination skills are lacking, especially before coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;crime:  i guffawed loudly and without abandon at a big woman wearing black sequined tights and hooker boots when she walked into a store.  i was 2 seconds from pointing unabashedly....( most of you may be familiar with the great line from steel magnolias, "it looks like two pigs fighting under a blanket", well, this chick looked like she had two burlap bags filled with gravel under her tights)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;punishment: while washing my hair i got shampoo in my eye.  this resulted in a wild &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;herky&lt;/span&gt; jerky dance followed by my naked self slipping and taking down the entire shower curtain, pole and all (thank goodness &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;justin&lt;/span&gt; was out of town, though had i really injured myself you'd all be reading about the woman who slipped and fell and broke her neck and was subsequently eaten by her ginormous cats)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;side note-if any of you are familiar with my old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;myspace&lt;/span&gt; blogs, you may remember that i have this nasty little habit of getting hazardous shit into my eyes-shit like hair dye and liquid eyeliner (i should re-post those experiences here) both of these events were way more painful than the time i accidentally super glued my entire mouth shut, though not nearly as embarrassing..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;crime: (this one is ongoing) i like to quietly fart in public places and then blame something (not me) for the wicked stench...i did it recently at a bar and the gym..."&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;jeesuus&lt;/span&gt; the plumbing here sucks..do you smell that????"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;punishment: i realised that thanks to this nasty habit my car reeks...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; nice enough to hold it in until i get to my car sometimes...i gotta stop doing this!  not like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; ever get a decent trade in on the car but....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;c'mon&lt;/span&gt; ( note to self, must buy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;febreeze&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;crime: just in general i make fun of everyone, like the woman who wore shorts so short to work out at the gym that i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; she left the locker room without her pants....i haven't seen that many dimples since i last had cottage cheese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;punishment:  i washed my favorite fleece jacket only to find when i went to pull it on that it looks like it was washed and dried with a poodle....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;side note 1- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt; never ever harm a pet, but just sometimes i could see why someone would do this to a poodle when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; home in the valley and have to listen to my mom's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;yappy&lt;/span&gt; little bitch (the dog that was originally mine and that i left there when i moved)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;side note 2- one of my all time favorite stories was when in high school a good friend's cat was accidentally killed in the family's dryer...i know, i know..see what i mean about karma????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-1901105731819561609?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/1901105731819561609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/03/karma.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1901105731819561609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1901105731819561609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/03/karma.html' title='karma'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-3833800915485685682</id><published>2009-02-28T11:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T12:44:16.769-05:00</updated><title type='text'>velvet cake...velvet elvis...</title><content type='html'>went to dinner last night with the "clique"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..we decided to forgo the usual haunts in the polaris area and went to figlio instead....mmmmm i ate more pasta than i should while trying to lose weight, accompanied, of course, by some cabernet and for the grand finale, red velvet cake. (hey i shared it with two others, so it barely counts right???)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we ditched the one husband who came for dinner and it was off to play some pool at a local bar. when i got there, i went directly to the bathroom (the wine working on me) now i know i seem to write about my bathroom experiences quite a bit, but for some reason, weird shit happens to me in public restrooms on a regular basis....maybe i should consider a catheter or something so i don't have to use them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i go in, aand there is one stall and it is occupied...the "door" for the stall is an old western style swinging door that doesn't close all the way, thus alowing the poor souls waiting in line a free show. i notice right away that there is a bucket on the floor in front of the woman's feet and my immediate thought is oh jeebus...tell me she's not puking and shitting because if i have to watch this, i'm gonna need lots more beer and perhaps a ventilator.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, she's not puking thank goodness, it seems that this fine establishment was experiencing some roof leakage and rather than spring for a repairman, they decided to allow asbestos tainted water to freely drip down into a dirty bucket that is placed about 5 inches from where my face, and possibly more importantly, my hoohoo was about to be. but i had to go....... damnit.... i swing through the doors like the brave cowgirl and try to mentally calculate how i can hover (no way i'm touching that seat) without peeing on myself while dodging the likely poisonous drops coming down from a ceiling that looked like it was ready to cave any second now. the result was some sort of awkward squat-wiggle that looked a good bit like the drunk uncle that seems to be at every wedding i've ever been to dancing the twist during the "little bit softer now" part. the woman who just vacated the stall decided that i didn't have enough to do or concentrate on, so she stuck around to tell me her life history and how much she loved this bar. all i could do was grunt responses while i tried not to piss on myself....