<?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-2586500918986949091</id><updated>2012-01-27T05:53:54.270-05:00</updated><category term='moving'/><category term='dad'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='movies'/><category term='weight loss'/><category term='muffin'/><category term='Music'/><category term='random'/><category term='gym'/><category term='parenting'/><category term='hurricanes'/><category term='birth'/><category term='Breastfeeding'/><category term='art'/><category term='hair'/><category term='Baby pics'/><category term='decorating'/><category term='NY'/><category term='sleep'/><category term='Lurking'/><category term='Life'/><category term='florida'/><category term='General'/><category term='baby'/><category term='Sex'/><category term='family'/><category term='brithday'/><category term='video'/><category term='design'/><category term='skyzi eyes'/><category term='tv'/><category term='sick'/><category term='Misc.'/><category term='health'/><category term='alabama'/><category term='Mom'/><category term='weight'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>Skyzi</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>124</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-3993542341269913750</id><published>2008-12-03T09:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T10:13:57.337-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Guardian Angels</title><content type='html'>My sister is away at school getting her masters in education in North Carolina and lives with four people in a lovely older home with wooden floors, sticky doors and a nice neighborhood feel. Last week while in her room (which is up a &lt;strong&gt;narrow&lt;/strong&gt; staircase)she heard what she thoughts was one of her roommates trying to get in the front door. She went downstairs, called their names, opened the front door to find no one there. She went back to her room. Shortly after a man opened her bedroom door on his hands and knees and started crawling in. She screamed, he ran out, she ran out of the house and called the police.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a couple nights of having people sleep on her floor, sleeping at people's houses, using mild sedatives she is fine. Her stocking will be stuffed with pepper spray and a lovely tazer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dropping the ex at the airport on Monday in an uncharacteristically brief good bye the baby and I quickly got on the highway to head back home. While looking in my side mirror I saw the car two cars back fly up into the median, take flight, flip on its side and hit the ground back onto its wheels. Ten cars then scattered to avoid hitting the wall and the car. Then there were no more cars around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Tuesday I officially got my new shiny label as "divorcee". It is not a cool club, or a club I ever wanted to be a part of but damn its a big one ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I had my arms up to the elbow between an animals skin and meat I realized how much I was looking forward to the holiday season. I am ready to shed this past year, sing some cheesy yet comforting songs, string some lights and enjoy my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am blessed beyond belief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/STahhq2bYSI/AAAAAAAAAJY/jefij_QfkkQ/s1600-h/n1098982294_30199063_9764.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/STahhq2bYSI/AAAAAAAAAJY/jefij_QfkkQ/s320/n1098982294_30199063_9764.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275581613321445666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-3993542341269913750?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3993542341269913750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=3993542341269913750' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3993542341269913750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3993542341269913750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/12/guardian-angels.html' title='Guardian Angels'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/STahhq2bYSI/AAAAAAAAAJY/jefij_QfkkQ/s72-c/n1098982294_30199063_9764.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5445553365635869245</id><published>2008-11-12T14:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T14:08:48.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not the veterans day I expected</title><content type='html'>While speaking with my favorite veteran yesterday and listening to him rehash some of his time there we some how got into his different jobs and the following job title came up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meat gazer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you think this job entailed??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5445553365635869245?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5445553365635869245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5445553365635869245' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5445553365635869245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5445553365635869245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/11/not-veterans-day-i-expected.html' title='Not the veterans day I expected'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7271779686144360521</id><published>2008-10-31T12:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T12:10:14.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Halloween!</title><content type='html'>Have fun, eat candy, throw some pumpkins or carve them, look out for the little bastards throwing eggs and let the inner skank/ child come out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SQs7lma_CFI/AAAAAAAAAJI/-gRw8qZVu2U/s1600-h/s1098982294_30157612_312.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 97px; height: 130px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SQs7lma_CFI/AAAAAAAAAJI/-gRw8qZVu2U/s320/s1098982294_30157612_312.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263366106667485266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SQs7sZZzWgI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/GcYado1lBVg/s1600-h/s1098982294_30157604_2916.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 97px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SQs7sZZzWgI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/GcYado1lBVg/s320/s1098982294_30157604_2916.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263366223431948802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7271779686144360521?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7271779686144360521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7271779686144360521' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7271779686144360521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7271779686144360521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/10/happy-halloween.html' title='Happy Halloween!'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SQs7lma_CFI/AAAAAAAAAJI/-gRw8qZVu2U/s72-c/s1098982294_30157612_312.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-6820211628369149633</id><published>2008-10-30T08:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T08:25:20.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Voting issues</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to wrap my mind around the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"young" gay male in the lower middle class who doesn't think the government should have anything to do with the abortion debate votes for McCain???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-6820211628369149633?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6820211628369149633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=6820211628369149633' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6820211628369149633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6820211628369149633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/10/voting-issues.html' title='Voting issues'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-775409031391451903</id><published>2008-10-23T07:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T07:40:44.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This collar itches</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I was on the phone with a candidate for a position that I have open and we were chit chatting. Because it was late in the day, I was OK with hearing his life story, hearing his spin on the market and a whole lot more blah, blah, blah. In conversation and his discussion of the south it did come up that I had spent some time in Alabama. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J*: "How the hell did a nice girl from NY (he is in NY) go from Miami to Alabama?"&lt;br /&gt;S: "My husband got a job there"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;J: "Ohhhhhh, he put the leash back on you and pulled (chuckle, chuckle). That makes sense now!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: "..........(the only sound was my brain oozing out of my ears after my head exploded)"&lt;br /&gt;J: "When you come into town you should let me take you out for some drinks"&lt;br /&gt;S: ".........."&lt;br /&gt;J: "When are you coming?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*J stands for big old jackass!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-775409031391451903?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/775409031391451903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=775409031391451903' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/775409031391451903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/775409031391451903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-collar-itches.html' title='This collar itches'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7365474371080762575</id><published>2008-10-17T13:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T13:45:43.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I generally don't talk politics, because it gets heated and I've seen way too many Dr. Jekyll/ Mr. Hyde moments to willingly walk into it but after reading &lt;a href="http://www.notyetawino.com"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; I am all fired up (in a good way). This is the first week I have actually started to voice my opinion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My take on voting and family/ friends is that I don't mind who you vote for as long as you have &lt;strong&gt;very&lt;/strong&gt; clear reasons why you are picking one candidate over the other. Because, is NOT a reason. If you are not ready to talk about it, don't f-in ask me who I am voting for. If you need to spend 45 minutes digging into your purse to find your list of reasons maybe you need to pick issues that are a little closer to your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent 15 minutes schooling my brother that at the ripe old age of 19 he is no longer aloud to just go along with who my dad is voting for. He started to prattle off "reasons" which consisted of telling me that one party doesn't do charity work???? Really???? So we had it out and then he went online to look at what I was talking about and I was proud of him for at least wanting to learn and be informed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I asked why my mother was voting for a certain party she looked at me, made a funny face, paused and then said their stance on partial birth abortion. Because I know her and because I know what her actual day to day issues are I questioned her. (I am not making light of that issue) With all the things she is struggling with like inadequate health care, college for my brother, school for my daughter (like the fact that I can't send her because I don't have the money), lack of resources etc. and the fact that I have never heard her discuss this issue except during an election year I couldn't believe that is her supposed make or break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure more of this will leak out in the future but these times....they are crazy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7365474371080762575?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7365474371080762575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7365474371080762575' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7365474371080762575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7365474371080762575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-generally-dont-talk-politics-because.html' title=''/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8788107126311890185</id><published>2008-10-13T13:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T13:17:37.898-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hell has frozen over and pigs are flying</title><content type='html'>In recent months after separating from the husband and moving back to Miami I have been hanging out with my mom....a lot. I am enjoying our relationship on a level that we have never experienced before. A side effect has been that on a daily basis I catch myself sounding/doing something just like her and for the first time in my life I can say that it's not a bad thing. In fact it may be the best parts of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8788107126311890185?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8788107126311890185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8788107126311890185' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8788107126311890185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8788107126311890185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/10/hell-has-frozen-over-and-pigs-are.html' title='Hell has frozen over and pigs are flying'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1991549075665542684</id><published>2008-10-10T07:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T07:47:31.229-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Channel surfing</title><content type='html'>When there is nothing on tv I am a supreme channel surfer (it's fine, judge me).  Last night I'm scrolling through the Learning Channel, Discovery Channel, some animal shows....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What a beautiful bitch"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I totally understand they are talking about the dog but it still caught me off guard and made me laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1991549075665542684?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1991549075665542684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1991549075665542684' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1991549075665542684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1991549075665542684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/10/channel-surfing.html' title='Channel surfing'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5939589113244627894</id><published>2008-10-08T09:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T09:19:31.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Me=realizing you are gay.</title><content type='html'>Facebook is a lovely thing, it is nice to reconnect with old faces, keep people updated etc. Facebook has also been the way for me to realize that out of six people that I made out with in high school &lt;strong&gt;four&lt;/strong&gt; of them are now gay, and the other two I don't keep in touch with. This includes the boy I first full on made out with, the first boy I discussed sex with....OMG....when I told him I wouldn't be sleeping with him he totally told me it was fine.....that I should love the person....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really trying not to over analyze this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5939589113244627894?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5939589113244627894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5939589113244627894' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5939589113244627894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5939589113244627894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/10/merealizing-you-are-gay.html' title='Me=realizing you are gay.'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-2095383411745825512</id><published>2008-09-25T07:36:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T07:44:51.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2 year old muffin</title><content type='html'>She has been amazing me for two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SNuG5NlrsfI/AAAAAAAAAHM/g5u0_DOc00I/s1600-h/2810275382_bf8e3b17f5_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SNuG5NlrsfI/AAAAAAAAAHM/g5u0_DOc00I/s320/2810275382_bf8e3b17f5_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249938108088824306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SNuGtUhg6HI/AAAAAAAAAHE/jMRMvomi3_s/s1600-h/2810275226_0d627ed047_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SNuGtUhg6HI/AAAAAAAAAHE/jMRMvomi3_s/s320/2810275226_0d627ed047_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249937903791958130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SNuGlGNKQuI/AAAAAAAAAG8/VdQ4ize3jRE/s1600-h/2810274202_b39957be3d_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SNuGlGNKQuI/AAAAAAAAAG8/VdQ4ize3jRE/s320/2810274202_b39957be3d_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249937762509538018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More emotional commentary to follow.  My baby is a big girl!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-2095383411745825512?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2095383411745825512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=2095383411745825512' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2095383411745825512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2095383411745825512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/09/2-year-old-muffin.html' title='2 year old muffin'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SNuG5NlrsfI/AAAAAAAAAHM/g5u0_DOc00I/s72-c/2810275382_bf8e3b17f5_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-3027699139092538870</id><published>2008-09-18T14:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T14:58:56.962-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that make me laugh</title><content type='html'>I just spent about a half an hour trying to load pictures of a waffle house wedding that is priceless, but I can't figure out how to load pdf file and save images and load it etc.  So instead I will have to laugh to myself.  Not so funny to you, but very funny to me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me just say there are pictures of rings in waffles, brides smoking and working behind the counter (in the white dress and everything) and guests seated on those awesome orange pleather seats or the ever present milk crate in the parking lot.  That is quite the commitment to the work place people.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to work I saw a lawn company truck the read in BIG letters "GOT GRASS".  