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after all the bathroom fun, we played a couple games of pool which i surprisingly won and then left to see "he's just not that into you"...i have to be honest...this movie sucked. it had some cute moments and some funny ones, but overall, i felt bad that my poor work hubby had wasted his cash getting me in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, that was my friday night.....tonight i'm going out with some friends again, so if i have any more bathroom drama, you can be sure that you'll all know by sunday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-3833800915485685682?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/3833800915485685682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/velvet-cakevelvet-elvis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/3833800915485685682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/3833800915485685682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/velvet-cakevelvet-elvis.html' title='velvet cake...velvet elvis...'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-337761113815300593</id><published>2009-02-23T17:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T19:37:27.692-05:00</updated><title type='text'>kingdom 'o boogers</title><content type='html'>so, the princess has been sick....my entire weekend was spent in warm jammies and surrounded by kleenex and vicks rub.    had a nasty respiratory infection that is just now backing down.  my vaporizer is my new bff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't have a really fluid blog in my head right now..more like some random shit bouncing between my ears like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. does wearing concealer to the gym even make sense?  i don't think it does, but i do it anyhow...my trainer may see me all sweaty, and may force me to bend my body in ways that should only be sexual but he CAN NOT see my zits!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. i think i may be brewing my coffee too strong....if my desperate, pedal-to-the-metal drive to work this morning wasn't enough to teach me, i don't know what will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. cadbury eggs are simply fabulous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. why does eyebrow hair seem to grow much faster than all other hair (with the exception on leg hair ofc)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. did anyone else think that the musical "numbers" at last night's oscars sucked big hairy balls or was it just me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. almonds do not taste good right after you brush your teeth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. i think i lost the last antibiotic pill i was supposed to take today....mmmm...can generic z pack pills kill a cat?  i mean, i don't know the cat did it...could be under my enormous pile of shit on the table..but just in case....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guess i'd better go to the gym where i can get all stinky,  and watch the concealer melt and ooze right off my face.  someone once told me that their 30's were the best years of their lives.  i am now wondering if that's true, or if that person's 20's just sucked really bad.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-337761113815300593?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/337761113815300593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/kindom-o-boogers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/337761113815300593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/337761113815300593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/kindom-o-boogers.html' title='kingdom &apos;o boogers'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-7662911572843576600</id><published>2009-02-17T19:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T20:01:36.167-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Sh*t!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;...so it goes a little something like this....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today, i arrived at an assignment early.  with time to spare, i decided to go potty and then grab a coffee.  so i go into the ladies' and into the middle stall.  pardon the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tmi&lt;/span&gt;, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; just going in for a quick pee (this is a good thing, as you'll see...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on my left comes the bellow of a great fart....this is followed by some bodily noises &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; glad you are spared of but that make me shiver even still....  with all the noise &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;goin&lt;/span&gt; on i look down to see her sneaker-clad foot sticking out and under the dividing wall, coming over to my side.  it literally shakes with each sound....(pleasure or pain i do not know)  all the while i hear "oh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;jesus&lt;/span&gt;!" "holy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;jesus&lt;/span&gt;!" and even a few "thank you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;jesus&lt;/span&gt;"s. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course i got out of there as quickly as possible....now, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not a religious gal, but if my god made shitting so difficult, i don't think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt; be offering thanks......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-7662911572843576600?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/7662911572843576600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/holy-sht.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/7662911572843576600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/7662911572843576600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/holy-sht.html' title='Holy Sh*t!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-579568186608373100</id><published>2009-02-16T11:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T11:25:16.084-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aren't I a grown up?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so today &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; dealing with two issues that have to do with being a grown up, although in two different ways, and one isn't really important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let's start with the silly one.....i think my face has finally hit puberty.  :-(   I had such lovely skin when i was a teen, beautiful and smooth.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; getting nailed in the ass for making it through those rough years with nice skin now.  i look like i have chicken pox...i swear.  no amount of concealer will fix this problem, a problem i admit that is worsened by my inability to leave well enough alone...i pick at my face....but seriously...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wtf&lt;/span&gt;????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;adding to the red pox-like face is my silly obsession with the peach fuzz on my face.  now i know, all folks have peach fuzzy faces, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; terrified that mine will evolve into the dreaded &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;femoustache&lt;/span&gt;...i don't want this to happen!  so i decided this morning to use a hair removal cream on my lip.....BIG MISTAKE!!!  i know have a red moustache as the shit must have peeled the first few layers of skin off my lip.   sigh...so i get to go to work looking like a chicken pox cursed soul who has a perpetual &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;kool&lt;/span&gt;-aid '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;stache&lt;/span&gt;.....hello &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;monday&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, i want to move out of this apt.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; tired of having neighbors who are bitches about the slightest bit of noise.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; wanting to paint and make a space my own....i wanna house or condo.  both have their pros and cons, i know.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not sure if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;jus&lt;/span&gt; will be willing to move or not.  he is the serious type, focused on our expenses, and thank goodness for that!  without him, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt; be a homeless person with a fab shoe collection!!  it's a scary prospect, buying a home, but it's one i think we're ready for.  so, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; hoping he and i will be able to discuss and decide.  we need to decide soon because our lease will be coming up this spring, and to move we have to give 60 days notice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well...time to go to work....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; hoping that the person doesn't show so i can hide my poor face from as many people as possible.....wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-579568186608373100?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/579568186608373100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/arent-i-grown-up.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/579568186608373100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/579568186608373100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/arent-i-grown-up.html' title='Aren&apos;t I a grown up?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-3809227895561086100</id><published>2009-02-11T20:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T20:17:18.014-05:00</updated><title type='text'>BEETS???</title><content type='html'>Ok  so, Justin decided to make dinner tonight and was in the mood for a veggie to go with the baked steak he made. (YAY for a husband who cooks!)  Anyhow, so after rooting around in the cupboard, he found some beets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SZN3r0De66I/AAAAAAAAABI/LXziDJueJtw/s1600-h/beet1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SZN3r0De66I/AAAAAAAAABI/LXziDJueJtw/s320/beet1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301712780936539042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, horror upon horror, embarrassment upon embarrassment, he (quite luckily) checks the "good by" date&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SZN4UdDz8wI/AAAAAAAAABQ/z-ooTJA84uo/s1600-h/beets2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SZN4UdDz8wI/AAAAAAAAABQ/z-ooTJA84uo/s320/beets2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301713479138538242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, yeah, that says Dec of 03!!!!!  Jeebus man!  How horrible!!!  Guess we don't eat beets all that often!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-3809227895561086100?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/3809227895561086100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/beets.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/3809227895561086100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/3809227895561086100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/beets.html' title='BEETS???'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SZN3r0De66I/AAAAAAAAABI/LXziDJueJtw/s72-c/beet1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-864305174735062859</id><published>2009-02-10T07:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T07:42:27.322-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I haven't had any crazy mishaps or bitch fits lately, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not too sure what to blog about!  i decided to join a gym so i can now go every day in addition to the twice weekly trainings &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been going to.  i really enjoy it, though i bitch, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; seeing some of the results.  i really like that a good friend also goes to this gym and is willing to go with me.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been asking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;justin&lt;/span&gt; to go only to go, but he doesn't want to.  he keeps pointing out that we have a treadmill here.  he's right, we do, but i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;am a&lt;/span&gt; social person it seems, and i would rather workout with others.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; thinking about joining a yoga class, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; never taken yoga and am a bit intimidated by it.  anyone have any experience here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also in midterms week.  i can not wait to be done with school.  