I don't know why but I chuckled to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday as I was changing my shirt my daughter looks up and points and says "momma, hair pits".  It may be time for me to shave my arm pits.  Just maybe.  The sad part is I don't want to because I think it is hysterical, and she will doing anything to "touch, momma, touch".  Right now I have the power of the pit and I don't want to lose it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muahahahahahahaha Pit Power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Sad.........you know its funny.........no I will not raise my hand......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-3027699139092538870?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3027699139092538870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=3027699139092538870' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3027699139092538870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3027699139092538870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/09/things-that-make-me-laugh.html' title='Things that make me laugh'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7785716469204530626</id><published>2008-09-11T07:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T07:51:20.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>High &amp; Lo*</title><content type='html'>Yesterday evening I had the chance to catch up with a friend from college and she mentioned that while she enjoyed reading the blog it seemed to be on the negative side. What do I say to that besides the obvious rationalization? So I thought I should mention a couple things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I write this blog at work. When I get home I refuse to touch a computer and generally a phone so I may be reflecting my environment and general 9-5 mood. I also tend to write when I am all rilled up. I think writing may be a tad more therapeutic then choking various members of the general public (and I swear if my ex uses this sentence to attempt to show that I am a violent person I will give him the evil eye for the next 30 years) and being reduced to a puddle of goo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In recent months this blog has become a forum for me to bitch and moan with a sampling of sexually repressed anecdotes. I pride myself on being as vocal in person as what I write on the page but seriously.......if another person talks to me about &lt;a href="http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/tmi-my-posting-has-come-to-this.html"&gt;the hand cramping incident&lt;/a&gt; I may have to crawl under a rock and die. Do you really want to ruin THAT for me?? I kid. Kind of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry bloggy and real life friends. I continue to have joy in my life each and everyday and always see the humor. A lot of this stuff sucks, but it is also really funny. Because if you don't laugh you cry and I look just awful crying! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family and friends are like no others. They lift me up and remind me of who I am and who I can be. Because of all the different paths that you have taken I see what is out there and see that happiness and joy come in different packages.  You guys ROCK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Hel-lo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7785716469204530626?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7785716469204530626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7785716469204530626' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7785716469204530626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7785716469204530626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/09/high-lo.html' title='High &amp; Lo*'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1375183004107503977</id><published>2008-09-08T13:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T13:54:17.268-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Revisiting the quarter life crisis</title><content type='html'>I was going to right some post about how I am a fool for not getting enough sleep, exercise, etc and the hurricane is/is not coming AKA "whine, bitch and moan" and then I received a fax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although this fax was certainly not meant for me or anyone in my office it did an amazing job of giving me that little piece of clarity that I needed for today.  It was all the paperwork for a woman's headstone.  Two sentences where her daughters expressed how they felt.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In two sentences I can't even express my simplest of thoughts, how would I ever be able to summarize what someone means to me.  Then there is that ever present question of how I want to be remembered.....damn....I want people to remember me being so much more than I am now.  I need to do something so much greater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even before the fax arrived I have been struggling with the question of purpose.  I have a lot to offer humanity but right now I am giving nothing.  I am trying to be a good mother, daughter and friend but I think I can do more.  I am standing on two feet as opposed to being in an emotional ditch because I have support around me.  Wouldn't it be great if I could be that support for children, teen mothers or another group where I have relatability?  Why can't compensation be in alignment with a sound mission and passion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like my time is ticking/ wasting each day and I'm sick of it.  I need to be able to provide for my family but on some level I know I can make "a difference" (not to sound like a big giant cliche) and I stop myself because I feel like the economics of it won't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much life to live but right now I'm not living it to it's full extent (or even a quarter of it).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1375183004107503977?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1375183004107503977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1375183004107503977' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1375183004107503977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1375183004107503977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/09/revisiting-quarter-life-crisis.html' title='Revisiting the quarter life crisis'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-2237205385022097408</id><published>2008-08-26T14:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T14:38:33.665-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holding the Chuppah</title><content type='html'>Smerm and Jerm were married this weekend and I held the Chuppah. This was the most amazing wedding ever. The weather was perfect in the CT/NY mountains, there was no cell phone reception (awesome (and I am being sincere)), the evenings were crisp and I was with my best friends from high school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like being at summer camp except without all the awkward teenage moments. Now we were all cool kids and one of us was getting married, one of us had a kid, one of us was starting out as an amazing artist (what up Jew- yah) and we all got to celebrate the marriage of two people who actually belong together....who glow because they have each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This glow has eaten my brain apparently and now I'm all mushy. I seriously have to get on this finding my soul mate.....right as soon as I finish divorcing my last "soul mate".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wedding was a true blend of both of them and a reflection of all that they are. I thought Latins were the dancing kings but I was wrong, it is Jewish men that have the moves. The history that was involved in the songs, the service, the dancing it reminded me of how much I wanted to be a Jew in high school and why it still appeals (thank God my mom doesn't read this because right now she would have had a stroke and I would have to be praying to the sweet baby Jesus for her to recover).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am recovering from a happy hang over and saying hi to all my high school friends (what up Brbs) and missing them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-2237205385022097408?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2237205385022097408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=2237205385022097408' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2237205385022097408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2237205385022097408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/08/holding-chuppah.html' title='Holding the Chuppah'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8157973889863522412</id><published>2008-08-12T13:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T14:02:05.699-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Purple Hair</title><content type='html'>I'm currently mulling a lot of things over.  Big things, change my life things.  So in my classic style I disappear from the blogosphere, which is a shame because so much fun stuff happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I rescued ducklings from a storm drain by holding my sister by the ankles while yelling that I was going to drop her.  I have not laughed that hard in years.&lt;br /&gt;-I went out. On the town. At night.  (I even wore real clothing!)&lt;br /&gt;-We went to the most awesome children's museum.&lt;br /&gt;-I'm talking to "people" from my past who I've missed for too long.&lt;br /&gt;-I dyed my hair purple just in time to be a bridesmaid.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I need to make sure you people are paying attention.  If you didn't know, I have never dyed my hair.  I'm waiting for the grey!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8157973889863522412?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8157973889863522412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8157973889863522412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8157973889863522412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8157973889863522412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/08/purple-hair.html' title='Purple Hair'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-788360206226133468</id><published>2008-08-05T07:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T07:31:17.891-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When are you too old for a booty call?</title><content type='html'>This morning after waking up at my usual (not nice) time I looked at my phone and saw I had a text.  That is not unusual except that once again it was quite early.  I opened the phone and saw who it was from (a former on again off again male "friend").  I also happened to notice that it came in at 3:45 am.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so old now that:&lt;br /&gt;a. I consider that an early morning text as opposed to a late night next.&lt;br /&gt;b. I didn't even wake up when the text came in because I was passed out (and not from drinking).&lt;br /&gt;c. I was outraged that he would send the message at that hour and expect me to respond.&lt;br /&gt;d. I was intrigued that this boy was thinking about me at that hour of the morning/evening.&lt;br /&gt;e. I have this amount of time an energy to dedicate to a text that said "Hey" but have four week old nail polish on my toes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-788360206226133468?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/788360206226133468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=788360206226133468' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/788360206226133468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/788360206226133468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/08/when-are-you-too-old-for-booty-call.html' title='When are you too old for a booty call?'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1962315125623413088</id><published>2008-08-01T07:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T08:11:26.193-05:00</updated><title type='text'>He says I'll never find it</title><content type='html'>Recently the ex has been asking all sorts of loaded questions and making the same types of statements. For example:&lt;br /&gt;-Do you think I'm a bad father?&lt;br /&gt;-What do you need from a man?&lt;br /&gt;-You know that I didn't mean to hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;-I'm not the same man.&lt;br /&gt;-You're my best friend, do you think of me the same way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you didn't know, by nature I am not an angry or confrontational person. If I think a statement is going to hurt your feelings I will keep it to myself. Do not confuse this with not having an opinion. If you specifically ask me what I think, I WILL tell you. I don't sugar coat things if I think you can handle it or if you provoke me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after weeks and months and years of listening to him whine, holding my tongue it all bubbled up and out. (Here begins the rant, feel free to skip the following) I will be there for you but I will not put you before my daughter and I. Been there done that not doing it again. If you ask if I think you are a shitty dad......I told you not to ask questions you don't want the answer to. You would literally murder a man if he did things to your daughter that you did to me. DO NOT mistake my tears with wanting to get back together with you. These are tears of frustration, anger and heart break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you could be the man that I need but at this stage in the game I can't compromise. I have too much at stake. I have this beautiful little girl who is going to think it is ok to be with someone who doesn't make her happy. That is the message I somehow learned from my mom and I'm NOT going to have her repeat this bullshit cycle again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you ask me what I need and I reply that I need someone who has faith, who knows there is something larger than them, someone who can provide for his family (not just with money but emotionally), someone who can be my rock (because I am SOOOOOOooooo tired of being the "stable" one) and you laugh, not a good move. Don't tell me that my expectations are too high and that is never going to happen. I know that &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt; are not this person, that you don't have that strength but I have no doubt that he is out there (because I've seen it before), and if I don't find those things that's ok, I have to learn how to be by myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not friends. I listen and you always talk, and it is because I'm a bleeding heart and I feel bad for you, but every time this shit happens it makes it easier for me not to pick up the phone. At this point you don't know anything about me..... and the fact that you are so eager to throw details of my life in my face (that have nothing to do with anything) show how little you have changed. Am I still afraid that you are going to kill me......no, but is that really the bar that you are striving for. (RANT END)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, he is coming in to town tomorrow to "spend quality time" with his daughter. While I want to just go off on his ass it is not going to make this weekend go any faster. I'm going to smile, like I always do....(imagine the most fake smile you have ever seen plastered on my face)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1962315125623413088?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1962315125623413088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1962315125623413088' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1962315125623413088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1962315125623413088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/08/he-says-ill-never-find-it.html' title='He says I&apos;ll never find it'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-6246648050356389196</id><published>2008-07-29T14:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T14:20:44.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not telling</title><content type='html'>Now that I am more in tune with my posting and back to posting mayyyyyybe once a week, I am once again tempted to tell certain friends about the blog (or in many cases remind them again). Seeing as I have resorted to posting about farting and my lack of sex I don't know if I need to draw attention to myself....but really, as my friends they already know the above facts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may keep it to myself because I have a feeling one of them is going to piss me off in the near future and if I know they are reading I don't want to go all passive aggressive on their ass! Plus I have no time to talk on the phone because I discovered &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/Skyzi"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-6246648050356389196?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6246648050356389196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=6246648050356389196' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6246648050356389196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6246648050356389196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-not-telling.html' title='I&apos;m not telling'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-9015203114045979678</id><published>2008-07-28T14:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T14:33:46.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'>BHM</title><content type='html'>I just farted (in the bathroom) and I swear it smelled like cigarettes.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-9015203114045979678?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/9015203114045979678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=9015203114045979678' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9015203114045979678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9015203114045979678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/bhm_28.html' title='BHM'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-3305904225899557696</id><published>2008-07-25T14:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T14:53:21.417-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My version of Best Week Ever</title><content type='html'>I have been posting in my head quite regularly but on here not so much. So a hodge podge of "events" are all waiting to be written down. So here is what has been happening:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-In an effort to clean and purge I went through a lot of things that I have saved for memory. I sorted through pictures of prom, junior prom, soccer, flute, guitar and piano (I was totally over committed)and cracked myself up with the visual tragedy that was my wardrobe. I also came across my grandfathers (on my mom's side) suicide note. I had that buried so deep in my memory that it shocked the shit out of me. I found this probably about 10 years ago when going into his things and I took it so my mom would never see it. It was his note of how he had started having pains, he was scared so on such and such a date he was going to swallow a lot of pills. Then there is a ps of how he was going to wait a day because the weather was bad. Then there is a final entry of how he was still alive even after taking the pills. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He died in hospice care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I received a call from an ex boyfriend yesterday (the boyfriend before the ex husband) and his first question was "you want a white picket fence in your yard right?" Then he told me he was writing a book about his life and that I was in it. He wants me to read it and give my honest opinion.......this is also a boyfriend who broke up with me.....over the phone.....we had our children's names picked out....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-In the past two weeks the office building that I work in has been filled with cameras. Burn Notice was filming and then some movie where I recognized no one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an intelligent woman I know that television/media does not reflect an accurate picture of the general public but seeing it in the flesh was almost funny. The "normal business people" walking around the building and in the courtyards were the best looking people I have seen in ages. As part of the general public (at least in Miami) let me tell you, if someone doesn't have flip flops, another one doesn't have camel toe and another one doesn't have a sun burn, it IS NOT accurate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you see a woman exit an elevator yakking on the phone looking embarrassed and ridiculously under dressed on Burn Notice, you have just seen the author of this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-3305904225899557696?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3305904225899557696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=3305904225899557696' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3305904225899557696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3305904225899557696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-version-of-best-week-ever.html' title='My version of Best Week Ever'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8014541358314586452</id><published>2008-07-15T15:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T15:06:15.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain Hack</title><content type='html'>I share because I shouldn't be the only person to suffer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6-4VOLeKBOw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6-4VOLeKBOw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This damn song has been in my head for DAYS!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8014541358314586452?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8014541358314586452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8014541358314586452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8014541358314586452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8014541358314586452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/brain-hack.html' title='Brain Hack'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-6650496852743009349</id><published>2008-07-14T09:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T09:30:18.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How to properly attend an outdoor concert with chances of rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Do:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bring a light weight poncho, just in case&lt;br /&gt;-Bring a towel to sit on when you get back in the car (swamp ass is never cute!)&lt;br /&gt;-Wear non slip fast drying shoes&lt;br /&gt;-Be prepared to smack that bitch up when she pokes you in the face with her friggin umbrella for the 1,000th time&lt;br /&gt;-Make sure you are not wearing a face cream/suntan lotion that makes your eyes burrrrrrrn when the rain pushes it into your eyes&lt;br /&gt;-Attend the concert with someone wearing multiple layers on the off chance that they can dry your glasses on a dry layer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Wear white&lt;br /&gt;-Wear a white shirt with a sheer white bra&lt;br /&gt;-Walk near the beer stations (melting ice+a slope=falling on your ass)&lt;br /&gt;-Let the water dripping from your hair, nose, glasses drip onto your underwear when you are squatting to take a piss&lt;br /&gt;-Take a piss in front of someones car thinking that the rain will "hide" you unless you want me to see your ass, take pictures, honk my horn and flash my lights at you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wraps up this weeks public service announcement. As a side note, I totally had a great time and yes, my ass is still wet!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-6650496852743009349?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6650496852743009349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=6650496852743009349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6650496852743009349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6650496852743009349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-to-properly-attend-outdoor-concert.html' title='How to properly attend an outdoor concert with chances of rain'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-4129156659559159923</id><published>2008-07-11T13:54:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T14:03:49.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Muffin Mania</title><content type='html'>The dichotomy in my writing here from "new mom" to crazy soon to be divorced over sexed lady is too funny (not so much funny ha, ha as funny queer). So before I delete all the pics and remove any shred of connection to the identifiable me I though I would share the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SHetJfHyrJI/AAAAAAAAAGY/e_7ZjSSHtZo/s1600-h/501452622_a3ac4d72dd_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SHetJfHyrJI/AAAAAAAAAGY/e_7ZjSSHtZo/s320/501452622_a3ac4d72dd_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221832671443987602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did this dark haired little blob become&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SHetl34-spI/AAAAAAAAAGg/2fd2wvTWR-4/s1600-h/501454900_eff9dc421f_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SHetl34-spI/AAAAAAAAAGg/2fd2wvTWR-4/s320/501454900_eff9dc421f_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221833159129084562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cute little sitting up muffin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SHetmF9NcSI/AAAAAAAAAGo/bkbzMNkETII/s1600-h/n782160787_3035473_5554.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SHetmF9NcSI/AAAAAAAAAGo/bkbzMNkETII/s320/n782160787_3035473_5554.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221833162904924450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to this blond long haired little girl?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-4129156659559159923?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4129156659559159923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=4129156659559159923' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4129156659559159923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4129156659559159923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/muffin-mania.html' title='Muffin Mania'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SHetJfHyrJI/AAAAAAAAAGY/e_7ZjSSHtZo/s72-c/501452622_a3ac4d72dd_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1121551322609880951</id><published>2008-07-10T14:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T14:31:37.857-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TMI- my posting has come to this!</title><content type='html'>How sad is it when on one of my premiere a.m. (after marriage) "solo expeditions"* I have to stop because my hand is cramping too much.  Am I so out of shape I need to stretch before that??  It is also sad that as soon as I decided it was all a no go I began to compose a very funny blog post.....damn that post was good (why is it always better in my head??)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Someone please tell me what else to call this besides the technical term.  When it comes to certain words and phrases I suddenly become a Puritanical fool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1121551322609880951?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1121551322609880951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1121551322609880951' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1121551322609880951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1121551322609880951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/tmi-my-posting-has-come-to-this.html' title='TMI- my posting has come to this!'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-2796634345713320037</id><published>2008-07-07T13:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T13:47:47.918-05:00</updated><title type='text'>BHM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://mrs.flinger.us"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3130/2394484739_8a1ed73b65_m.jpg" alt="Brutally Honest Mondays” border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spend more time not working than working (at work). &lt;br /&gt;I am constantly complaining about work yet doing very little to change it.&lt;br /&gt;I could be happy in my current position.&lt;br /&gt;I need to pull my head out of my ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I saw The Secret. While some of it is a little mystical for me, most of it was spot on. I spend so much of my time and energy dwelling on the negative and the bad in my life that I am attracting the negative. Bad Out=Bad In. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In recent days I have really tried to focus on the positive, the beautiful and to be grateful. I have spent time asking myself what I really want in life and letting myself know that it is ok to want those things (a house, positive relationship, money in the bank, etc.) In this short period of time I have noticed a shift.  Not to sound all crazy but this morning when I called three different companies for various bills I owed, one told me I no longer had to pay $196, one said they owed me money and the last one said my bill would be $15 less than my statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be brutally honest....I am the only one standing my way. I could have it all! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-2796634345713320037?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2796634345713320037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=2796634345713320037' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2796634345713320037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2796634345713320037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/bhm.html' title='BHM'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3130/2394484739_8a1ed73b65_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1086308074862067669</id><published>2008-07-03T12:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T12:30:08.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 4th!</title><content type='html'>After reading &lt;a href="http://flackandproud.blogspot.com/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; entry I am brought back to many a 4th of July past. Really it is a lot of sitting on a blanket, watching the fireworks (recently with a beverage in hand) and enjoying some nice weather. This 4th I am actually making the trek to see the ex so he can see the baby (this of course has nothing to do with the last post ;).......and my mind wanders......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywhoo, the 4th, yeah.....the most memorable for me was back in the mid 90's when as a family we would come down to Miami to visit the grandparents. This was before I lived here, before I was an official "Hispanic" and when I was very happy living in my happy little white suburb in the north east. So when we went to a major fireworks display downtown with people setting off their own personal fireworks display (soooo illegal in NY) it was a bit of shock. When a group of large Hispanic men set off a fireworks display that almost resulted in my little brother (5 at the time) losing the left side of his body I saw my dad LOSE HIS SHIT! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first and only time I have seen my dad this angry. So angry in fact that his lifetime of garbled Spanish came flooding forward in an angry display of what I now interpret as a basic "What the FUCK! You almost killed my kid"! When these men proceeded to not appologize, puff up and step on our blankets it was the nail in the coffin. With my sister and brother crying, my mom telling my father to calm down we attended our last public Miami festivities that evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chalk it up as another funny story, my mom says it was the evening "where your father lost his mind" and my sister still won't go downtown. My brother is the only one who has no recollection of the events....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a safe and happy 4th full of bloggable events!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1086308074862067669?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1086308074862067669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1086308074862067669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1086308074862067669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1086308074862067669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-4th.html' title='Happy 4th!'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-4319693667016851109</id><published>2008-07-02T12:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T12:37:01.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex with an Ex</title><content type='html'>I know the above title is such a bad idea for 1,000 different reasons that right now in my lunch time stupor I am not even going touch, but seriously.....&lt;br /&gt;when you are a single mom, with a toddler, who doesn't even want to think about dating (I say this but I spend inordinate amounts of time dwelling on this topic) who is terrifyed of the idea of being naked in front of someone "new" what sort of options are out there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The obvious solution would be keeping it in my pants but in regards to this topic I am apparently not the smartest cookie.  I have needs....needs that have been met for years (by ex Mr. Skyzi (he hated when I called him that...muahahahaha)).  The whole idea of going on "solo missions" is just not as appealing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I wasn't so dick dumb......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-4319693667016851109?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4319693667016851109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=4319693667016851109' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4319693667016851109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4319693667016851109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/sex-with-ex.html' title='Sex with an Ex'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-2216536528496775165</id><published>2008-07-01T14:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T14:41:23.735-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Strength</title><content type='html'>I wish I had this man's strength. Please don't watch it if you are feeling a little emotional already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MsTyXvxjEY4&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MsTyXvxjEY4&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am truly blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-2216536528496775165?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2216536528496775165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=2216536528496775165' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2216536528496775165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2216536528496775165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/real-strength.html' title='Real Strength'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1258804142863689535</id><published>2008-06-30T08:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T08:10:28.312-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gymboree</title><content type='html'>This weekend I took the muffin to Gymboree for the first time. She started off with apprehension and tentative stares and by the time it was time to leave she was screaming for Gym-bo. I had a similar process. Started off wanting to jab my eyes out with the ladies singing and left singing the clean up song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This silly little class brought me so much joy....I talked with other mom's, reveled in my child's laughter, felt proud that my kid wasn't the one screaming or whacking the other kids and sat in awe as I heard my baby singing to herself for the first time as we drove home. That freaky little clown rocks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1258804142863689535?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1258804142863689535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1258804142863689535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1258804142863689535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1258804142863689535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/06/gymboree.html' title='Gymboree'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8928304624312983988</id><published>2008-06-24T08:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T08:12:59.939-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Party like an aging rock star!</title><content type='html'>We went out.....in the rain....because we said we would....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a good time but it is so strange going out to places I used to go to BB (Before baby) and seeing that the people havn't aged and the places are still the same.  I don't know what I expected but the fact that we spent an hour mourning the closing of club (I use that term loosely) that we used to frequent talking about the good old days made me feel old.  It also didn't help that we met up with a group of people where the average age was 23.  23 and childless which makes me officially 85.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a side note to any men who might come across this site.  When you ask a woman her age and she says guess, DO NOT BE honest and run the risk of saying that she is five years older than she actually is.  Because if you do, she will totally bust out her cane and beat you with it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8928304624312983988?