if all pans out according to plan, i should be done this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;june&lt;/span&gt;.  i have my fingers crossed.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; tired of homework!  i was hoping for a raise upon graduation, but with the economy being as it is, i don't know if that will happen.  i guess i should just be thankful that i have a job right now.  well, make that 2 jobs, but you know what i mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, so...like i said a quite boring, no cursing involved, kind of blog.  just a hi and a quick update on what's been going on.  maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; have something more exciting to talk about soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-864305174735062859?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/864305174735062859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-havent-had-any-crazy-mishaps-or-bitch.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/864305174735062859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/864305174735062859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-havent-had-any-crazy-mishaps-or-bitch.html' title=''/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-6712808664393474108</id><published>2009-02-05T15:22:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T15:44:58.912-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cat antics</title><content type='html'>We have two gigantic cats.  Now, even though these two are litter mates, they are night and day when it comes to their &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYtLpAHCauI/AAAAAAAAAAw/Sgq_s6tMk3o/s1600-h/luke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 117px; height: 87px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYtLpAHCauI/AAAAAAAAAAw/Sgq_s6tMk3o/s320/luke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299412554307758818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;personalities.  We have Luke:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke is laid back(as you can see) and loves to be around people.  He will let me hold him like a baby and can almost always be found in the same room as me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also have Leia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYtNQMlP2TI/AAAAAAAAABA/yS0gmgaur-o/s1600-h/leia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 97px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYtNQMlP2TI/AAAAAAAAABA/yS0gmgaur-o/s320/leia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299414327182219570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Leia is more of a you-can-touch-me-when-i-say-you-can kind of girl.  She is the cat who wakes us up in the morning when it's time for breakfast.  Luke just drags the bowl down the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO, this past Sunday morning, justin and i were wanting to be lazy and were awake but just chilling in bed.  Leia was all up in our faces (mine especially) and she started headbutting me relentlessly.  She needed food damnit!  i decided, in my infinite wisdom to scoop her up and snuggle her because this tactic had worked before.  she normally gets a wee bit ticked, squirms her way out of my grasp and run away.  this is exactly the result i was looking for.  so i grab her and start kissing on her and loving on her.  sure enough, the squirming began and when i let go, she bolted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then justin says , "what the hell is that?" and points to the mattress right between our faces (man is blind without his glasses).  "that" was a small piece of cat shit!  that huffy fur ball literally shit out of protest!  justin says i squeezed the poo out of her, but i didn't really squeeze her...so i know now that we have 2 sassy princesses living here...only i don't poo to show my displeasure...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-6712808664393474108?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/6712808664393474108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/cat-antics.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/6712808664393474108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/6712808664393474108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/cat-antics.html' title='cat antics'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYtLpAHCauI/AAAAAAAAAAw/Sgq_s6tMk3o/s72-c/luke.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-1946842363728518644</id><published>2009-02-04T17:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T17:36:06.849-05:00</updated><title type='text'>seriously???</title><content type='html'>OK so let me tell you why i say i'm not a princess...today has been chock full of examples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home from work today, this is what i looked like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-hair a stringy, needs-a-good-brushing mess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- something green between my teeth, probably from lunch (whatever happened to those honest friends who would tell a girl an important thing like this???)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-a booger peeking out of my right nostril...not far..but enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-my bright blue undies sticking out of the back of my waistband&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked like a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; special girl who had tried her best to pull off being cute and fell very short of the mark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, to top it all off, i have to go to the gym in a few minutes for a weigh in.  This means my trainer will also measure different parts of my body including my calves...which i am just realizing are very hairy and marked (seemingly for life) with indentations from the mid-calf length socks i wore all day (hey- it's freaking winter time....function over fashion)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the living version of not only "what not to wear" but the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cosmo&lt;/span&gt; embarrassing stories all wrapped up into one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;boogery&lt;/span&gt;, lumpy and furry package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me while I go shave my legs....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-1946842363728518644?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/1946842363728518644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/seriously.