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8928304624312983988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8928304624312983988' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8928304624312983988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8928304624312983988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/06/party-like-aging-rock-star.html' title='Party like an aging rock star!'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5532946966202063507</id><published>2008-06-20T07:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T07:31:06.595-05:00</updated><title type='text'>B day aftermath</title><content type='html'>It was hard but I pulled me head out of my ass!  Yesterday was a nice day and I am so thankful that I have friends (internet and "real life") who reached out.  I am a lucky girl to have friends who remember it's my day when in reality I have no clue when their birthday's are.  So if you want a birthday shout out make sure you let me know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family made a fantastic dinner for me and then my brother and I proceeded to watch six episodes of Weeds.  Did I mention that I love that show?!?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow wil be the real celebration with a bunch of us going out.  If they are lucky I will wear my good bra (also known as the bra that actually lifts my boobs and squishes them together), real shoes, makeup and my good underwear!  Look out Miami, I'm going out (and by going out I mean home by 1 am.....how things have changed....I'm actually sleepy thinking about it!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you guys doing this weekend?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5532946966202063507?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5532946966202063507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5532946966202063507' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5532946966202063507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5532946966202063507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/06/b-day-aftermath.html' title='B day aftermath'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-4743039338531026221</id><published>2008-06-19T10:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T12:49:33.355-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Blahhhhh</title><content type='html'>I hate that all that I do here is come to whine but I type faster than I write and I have always been too lazy to write in a journal.  So yeah.....let the pitty party begin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first birthday in a longtime where I don't have that special someone to embrace, to kiss and to celebrate with.  After 21, birthdays have been pretty anticlimactic so at this point in the game there are few people to really make a fuss.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth be told.....I enjoy the fuss.  At this point I crave the fuss.....I'm not proud of that but it is what it is.  I am emotional, I have been speaking with my soon to be ex too much (he started taking meds and is a compeltely different person)and I am so emotionally needy right now that I cannot even stand myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is to hopping this next year is full of success and joy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-4743039338531026221?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4743039338531026221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=4743039338531026221' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4743039338531026221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4743039338531026221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/06/birthday-blahhhhh.html' title='Birthday Blahhhhh'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-2891022199456343931</id><published>2008-06-06T10:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T10:32:55.211-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Too Quiet</title><content type='html'>I had always considered myself very low key, emotionally low maintenance.....but I think at this point I have become so accustomed to drama and ridiculous self sabatoge that I may be perpetuating the cycle.  I am putting myself in compromising situations just to keep myself mentally occupied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would rather focus on something external whether it be productive and happy or negative than have the mental time to focus on my internal self.  I am so hormonal right now it is not even funny.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that lately I have had babies on the brain???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-2891022199456343931?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2891022199456343931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=2891022199456343931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2891022199456343931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2891022199456343931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/06/too-quiet.html' title='Too Quiet'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-801836815831820706</id><published>2008-06-05T09:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T09:45:29.984-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey!</title><content type='html'>It's been months of hiding out, of moving back to Miami and of trying to heal.  It has also been a time of taking down certain posts.  I password protected the blog for while not because I wanted to, but because the ex demanded it (via his attorney).  So much has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know whether to continue posting on the blog because I will never be 100% about my feelings, about my relationships because at some point I lost my anonymity.  While before I wanted people I know "in real life" to be able to have insight on my day to day now some of those people use my feelings to hurt me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to have an honest conversation about dating, exes and the future without thinking I will have legal action coming back at me.....but I am stubborn and don't want to change my blog name because someone made me do it!  What is a girl to do?  I miss the outlet!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-801836815831820706?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/801836815831820706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=801836815831820706' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/801836815831820706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/801836815831820706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/06/hey.html' title='Hey!'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-4122611124952943730</id><published>2008-02-14T10:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T11:05:42.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The best gift evah</title><content type='html'>Two years ago today I saw my daughters heart beat for the first time.  It was my first ultrasound and even though I had a technician shoving that damn wand up my crotch, the moment I heard that sounds and saw that little peanut bopping around I was hooked.  That is the only occassion in my adult life where I spontaneously started crying.  I didn't expect it, couldn't contain it, but it was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To go from one minute of understanding that I was pregnant to actually seeing something.....it's really mind blowing.  Today as we opened gifts from the Grandparents and I saw those little toes and fingers moving around and that smile, all I could think is tham I'm so lucky to have this little girl as my one true Valentine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentine's Day to all of you.  I hope you feel the love today and take a moment to take it in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-4122611124952943730?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4122611124952943730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=4122611124952943730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4122611124952943730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4122611124952943730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/02/best-gift-evah.html' title='The best gift evah'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5619592976966445958</id><published>2008-02-06T10:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T10:42:32.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sirens in the morning</title><content type='html'>There is nothing like waking up in the wee hours of the morning to the sound of Tornado sirens.  It is like a nice big steaming cup of gas station coffee that gives you the runs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is going to be a long day....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5619592976966445958?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5619592976966445958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5619592976966445958' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5619592976966445958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5619592976966445958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/02/sirens-in-morning.html' title='Sirens in the morning'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7904430110546282031</id><published>2008-02-01T09:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T09:53:31.165-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Next she will be running for President</title><content type='html'>Yesterday at 16 months and six days the muffin went potty.  She sat down and peed.  I'm sure you are all as excited as I am, but to me this is AMAZING. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promptly signed her up for her SAT's and the presidential race.  Her platform is reformed health care, better playgrounds and unlimited sweet potato puffs for all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7904430110546282031?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7904430110546282031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7904430110546282031' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7904430110546282031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7904430110546282031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/02/next-she-will-be-running-for-president.html' title='Next she will be running for President'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-588308565514183261</id><published>2008-01-29T22:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T22:48:01.937-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Get back on the horse</title><content type='html'>In an effort to move on I have been really trying to figure out some outlets (healthy ones) to meet new people. After searching online for possible social groups all I have come up with is church and possibly Weight Watchers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have started church shopping but haven't really found the right combination of a sermon that is not too much fire and brimstone speak and a congregation where I could see fitting in. The first church I went to there were too many old people. Second church the minister had a little too much pep early in the morning with a dash of judgement. The third church was too small. So the search continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weight Watchers stems from my need to take control, have a little support in the perpetual battle and at least interact with adults one evening a week. With that said I don't think I'm ready....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a firm believer in dealing with one problem at a time so I don't get overwhelmed and feel buried by life but each day that goes by it becomes more of a glaring problem. Now, along with having control over all other major decisions in my life &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; also have control over what comes into the house, what I ingest, blah, blah, blah. Even so I am still waiting to really mentally punish myself for not getting my ass in gear. I don't know what I'm waiting for but I hope I reach that point soon. My ass isn't getting any smaller while I wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it will be the point when I realize I need to lose a couple pounds to comfortably take my wedding ring off.....whenever that is. It is that last symbol of the life I thought I would have and even though I don't give two shits about what people think of me I judge myself. I felt/ feel comfort with these bands on my fingers even though it is completely false.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is veering terribly off the course I saw it going, so I will leave you with two questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do you/ did you meet new people when you know no one and live in a smaller town?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When do you take off you wedding ring?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-588308565514183261?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/588308565514183261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=588308565514183261' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/588308565514183261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/588308565514183261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/01/get-back-on-horse.html' title='Get back on the horse'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5585088240392288493</id><published>2008-01-17T14:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T14:55:05.433-05:00</updated><title type='text'>D is for Divorce</title><content type='html'>Um yeah....so I have been in hiding....again....but I'm back (I hope). For the past couple months I have internally been in a war zone. I would open a fresh post type something that might actually have some substance and then erase it. For me the act of verbalizing it/ writing it is really the end. In this case it is the demise of my marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to say I am not going into details out of respect blah, blah, blah but the actuality is that he reads this blog on occasion. Even though everything I would be typing is truth I don't really feel like putting up with more shit, so I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In response to some reactions that I have gotten:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, I have thought this through&lt;br /&gt;yes, I know what I'm doing&lt;br /&gt;yes, I have thought about my daughter(I would never have done it for myself)&lt;br /&gt;no, I do not want a seperation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the past weeks I have been back in FL, gotten an attorney (he has too), started filing the paperwork, moved out (still in AL so he can still visit the muffin) and tried once again to put together my life. This time the only people I have to think about are my daughter and myself and honestly it is a relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a believer of the concept: Happy parent= happy child. My goal now is to see the joy in everything that is good (and even the things that are not), take the time to enjoy those moments that go by so quickly, enjoy the positive relationships that I do have and most importantly enjoy this amazing little person that I have the privilege of calling my daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a lucky girl people, I have friends and family that would do anything for me and my own space in this world. Instead of mourning I am full of an optimism I haven't had for years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5585088240392288493?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5585088240392288493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5585088240392288493' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5585088240392288493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5585088240392288493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2008/01/d-is-for-divorce.html' title='D is for Divorce'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-9188420028238071796</id><published>2007-12-12T11:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T11:49:56.881-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why you ask???</title><content type='html'>I LOVE IT!  &lt;a href="http://www.theambershow.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amber&lt;/a&gt; so nicely asked why I moved, so my internet friend I will tell you, my husband got a great job here.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After literally applying for &lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hundreds&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; of jobs within the Miami-Dade/ Broward government system and getting almost no feedback (I think he is over qualified), getting two degrees (he goes to graducation for his Master's on Monday)and just getting beat down, one day on a whim I started looking at other states.  I found a posting for a Parks and Recreation Director in Alabama and he applied.  He phone screened, we visited and he was offered the position.  This all happened in the span of maybe a month....crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we are here in Alabama in a city of a population of just over 5,000.  So if anyone out there want's to take a stab at small town living I can recommend just the place......you can come and be my real live friend (because now I need some, you can pick up the application online).....please, I'll bake you cookies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-9188420028238071796?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/9188420028238071796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=9188420028238071796' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9188420028238071796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9188420028238071796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/12/why-you-ask.html' title='Why you ask???'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-190941058527574525</id><published>2007-12-10T17:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T17:26:08.298-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv'/><title type='text'>From Poop to Snoop</title><content type='html'>I'm always afraid of a day that starts with my child producing an object out of her rear where I am left speechless and gagging and running around in panic with my only desire being to CONTAIN the beast! After 45 minutes of crime scene clean up we started the day again. Breakfast, coffee, then read the paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is my question internet:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it normal to open the paper and have FEMA tell you how you can pick up your "Clean Room Kit" for free locally? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As in Clean The MF'in Mustard Gas Out Of The Air (this is the only biological [I don't actually know if this is a bio hazard] agent the military can tell you about) Before It Brutalizes You And Your Family Kit. I can handle a hurricane, was almost coming to terms with the idea of a Tornado but the idea of having to seal all the doors and windows of a "safe" room and having 5 hours of air filtering (plenty of time according to the operator)capabilities at my fingertips has me flustered. Don't they know I have a toddler at home!?! Unless I have enough of this air filter crap to clean half a city block I'm screwed. But don't worry, the alarms implanted in my neighborhood will tell me what to do.....Big Brother, huh, what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of interesting fumes, last night I had an opportunity to catch Snoop Doggs reality show. I haven't seen someone high for that long in a long time. Snoop doing Yoga, Snoop scared of needles, Snoop vacuuming, Snoop the family man and through it all his eyes are so squinty you could blind the man with a bit of dental floss. Yes, I watched the whole thing and then DVR'ed the season. I have no idea why but I haven't laughed like that in awhile!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-190941058527574525?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/190941058527574525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=190941058527574525' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/190941058527574525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/190941058527574525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/12/from-poop-to-snoop.html' title='From Poop to Snoop'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-9043295648103000056</id><published>2007-12-07T13:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T14:12:35.067-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking and Entering</title><content type='html'>So I go outside to get the mail, when I go back to the house the door is locked. Now if you didn't know I know NO ONE. Thank God the baby was at daycare! Today is also the day that my husband was at an off site meeting, almost an hour away.... so I walked to my husbands office in my PJ's with my ghetto ass ugly ass shoes. No shower, no real clothes, no phone, no house keys, no car keys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hub's co-workers were in the office eating. Did I mention that two of the three employees are prisoners?? I'm sure I did. So we did what any normal person would do, we drove to my house and broke in. Two men in white uniforms with black block lettering on their backs declaring them Alabama State Prisoners jimmied the window open and slid in laughing about how this isn't the first time they had done this?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They kidded with me how by the time I went to the bathroom they could have had all my furniture and electronics out of the house. I laughed along and proceeded to run through the house putting all the window locks on. If I ever lock myself out again I am really screwed, I'm making this place Fort Knox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I do today? I helped people commit an act that apparently can give you 5 years behind bars, but don't worry "they wouldn't do me like that"! I'm getting renters insurance ASAP.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-9043295648103000056?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/9043295648103000056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=9043295648103000056' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9043295648103000056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9043295648103000056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/12/breaking-and-entering.html' title='Breaking and Entering'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1694586649092909279</id><published>2007-12-06T16:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T17:15:37.052-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alabama'/><title type='text'>Greetings from Alabama</title><content type='html'>I've been in an admitted hiding thinking, unpacking, ignoring and taking it all in. I finally have my necessities: internet, phone (with unlimited long distance) and a sense of my bearings. I can still be at a Starbucks within 15 minutes and in the giant big box that is Super Target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all this time outside of my routine I have had nothing but time to think and for me this can often be a dangerous and counter productive thing. Unfortunately it makes me doubt and question EVERYTHING. Very few of these questions have actually surfaced and these issues are now lingering and yes I know I am being evasive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago I finally broke down and put the muffin in a day care....with strangers. She is 14 months and this is the first time I have had to do it (my mom was watching her in Miami). I went to pick her up after her 5 hour stint and she was covered in her food, from lunch with her pants on backwards. They seem like sweet women and today I brought a washcloth for her so she was 95% crust free. She was missing an earring but I am trying to let it go. She doesn't cry when I leave but today she cried when I picked her up, it broke my heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also achieved the complete inability to make major decisions. I currently have no car (sold mine in Miami) so I am renting and nothing is on our walls. So besides not being sure of where I am living or what I am driving I'm all set?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with the questioning I have also been able to enjoy what small town America has to offer me. Watching people finalize their Christmas decorations with all the white twinkling lights, seeing the stars at night, hearing the sound of children playing in their yards, the cool crispness in the air and going for walks without the fear of being mowed down is amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1694586649092909279?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1694586649092909279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1694586649092909279' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1694586649092909279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1694586649092909279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/12/greetings-from-alabama.html' title='Greetings from Alabama'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1815497704355771092</id><published>2007-11-15T10:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T10:46:12.315-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to your regularly scheduled spaz!</title><content type='html'>Yeah so I have been MIA due to the fact that I have no computer at home which means I have to get all my moving/ car/ location searching done during business hours, replacing my time where I could be writing to you, my internet friends. I hope you missed me ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am on my way to having a full on melt down. This whole idea of giving someone all my worldly possessions where they drive away and may or may not hijack (every company has this complaint against them at the Better Business Bureau) said items is blowing my mind. On top of that I have to pay them....a lot! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I am selling my car but I have not found a car so I am going to be car less and potentially insurance less. Oh, oh, oh and did I mention I have not packed and that no one who shows up to look at our apartment is qualified (out of 10 appointments only 1 person has shown up, grrrrr). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had these delusional visions of spending my last days in Miami enjoying the palm trees, my friends and relaxing. I also mentally omitted the fact that if all my stuff is packed on a truck somewhere in the USA.  Where is my family eating Thanksgiving dinner? So I am also potentially looking at spending Thanksgiving eating at a Waffle House and or eating microwave turkey with plastic sporks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go breathe into a brown paper bag now....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*This post has been brought to you by Dunkin Donuts Large Coffee Coolatta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1815497704355771092?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1815497704355771092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1815497704355771092' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1815497704355771092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1815497704355771092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/11/back-to-your-regularly-scheduled-spaz.html' title='Back to your regularly scheduled spaz!'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7950092783637333889</id><published>2007-11-07T15:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T10:36:02.738-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alabama'/><title type='text'>Roll tide.....or whatever they say...</title><content type='html'>The trip was a welcome and beautiful, where I realized how much I enjoy seeing the leaves change, how nice it is when the air is crisp and how nice it is for strangers to smile and wave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went for a walk Sunday morning at 6:30 in the morning, then we walked to church (a miracle in itself) where everyone asked our names and then listened to the answer. The men open doors, people call you Miss and Ma'am and smile. Did I mention how people smile and wave? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After going through my life thinking I have no identifiable accent and loving that fact I started to hear how harsh my voice is. I pronounce hi as "high", harsh and to the point, I can be snarky and I'm very direct in dealing with people. This may be the excuse I have needed to further hone my skills in diplomacy and the effective smile. Who can be mad at you when you are always smiling? I sure as hell don't want to be known as that Yankee bitch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cultural differences are astounding. Even the concept of beauty is altered. Women really take care of themselves. The hair, makeup and nails are all done up. These women make sweat suits look classy. I even took the time to do my eyes and lips, it felt great to get it together for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can finally say that I am excited to make the move up there. I can't wait to be part of a true community where I know my neighbors and care about them. Miami has been great and I have made lifelong connections but the day to day can be isolating. You are a number in a large sprawling beautiful city where you spend more time in your car than playing in your yard. Family &amp; friend time requires a lot of effort here, I know that this will change. I already know groups of parents with small children in Alabama where in Miami I have struggled to meet other working parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am concentrating on all the positives and I know it is not always going to be pro Alabama but right now I am still in the dating stage and I'm hoping to fall in love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7950092783637333889?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7950092783637333889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7950092783637333889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7950092783637333889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7950092783637333889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/11/roll-tideor-whatever-they-say.html' title='Roll tide.....or whatever they say...'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5547379189708448117</id><published>2007-11-07T14:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T15:20:23.224-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back from Bama</title><content type='html'>This weekend was the official husband send off. We drove up to Alabama, unloaded several items including my computer (I take no responsibility for being a slacker blogger), spent a couple days with him and left to come back to Miami. Don't worry, we are going back in a couple weeks too but I have to tie up some loose ends, like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-sublet our apartment&lt;br /&gt;-sell my car&lt;br /&gt;-buy a car&lt;br /&gt;-find a daycare/ sitter&lt;br /&gt;-lose my mind&lt;br /&gt;-find my mind&lt;br /&gt;-eat as much Latin/multi-cultural food as possible&lt;br /&gt;-soak in the heat&lt;br /&gt;-find a new internet/phone/cell provider (since none of them work where we are going to be living)&lt;br /&gt;-buy closed toe shoes that I like (I have not worn closed toe shoes for more than two hours in over two years [this is not an exaggeration])&lt;br /&gt;-pack our apartment&lt;br /&gt;-confirm a mover&lt;br /&gt;-buy plane tickets back to Miami for husbands Masters graduation (you rock baby!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have purged my mental to do list I can tell you that this past weekend....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5547379189708448117?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5547379189708448117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5547379189708448117' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5547379189708448117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5547379189708448117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/11/back-from-bama.html' title='Back from Bama'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-6519240547186928347</id><published>2007-10-31T09:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T10:29:15.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Days of Halloween past</title><content type='html'>While reading &lt;a href="http://www.rockstarmommy.com"&gt;Rockstar Mommy's&lt;/a&gt; post about Halloween I remembered what Halloween used to be like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As kid it was an opportunity to gord myself on candy while having my mom yell at me to put on my winter coat because it was cold outside. That winter coat always ruined my damn costume. Have I mentioned that I was a gypsie/ hippie every year. I was boho before there was boho...yeah?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trick-or-treating lost its appeal sometime around middle school when being back home before dark was so not cool, or maybe it was my finally realizing that a 5'4" yellow tweety bird costume wasn't cute, on anyone. High school was finally the time when I was able to "go to a friends house". Shaving cream and eggs were always on cars and in our driveway the night after and it was about time I roamed around with my own eggs and shaving cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should mention that in high school I was friends with a wide selection of thin, petite females who in their heads were bad asses. I too had that same mentality but was not of the genus thin.* So yeah, three of us decided to go out into the streets and walk around to see what was up. We took a male cousin for backup but really because he was our only male companionship and because I wasn't related to him he was super cute! (this entire post makes me sound like a twelve year old girl) So four bad asses walking down the street giggling, acting ridiculous, until twenty real bad asses started walking toward us all in black hoodies with hands in their pockets. By the time the words "don't run and look scared because they will come after us" had left my lips and I turned around, my three friends were already running in the opposite direction and half way down the block. This was about the time I saw the eggs start hitting the pavement. In that moment I became Marion Jones, performance enhancing drugs and all and I ran. I ran like my life depended on it because at 15 I thought it did. After realizing my legs are short and there is no way I can outrun 20 people I began to bob and weave into neighbors yards. I waited behind an AC unit for what seemed like forever until I heard a friend of mine calling my name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all laughed (nervously) but because we had each other and were oh so cool we then decided to get some eggs. The run had left us scared so we proceeded to stand in the driveway and wait for cars to pass by so we could egg them. Looking back, this entire concept is wrong on so many levels (in your own driveway so someone can tell your parents, completely open to counter attack etc.), I would be such a better delinquent now! So yeah, in our excitement we went through about half a dozen just having them crack in our hands. Then the first car went by, the windows rolled down and they egged us. We were egged in our own driveways by a moving car and all we had to show for it were egg stained clothes and egg hands, and then they doubled around the block and did it again. This pretty much raps up my life as a juvenile delinquent, sad but true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now with the baby we have a clean slate with Halloween. For the next couple years it will be the lovely clean candy holiday complete with costume.....just keep those eggs away from me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*As a side note I am still friends with almost all of them and they are still bad ass bitches!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-6519240547186928347?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6519240547186928347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=6519240547186928347' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6519240547186928347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6519240547186928347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/10/days-of-halloween-past.html' title='Days of Halloween past'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-2643280396959274464</id><published>2007-10-24T13:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T13:12:54.900-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Because there is a very fine line between entertainment and a waste of time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.am-i-dumb.com" title="How smart am I?"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.am-i-dumb.com/images/stamps/92-2.gif" width=200 height=100 border=0 alt="How smart are you?"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;Am-I-Dumb.com - &lt;a href="http://www.am-i-dumb.com"&gt;Dumb?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-2643280396959274464?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2643280396959274464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=2643280396959274464' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2643280396959274464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2643280396959274464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/10/because-there-is-very-fine-line-between.html' title='Because there is a very fine line between entertainment and a waste of time'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-429294115825834575</id><published>2007-10-22T19:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T19:21:07.747-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not in Kansas anymore (or NY, or Miami)</title><content type='html'>The reason that I haven't been around recently is because I have been in Alabama. This was no ordinary vacation folks, this was to look at what is now going to be our new home town. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What made you pick middle of the state, random city Alabama you say? Glad you asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband, Mr. Skyzi if you will, has received an amazing job offer (I am so proud of you baby). He will be BFE, Alabama Director of Parks and Recreation. We met City officials, toured around, had our pictures taken (we will be in the paper) all in one long weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*This section has been deleted out of fear of someone finding this passage and stringing me up by my Yankee ears*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone was ridiculously friendly and welcoming. They ate the baby up, she in turn had her first taste of BBQ, french fries and catfish. As a mother who never lets my kid have salt or sugar I have just stopped twitching, but whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it was our first time visiting the surrounding areas we were happy to see that in reality we are not that far from "civilization". Atlanta and Ikea are under two hours away. Target, Walmart and KMart (apparently the markers of cities that have made it in the South) are under 20 minutes away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had fried crab claws and they were amazing. I saw several amazing old school southern houses that made me drool. The baby had the opportunity to see cows and make her little excited chirping noise. We sat inside the AC of the car to watch the cows but its a start. I saw my first train (that wasn't a commuter train) in I can't remember how long. My husband started saying y'all and pronouncing hi like h-a. All new things, all exciting things, all things I can grow to love (right, right?!?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been searching for a slower pace of life both physically and mentally and I hope this is what we have been looking for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rx09tJsGSMI/AAAAAAAAAFw/Zq1DZmNFsXA/s1600-h/CIMG1962.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rx09tJsGSMI/AAAAAAAAAFw/Zq1DZmNFsXA/s320/CIMG1962.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124319796921780418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention I have never been a part of Nascar?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look, he is already wearing plaid!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-429294115825834575?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/429294115825834575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=429294115825834575' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/429294115825834575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/429294115825834575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/10/im-not-in-kansas-anymore-or-ny-or-miami.html' title='I&apos;m not in Kansas anymore (or NY, or Miami)'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rx09tJsGSMI/AAAAAAAAAFw/Zq1DZmNFsXA/s72-c/CIMG1962.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7032901366272417446</id><published>2007-10-16T13:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T14:00:23.539-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When I get old</title><content type='html'>So I'm at the gym trying to keep my sweat from not hitting the others when I notice that besides myself there are three other people. One woman has an ass you could bounce a quarter off (meanwhile all I could see when looking at her was her camel toe)and two women were between 75-80.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am all about staying fit at any age but this was insanity. One of them was on the bike with no shoes and the other was stretching in such a manner that at any moment she was going to fly into another machine. I have not to my recollection been someone to make fun of the elderly but I couldn't help smiling. It made me think about what I wanted to be like when I get old, like 90 old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be the old lady jamming out to music, any kind of music even if you cant hear it.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be the lady with the crazy hair/clothes/jewelry who you recognize because I don't give a damn and "I do what I want".&lt;br /&gt;I want to enjoy my family but not be a burden.&lt;br /&gt;I want to spoil people to the best of my ability.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to leave money to people, I want them/me to enjoy the money while I am alive.&lt;br /&gt;I still want to travel, because I will never see it all and as long as these legs of mine work(even if its slow as hell or without shoes) I want to keep moving.&lt;br /&gt;I want to take classes for kicks and to mess with the younger students.&lt;br /&gt;I want to look back at a life well lived, full of laughter and the occasional tears.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be proud of my accomplishments and revel in the lives that I have helped enrich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you want?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7032901366272417446?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7032901366272417446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7032901366272417446' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7032901366272417446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7032901366272417446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/10/when-i-get-old.html' title='When I get old'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5133605439194940440</id><published>2007-10-13T10:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T10:13:28.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh?</title><content type='html'>Feeling safe on a Saturday morning.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RxDfhpsGSLI/AAAAAAAAAFo/y7oHcyBnFtg/s1600-h/Photo_2007_10_13_15_7_25_edited.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RxDfhpsGSLI/AAAAAAAAAFo/y7oHcyBnFtg/s320/Photo_2007_10_13_15_7_25_edited.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120838545539745970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What exactly is a lewd act? I'm guessing there was shlong involved, just saying. How awesome was it that she hit him. I totally would have starting screaming like a b-atch and run. I'm all about the flight vs. the fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an unrelated event there is nothing like parking your car and seeing the police taking someone into custody (is it weird that I looked inside to see if I knew the person?). I also really like the news vans (although we are only cool enough for the Spanish stations), I hope this isn't me five minutes of fame.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5133605439194940440?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5133605439194940440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5133605439194940440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5133605439194940440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5133605439194940440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/10/huh.html' title='Huh?'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RxDfhpsGSLI/AAAAAAAAAFo/y7oHcyBnFtg/s72-c/Photo_2007_10_13_15_7_25_edited.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8145738614039603803</id><published>2007-10-12T07:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T08:05:41.641-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby pics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Feeding frenzy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rw9wFpsGSKI/AAAAAAAAAFg/gsHupecoxLc/s1600-h/1547111096_e3bcc69d20_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rw9wFpsGSKI/AAAAAAAAAFg/gsHupecoxLc/s320/1547111096_e3bcc69d20_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120434543736015010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rw9wApsGSJI/AAAAAAAAAFY/8NehxX-6upc/s1600-h/1547110736_b3c48b536a_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rw9wApsGSJI/AAAAAAAAAFY/8NehxX-6upc/s320/1547110736_b3c48b536a_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120434457836669074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rw9v4psGSII/AAAAAAAAAFQ/20A5kFLHHMg/s1600-h/1547110184_7a04e575ef_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rw9v4psGSII/AAAAAAAAAFQ/20A5kFLHHMg/s320/1547110184_7a04e575ef_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120434320397715586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rw9vdZsGSHI/AAAAAAAAAFI/y0wj1H1PCeg/s1600-h/1547109834_baec34f154_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rw9vdZsGSHI/AAAAAAAAAFI/y0wj1H1PCeg/s320/1547109834_baec34f154_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120433852246280306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After realizing that we had no pictures of this child "eating" I set out to rectify that. Introducing my daughter (drum roll please), the worlds worst eater (dah dah!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her favorite food is ice. That's right, ice people. No caloric or nutritional content. We have to bait her with something else, pretend she can feed herself, bring out some ice. When she goes to open her mouth to eat the ice, BAM, we sneak in the real food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, that is not children's paint, it is some sort of organic bisque..... we will try anything to get her to eat. Her palette does not discriminate. Anything with the least bit of texture and watch out, its coming back at you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is lucky she is cute. Just think, if you were that cute what you could get away with!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8145738614039603803?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8145738614039603803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8145738614039603803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8145738614039603803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8145738614039603803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/10/feeding-frenzy.html' title='Feeding frenzy'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rw9wFpsGSKI/AAAAAAAAAFg/gsHupecoxLc/s72-c/1547111096_e3bcc69d20_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-3976660132840445608</id><published>2007-10-08T14:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T14:27:36.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Drinkin buddies</title><content type='html'>We all remember those people that we used to drink with...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pre-marriage, pre-baby, pre-relationship, pre-life, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and think about how we would never do that now that we are adults...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RwqCbJsGSGI/AAAAAAAAAFA/BdjalrGdgPs/s1600-h/1478657269_f848a0f2e2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RwqCbJsGSGI/AAAAAAAAAFA/BdjalrGdgPs/s320/1478657269_f848a0f2e2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119047329428949090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend, OJ, husband&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes ladies and gentleman, we only hang out at the swanky bars, with all the cool riff raff (this is also the bar where I met my husband). I now remember why I stopped drinking outside of the home (as much)!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-3976660132840445608?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3976660132840445608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=3976660132840445608' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3976660132840445608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3976660132840445608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/10/drinkin-buddies.html' title='Drinkin buddies'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RwqCbJsGSGI/AAAAAAAAAFA/BdjalrGdgPs/s72-c/1478657269_f848a0f2e2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-3193695164008056954</id><published>2007-10-04T07:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T10:48:55.884-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misc.'/><title type='text'>I love you guys!</title><content type='html'>I think we broke records yesterday! Four comments, I may be swooning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On an entirely separate note, I am now addressing the b-atch in her damn Mini Cooper who thinks she is auditioning for the Italian Job. Get off my ASS! We are in a parking lot, in an office park, not a race track. When you see the lanes merging into one STOP trying to pass me on the right. One day I am going to "not see you" in a rental car and plow you into the hedges. 8 am is too damn early for road rage woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*EDIT: I removed the comments because one of them contained my real name.  For some reason that freaks me out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-3193695164008056954?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3193695164008056954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3193695164008056954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-love-you-guys.html' title='I love you guys!'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1484846188576297827</id><published>2007-10-03T13:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T13:37:21.078-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lurking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Hey, you.....yeah you</title><content type='html'>To my beloved readers (all three of you), thank you for joining me. I'm sorry for not posting more often but I have been busy mourning the fact that my baby is no longer a baby. Can you believe they told me she can eat and drink anything? Cows milk people, they want her drinking cows milk.... don't they know I just spent $50 on toddler formula....damn doctors, what do they know. They also said she can sit in a forward facing car seat, like a big girl (sob, sob). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So enough about my child and down to the nitty gritty. I know there are several people who read the blog and NEVER comment! Today is for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.schmutzie.com/2007/09/814-great-mofo-delurk-2007.html" title="The Great Mofo Delurk 2007"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v491/schmutzie_pickles/buttons/orange.jpg" alt="The Great Mofo Delurk 2007" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can find this button on http://www.schmutzie.com/2007/09/814-great-mofo-delurk-2007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I get extreme joy when I know people are reading &lt;strong&gt;AND&lt;/strong&gt; commenting. The funny part is that those of you who know me in the flesh are the biggest culprits. Yes you have to register to comment but then it is fun, fun, fun! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those of you who have your own blogs, I thank you for writing and I promise to make an effort to be an active commenter and not a MoFo Lurker!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1484846188576297827?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1484846188576297827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1484846188576297827' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1484846188576297827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1484846188576297827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/10/hey-youyeah-you.html' title='Hey, you.....yeah you'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5805842475692683810</id><published>2007-09-24T19:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T08:04:58.838-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby pics'/><title type='text'>Happy 1st Birthday Muffin!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table border="0" cellPadding="0" cellSpacing="0" bgcolor=#FFFFFF&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="http://www.smilebox.com/play/4d5449344d4455784d773d3d0d0a&amp;campaign=blog_playback_link"&gt;&lt;img style="border: none" width="420" height="330" src="http://www.smilebox.com/snap/4d5449344d4455784d773d3d0d0a.jpg" alt="1st year " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="http://www.smilebox.com/?partner=yahoo&amp;campaign=blog_logo"&gt;&lt;img style="border: none" width="420" height="46" src="http://www.smilebox.com/images/blogLogoSmilebox.gif" alt="Powered by Smilebox" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="http://www.smilebox.com/play/4d5449344d4455784d773d3d0d0a&amp;campaign=blog_playback_link"&gt;Click to play&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt; | &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a target="_blank" href="http://www.smilebox.com/makeYourOwnRedirect.jsp?partner=yahoo&amp;campaign=blog_post_makeyourown"&gt;Make your own Smilebox&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muffin,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I would have written you letters month by month but at the very least I thought I should give you a summary of your first year of life, so here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we found out you were coming we were so excited/ scared about your arrival. I got larger and larger and the doctors told me you would be big. They had to induce me when you didn't arrive on time and after 10 hours of labor they said you were never coming out....so they went in and got you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had spent all that time thinking of you, trying to imagine what you would be like. You were amazing. You came out a whopping 9lbs 11oz, 22inches long. Your daddy told me you looked like you were going to eat the other nursery babies. You had this thick black hair with light blue/grey eyes and chunky cheeks and looking at you now you would never know. You now have blondish hair with beautiful light brown eyes, you are your fathers mini me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were an amazing breast feeder who didn't grasp the concept of appropriate sleeping times until about 8 months. Now at one year old you are sleeping by 8 and don't wake until 7. I am starting to mourn our time together breastfeeding as I work to wean you (wean me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting you to eat is like a scene from mission impossible. One person has to be bouncing around, you have to be playing with a toy, have a cookie and then maybe, just maybe you will eat a bite. We scrutinize your diaper in order to have an educated discussion of whether or not you are getting enough liquids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You personality is breathtaking. You captivate anyone who is around you. You are only shy on rare occasions and you are not afraid to approach a stranger to take their cookie/ binky/ book. You are a fire cracker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You always had that beautiful smile and delighted in being held by everyone but now you squawk in conversation. You are desperate to partake in big kid activities and thank goodness you are around older children you let you maul them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are unexpectedly mischievous in a completely adorable way. You know you are doing something wrong (like assaulting your fathers XBox360) but also know that if you flash that devilish smile we will just scoop you up with kisses. That look of knowing and that smile are irresistible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You started walking at 8 months and now you run. We can take you anywhere and as long as we are not skipping a nap or meal you are wonderfully flexible. In your first year of life you have been to NYC, Orlando, Ocala and of course your home Miami.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your initial terror of the pool has become excitement. You are fearless. You walk down steps like they don't exist and will throw yourself from chairs and beds. I feel blessed to know that you think someone will always be there to catch you.... and I hope we always will be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Sunday we had your first birthday party. It was held at a park and we had 40 people gathered who love you. You ran around like a little sweaty nut and chased ducks, went down wet slides and gave your obligatory smiles, you even had cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much I want you to know about your first year but now all the images are overwhelming me. You are our sanity, the flash of beauty and joy that brightens the day. Watching you with your grandparents and your aunts and uncles is amazing. I never thought I would feel this much love and joy, you brought that to me and to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy has to go wipe her tears now, because she has never been happier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5805842475692683810?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5805842475692683810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5805842475692683810' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5805842475692683810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5805842475692683810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/09/happy-1st-birthday-muffin.html' title='Happy 1st Birthday Muffin!'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-3855906903674472188</id><published>2007-09-21T07:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T08:03:01.052-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>One liners that make my heart stop</title><content type='html'>Where is the baby??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is my wallet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the condom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the car??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was my last period?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-3855906903674472188?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3855906903674472188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=3855906903674472188' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3855906903674472188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3855906903674472188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/09/one-liners-that-make-my-heart-stop.html' title='One liners that make my heart stop'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-9123144122096478901</id><published>2007-09-19T19:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T20:05:42.108-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Busy busy</title><content type='html'>Sorry to be MIA but it's been a crazy few days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we went to the Dave Matthews concert up north and it was amazing! It is so rare to be surrounded by thousands of people where everyone is happy to be there, excited and yelling in anticipation. The set list was filled with all his best work and as usual their performance was perfect. This also marked my return to his summer concert tour after being very pregnant last year. It's amazing how good you can feel with a little music, a little beer (maybe more than a little), a few good friends and a nice buzz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was even better. One of my best friends gave birth. I was there to take a couple pictures, say hi and drop off some chapstick. I ended up being a leg holder and watching a new life emerge from someones crotch. It still blows my mind how you can go from a couple to a small family within two seconds. The experience almost made me want to do it again (don't worry baby I said almost). For now I will enjoy playing with someone else's newborn muffin. After seeing his full head of hair I let her know that our children were now aloud to get together seeing as they would have the hair genes covered!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole process drove home how much can change in a couple years and even in just nine months. As annoying as it is to have a period, cramps, etc. it is a gift....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been blessed with so much this past year. My child is happy and healthy and a ball of fire. This weekend we are celebrating her birthday (a post unto itself) and it has been the best year, must unpredictable and most rewarding. I have this face I can look into and give my purest, most sincere smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to be corny (but I am), but it is a good life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-9123144122096478901?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/9123144122096478901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=9123144122096478901' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9123144122096478901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9123144122096478901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/09/busy-busy.html' title='Busy busy'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-6891031847699795116</id><published>2007-09-14T09:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T09:37:03.194-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>It's Friday</title><content type='html'>Today while waiting in line I was captivated by this guys tattoo.  It was a bold yet simple graphic design around his elbow.  Living in Miami in the land of the short sleeve shirt this is a MAJOR commitment.  As I chit chatted and told him how much I loved it, and asked my 10 mandatory questions (ex. did it hurt, what does it mean etc.) I thought about the other questions that I have that I would never ask aloud:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does he do professionally?  Does he think he is going to be judged by people?  Does he plan on living outside a major city?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think these things because a little (tiny) piece of my would like to say screw you "I do what I want" and die my hair random colors, wear cool artsy t-shirts on a daily basis, get some tattoos and forget conventional thought of what I am supposed to do and look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that I am someone who at times can desire things for the mere fact that I am not allowed or not supposed to, I have a hard time differentiating what I truly want.  Living the life I live now none of the above things would work.  Corporate America doesn't want rainbow bright in their offices.  I don't know how people relate the visual to the mental but they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My real motivating force is that if I changed my look so drastically I might be forced to follow a path that I might really enjoy.  I could blend in with "the artsy" people, live an alternative existence.  Do you know how much better the music is?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-6891031847699795116?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6891031847699795116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=6891031847699795116' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6891031847699795116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6891031847699795116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/09/its-friday.html' title='It&apos;s Friday'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5080923368143877216</id><published>2007-09-12T07:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T07:42:29.879-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alabama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Breastfeeding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Sweet home Alabama</title><content type='html'>Ok, so we are back. After a total of around 24 hours in the car, three states (FL should count for 2 when you are driving from Miami), and 3 days without seeing our little muffin we arrived back in town. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple southern observations:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'all drive real slow.&lt;br /&gt;You fry everything.&lt;br /&gt;If I lived here I would be 400 lbs.&lt;br /&gt;Grammar is more of a theory as opposed to rules.&lt;br /&gt;I love trees.&lt;br /&gt;There is no traffic. &lt;br /&gt;In a town of 5,000 people I can be anywhere in 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I would ever want to live on a farm......I don't think I would mind it now.....did I mention I like trees....and grass....and maybe even a horse.&lt;br /&gt;People have kids young, really young.&lt;br /&gt;People do smile more.&lt;br /&gt;There must be an invisible line excluding Hispanics and Asians (we slipped under the wire as White Hispanics as soon as we swore we would never speak Spanish or cook frijoles).&lt;br /&gt;Boys play football and girls are cheerleaders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as stories, I don't really have many. The trip was pretty uneventful and it was nice to spend some time alone with the husband, alone. Since we were leaving the muffin with grandma and grandpa I thought this might be a good time to wean the baby. My boobs were surprisingly cooperative and leak free....until we got home and I saw the baby and the dam broke and my shirt was wet and we didn't have formula and I ended up breastfeeding again, dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the baby reaching the 1 year old mark this month I am ready to move on from this whole boob thing. At this point she realizes what is up and yesterday she actually blew on my nipples. As in "mom, these things are hot pfffff, pffff". This bonding thing is over, I love her, she loves me now someone pass me my shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the spirit of changing the subject once again did I mention that we got flees? As much as I would like to blame it on Alabama we actually got it from a family members house, who had a dog, who ran away and left a lasting memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone else feel itchy??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5080923368143877216?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5080923368143877216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5080923368143877216' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5080923368143877216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5080923368143877216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/09/sweet-home-alabama.html' title='Sweet home Alabama'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8401087846876520747</id><published>2007-09-06T12:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T13:02:12.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Scared</title><content type='html'>#1 Reason (for today) that I am not allowed to watch scary/ ominous movies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we are going out of town, to the country if you will. We are meeting some people for the first time (will expand on that in the future). While these people sound lovely over the phone and I'm sure are fabulous southerners, what is to say that they are not actually psycho killers who are luring us there under false pretenses? To the middle of no where. Where no one will find us. To maim us, torture us and then chop us into little pieces?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is also the #1 reason I don't have a firearm. The mind can do crazy things, especially after you watch movies with stalkers, with pedophiles and all around not nice people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto lighter topics, what does it mean when you are fantasising about a Paula Dean hamburger recipe while on the elliptical?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8401087846876520747?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8401087846876520747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8401087846876520747' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8401087846876520747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8401087846876520747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/09/scared.html' title='Scared'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-6368577584498829309</id><published>2007-08-31T13:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T19:27:30.408-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I can</title><content type='html'>She is my light and my soul and she cracks me up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rthcqt-LKuI/AAAAAAAAAEY/ThCDQCDpXD8/s1600-h/1262868660_d15db5aa6f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rthcqt-LKuI/AAAAAAAAAEY/ThCDQCDpXD8/s320/1262868660_d15db5aa6f.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104932066589092578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little light but still funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RtheHd-LKxI/AAAAAAAAAEw/dN327ADq0_E/s1600-h/1262011143_5aaf0d2793.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RtheHd-LKxI/AAAAAAAAAEw/dN327ADq0_E/s320/1262011143_5aaf0d2793.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104933660021959442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it me or does she look inebriated?&lt;br /&gt;(AFTERTHOUGHT: Looking at this shot....does anyone else see the Flock of Seagulls hairdo?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RtheTN-LKyI/AAAAAAAAAE4/znBTgIfj9xA/s1600-h/1262870006_8bdebc6843.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RtheTN-LKyI/AAAAAAAAAE4/znBTgIfj9xA/s320/1262870006_8bdebc6843.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104933861885422370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so hard being loved!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-6368577584498829309?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6368577584498829309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=6368577584498829309' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6368577584498829309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6368577584498829309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/because-i-can.html' title='Because I can'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rthcqt-LKuI/AAAAAAAAAEY/ThCDQCDpXD8/s72-c/1262868660_d15db5aa6f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-6271454337995283946</id><published>2007-08-30T08:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T08:53:13.718-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Crazy Sexy Cancer</title><content type='html'>Last night I had the opportunity to watch a documentary by Kris Carr entitled &lt;a href="http://www.crazysexycancer.com"&gt;Crazy Sexy Cancer&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://www.tlc.discovery.com"&gt;TLC&lt;/a&gt;. The film was a-m-a-z-i-n-g. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw a 31 year old woman encounter cancer and come out ahead of the situation. She discovered joy and the ability to truly live. Her &lt;a href="http://www.crazysexycancer.blogspot.com"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; while being new already has some great writing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life is a terminal condition, cancer patients are just more aware of it..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"......I think we tapped into the sweet spot, the place in each of us where possibility meets human potential. Where curiosity hugs "why not?" Here’s the deal, cancer is a just a silly metaphor, like it or not, it’s in each of our lives in some way. For me it’s tumors for you it may be a bad job, your weight or a dead end relationship etc, etc. It’s spooky but it doesn't have to be taboo. It’s just life, so we have to wake up to it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This film made me laugh, cry and question what the hell I am doing. Why aren't I as happy as I can be? Why don't I embrace my creative self, my spiritual self, my healthy self? Why should I wait for some earth shattering event (ex. cancer, death) to wake me up? Why I am I so fearful of the changes I will have to make?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I have an enormous inner strength but I need to use it daily, not just when the shit hits the fan. I don't want to be a person bogged down by circumstance, I want to mold it, make it my vision, make it joy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-6271454337995283946?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6271454337995283946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=6271454337995283946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6271454337995283946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6271454337995283946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/crazy-sexy-cancer.html' title='Crazy Sexy Cancer'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1944907642215495189</id><published>2007-08-29T13:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T14:06:29.434-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><title type='text'>Anecdotes from the gym</title><content type='html'>I am terribly unattractive when I run, walk, eliptacize(??). My mouth goes up and down exposing varying degrees of teeth. I now understand why I have never dated someone from the gym....that and the fact that historically I have always gone to women's gyms....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like it when the trainers milling around the gym tell me "good job".