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1946842363728518644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/1946842363728518644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/seriously.html' title='seriously???'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-4362545773590500972</id><published>2009-02-04T07:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T07:09:15.117-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I must be Mormon ya'll!</title><content type='html'>If this article has any truth to it, I can say I have 2 spouses.....jeez!  One is hard enough to deal with!  lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/worklife/11/10/cb.seven.signs.work.spouse/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-4362545773590500972?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/4362545773590500972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-must-be-mormon-yall.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/4362545773590500972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/4362545773590500972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-must-be-mormon-yall.html' title='I must be Mormon ya&apos;ll!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6544575642845725222.post-8075568897629029320</id><published>2009-02-03T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:54:13.772-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SuperCuts ain't so super.....</title><content type='html'>I've decided to give blogging a shot.  I realize that I'm slow to catch this trend....I'm not too sure if I'll have enough interesting things to say!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me start by recounting something that happened to me the other day and I'm sure you'll see why I've named my blog what I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after work last Friday, I decided to quickly stop by a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SuperCuts&lt;/span&gt; to get my hair trimmed before a birthday dinner for a friend.  I don't normally go to places like this for haircuts, but all I needed was a trim, so I didn't see the harm.  So I go in and this lady is standing at the register and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dialogue&lt;/span&gt; goes like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: Hi, I'd like a trim please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lady: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, what's your name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: Oh I'm not in your system.  I've never been here before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lady: I don't know how to cut your hair if you're not in the system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me (thinking): Scissors would be a good start.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we start off on the wrong foot.  Someone else had to come over to help the dingbat and soon I found myself in her chair. *gulp*  I explain that I'd like a trim and my bangs shortened.  (Pretty simple)  She trims the hair and moves on to the bangs.  She cuts them so that they still cover my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: I can't see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady:  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;mmmm&lt;/span&gt; I don't know how to fix that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: cut them SHORTER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, she cuts them to a good length.  Now, before I got the bangs, my hair was parted down the middle and now the new bangs were parting. I mention this and she informs me that she doesn't know how to fix it either. GRRRRRR!   Now, this is important...she asked me in the beginning if I'd like my hair washed and I said no because I had a dinner to go to.  She used the spray bottle and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;wetted&lt;/span&gt; my hair for the trim.  So she whips out her trusty hair dryer to dry the bangs.  She then grabs her round brush and proceeds to give me what I call turd bangs.  Remember the 80's style bangs that curled under resembling a large turd on one's forehead????  Yup...turd bangs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I freak out and ask what in the hell she thinks she's doing.  She tells me she thinks they look pretty and continues to blow dry my semi-wet hair which promptly frizzes.  I really get worked up at this point and jump out of the chair to make her stop the madness.  So now I have turd bangs and the ginormous frizzy hair to match....oh yeah, and dinner in about 45 minutes.  I tell her to just get the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;straight&lt;/span&gt; iron out and fix what she's done.  She informs me that she can do that BUT IT WILL COST 20 DOLLARS MORE!!!!!  Hello people this is a $13 haircut.  I am livid.....I tell her that she screwed up my hair and she needs to fix it for free.  she keeps insisting that it's 20 dollars more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I yell at her to "get your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;F'ing&lt;/span&gt; hands off of me!" and race towards the door.  I pay my check and announce to her in front of everyone that she's not getting a tip and why.  I then leave in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;desperate&lt;/span&gt; search for some kind of help.  Luckily, I went to a Beauty First store across the street where a very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;sweet&lt;/span&gt; girl helped me out.  She let me use a demo straight iron to fix the mess.  TURD BANGS BE GONE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6544575642845725222-8075568897629029320?l=sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/feeds/8075568897629029320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/supercuts-aint-so-super.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/8075568897629029320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6544575642845725222/posts/default/8075568897629029320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassyprincess-christy.blogspot.com/2009/02/supercuts-aint-so-super.html' title='SuperCuts ain&apos;t so super.....'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12737124741791682293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Khgps8RqRmI/SYkLuVJvblI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Q2871zglA0Y/S220/m_97e34b1cc20238096b97339066d0f303.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