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so sick of my play list on my scandisk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lost 3 lbs. in two weeks. For the first time in almost 2 years I saw the scale go down....it ROCKS! Before baby it would have taken me 10-20 lbs. to feel this good. Now I'm learning to celebrate the small victories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eat a lot better now that I understand how friggin long it takes to burn 400 calories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care how thin I get, I will never wear spandex pants. I admire the women at the gym who are able to rock the spandex.....they are the few, the proud (not the marines) who can actually wear it. It also helps that they have enormous breasts to distract the general public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not enjoy people who are very noisy when they work out. I get it, you lift weights, stop puffing all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I the only person who gets incredibly sweaty? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * * *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overheard: "Last week I couldn't even get off the toilet my legs hurt so much".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel her pain, I couldn't lift my arms to fix my hair. Typing this post is almost too hard......almost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1944907642215495189?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1944907642215495189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1944907642215495189' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1944907642215495189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1944907642215495189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/anecdotes-from-gym.html' title='Anecdotes from the gym'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5995879079749863542</id><published>2007-08-28T09:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T08:47:33.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Name Game</title><content type='html'>When it comes to a first, middle and last name I for one have been blessed. No, I am not going to share, but they are original enough to make me feel special but not so strange that I am made to feel like a freak (except for one person in college who took my initials and made it into a part of the female anatomy). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in a business where I come in constant contact with new people or at least their information, I have come across some strange ones. So in my continued effort to be thankful I bring you the following list (names I have come across):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thank you God my name is not....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First names:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pervez &lt;br /&gt;Jesus (the bar is too high)&lt;br /&gt;Kevin (was a girl)&lt;br /&gt;Dick&lt;br /&gt;Suckie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last names:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overfelt (especially bad as a woman)&lt;br /&gt;Weiner/ Weener&lt;br /&gt;Raper (he was a male)&lt;br /&gt;Niggaman (I have yet to say his last name out loud)&lt;br /&gt;Hussein&lt;br /&gt;Bush&lt;br /&gt;Binladen&lt;br /&gt;Stoner&lt;br /&gt;Stumpy (I'm already on the short side)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer: I am sorry if your name is part of the list. This name has made you the wonderful person you are but I as a weaker person never would have made it with that name....I can't run that fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5995879079749863542?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5995879079749863542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5995879079749863542' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5995879079749863542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5995879079749863542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/name-game.html' title='Name Game'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-2206828173483122230</id><published>2007-08-27T08:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T08:40:27.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Manic Monday</title><content type='html'>Why is it that the one (and virtually only) day I do not wear underwear also happens to be the day that I have a giant hole in the crotch of my pants?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello my name is Britney.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-2206828173483122230?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2206828173483122230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=2206828173483122230' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2206828173483122230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2206828173483122230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/manic-monday.html' title='Manic Monday'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-9058864377728430263</id><published>2007-08-22T14:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T14:43:45.305-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><title type='text'>Self image</title><content type='html'>I go to the bathroom, look in the mirror, look at my hair and think of this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RsyRNN-LKtI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/rwnnBSDBloQ/s1600-h/legolas.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RsyRNN-LKtI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/rwnnBSDBloQ/s320/legolas.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101612134178695890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As someone who fell asleep during this movie (I'm sorry, I was exhausted....yes it is an amazing groundbreaking film...blah, blah, blah) I find it a little concerning that I see myself as some sort of "male" fairy/ elf type thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sad part is that his hair is so much smoother and healthier looking than mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh great, now the fairy has better hair than me???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-9058864377728430263?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/9058864377728430263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=9058864377728430263' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9058864377728430263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9058864377728430263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/self-image.html' title='Self image'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RsyRNN-LKtI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/rwnnBSDBloQ/s72-c/legolas.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5687929461154865314</id><published>2007-08-21T13:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T13:41:44.947-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>No place like home?</title><content type='html'>For the past couple years I have been grappling with idea of where I want to settle down in terms of location. Before we had the baby and it was just us or just me Miami was the coolest place on earth. Great weather, hot people, materialism at its worst, all in all a good time. Now everything has changed. We don't spend our weekends on the beach or going out with friends at night (even though we could stand to go out here and there), our best hours are during the day light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our world is our daughter followed by family and friends. The question is: can a city make it harder/ easier to raise a child? I always fought this idea, I wanted to believe that I as the parent could mold be child. Now I am realizing that parenting is going to be hard, the hardest thing I have ever done and I might as well make it a little easier for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was raised in the suburbs of NYC. We lived in a fantastic upper middle class area where as children we never questioned if we were going to college we just thought of where (in my delusional childish mind I was a Harvard grad....hahahaha). Everyone had two cars, a garage, a backyard etc. Behind closed doors everyone had there problems and until I got older this was my American Dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always been financially driven. Until recently I wanted to start a business empire, be a part of something big. Then I became part of something even larger: I got married, had a kid and realized all &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; need is enough. I need to know that my child is going to be safe if I let her walk down the block by herself, I need enough money to pay my bills and take a vacation once in awhile, I need enough family around me so that I feel stability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get my wrong, I still love the finer things in life but now I know that those things are not going to make me happy (feel free to donate your millions, your houses and your cars). Looking at the faces of the people in my family and my friends and seeing those smiles is what drives me. This is why I go to work, this is why I deal with certain things in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I totally just went off on a tangent but I am realizing that Miami is not where I want to have my children grow. I want to live in a place where I can sit back, watch my children, watch my parents enjoying my children and realize that I have it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5687929461154865314?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5687929461154865314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5687929461154865314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5687929461154865314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5687929461154865314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/no-place-like-home.html' title='No place like home?'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-4484270137306256130</id><published>2007-08-17T12:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T12:53:03.168-05:00</updated><title type='text'>20/20</title><content type='html'>It may be time to get new glasses when:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-you see an old woman walking her dog while wearing a WWII war helmet only to drive a little closer and see that she is in fact wearing a sun visor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-you see three volleyball type things in a field only to see that in fact they are birds....that move...and are alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-you have to roam the parking lot at work for 5 minutes because you can no longer spot your car (or is that memory loss??).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-you and your mother spend your time asking each other "can you see what it says?  No, can you?  I can't, you squint and figure it out, I give up."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-4484270137306256130?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4484270137306256130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=4484270137306256130' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4484270137306256130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4484270137306256130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/2020.html' title='20/20'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-3643677479696530804</id><published>2007-08-17T10:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T10:22:39.507-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Musical mood</title><content type='html'>This is what I am currently listening to on repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1j5_7V0DMkA"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1j5_7V0DMkA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little melancholy is sometimes needed.  You better watch out or I'll whip out some Tori Amos and Sarah McLaughlin on your ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-3643677479696530804?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3643677479696530804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=3643677479696530804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3643677479696530804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3643677479696530804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/musical-mood.html' title='Musical mood'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8475700931752199580</id><published>2007-08-16T08:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T08:58:02.698-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><title type='text'>Brilliant</title><content type='html'>Such a clear example of the power of art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/B6rTkp1dek4"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/B6rTkp1dek4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visit &lt;a href="http://postsecret.blogspot.com"&gt;PostSecret&lt;/a&gt; to see more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8475700931752199580?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8475700931752199580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8475700931752199580' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8475700931752199580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8475700931752199580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/brilliant.html' title='Brilliant'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5879342241605278805</id><published>2007-08-08T08:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T08:22:01.672-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skyzi eyes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='design'/><title type='text'>Nothing left to say</title><content type='html'>Because I am shall we say tapped out emotionally I have very little to say at this point.  On the up side I finally made the time to start a design blog.  If you want to see what is catching my eye at the moment you can meet me over at &lt;a href="http://www.skyzieyes.blogspot.com"&gt;Skyzi Eyes&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also updated some recent Flickr pics.  Mostly muffin being sick and our trip to Orlando to have fun with the Husbands family.  All the children depicted are aunts and uncles.  They crack me up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5879342241605278805?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5879342241605278805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5879342241605278805' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5879342241605278805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5879342241605278805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/nothing-left-to-say.html' title='Nothing left to say'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8117412164021392815</id><published>2007-08-07T13:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T13:24:59.035-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><title type='text'>One phone call changes everything</title><content type='html'>My dad called, the doctors think he has Parkinson's. WTF, my daddy's sick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8117412164021392815?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8117412164021392815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8117412164021392815' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8117412164021392815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8117412164021392815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/one-phone-call-changes-everything.html' title='One phone call changes everything'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5989563832775249225</id><published>2007-08-07T07:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T12:58:06.397-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight loss'/><title type='text'>Feelin the burn</title><content type='html'>I have my orientation at the gym during lunch today. I am going to meet the equipment, make nice, etc. Apparently it take a full hour to meet all the nice machines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday while not working out I went to pick up a couple work out pants. With my legs in their current tree trunk status shorts are not going to be a great alternative. So I am set, ready to get my sweat on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that this is one of &lt;strong&gt;those&lt;/strong&gt; gyms. Because of my issue with not having a lot of time I have to work out on my lunch break. Because I work in a building off the main drag the only gym where it will take me less than half an hour to get to is in the building. This is not a gym that has multiple locations, what you see here is what you get. What this means is that they are able to charge 3 times the average membership fee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now let me tell you about the key feature that always captures my attention. The women who work out here are gorgeous. My office building is in a section of town that can be quite uppity so the majority of people working out during the day are falling under the category of "trophy wives". (I'm sorry if this term upsets anyone but I couldn't think of another way to put it) I can't compete, I'm not trying to compete but when a woman walks by and in my head I'm saying "DAMN" I can only imagine what that does to a man. Here is the real question: why don't these ladies sweat? Apparently I have acquired all the sweating genes for southern Florida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, maybe I'll update after lunch.....if I can feel my arms and am not sweating too bad. Wish me luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Of course I feel great, of course I should have done this sooner. It is almost comforting to feel my muscles burn, they are still there. buried. under fat. The key is that they will get un buried in good time. Or as the trainer said: you just got to slice the fat off, like a turkey slicer (he then proceeded to make slicing noises and waving his arms around like he works at the supermarket. I can't ever say the man wasn't peppy!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5989563832775249225?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5989563832775249225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5989563832775249225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5989563832775249225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5989563832775249225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/feelin-burn.html' title='Feelin the burn'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7585184928563169583</id><published>2007-08-02T08:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T09:08:35.044-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><title type='text'>Buy Kleenex stock NOW</title><content type='html'>I was so excited to start my regimen this week....before the plague hit my home. I'm not talking a mere cold, I am talking knock down drag out Chilean germs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After spending last weekend (the weekend before last) in Orlando with my in laws and their 6 kids (not including my husband) we got the funk. They have been living down in Chile for the past 2 years so seeing them is always fun but we ALWAYS get sick afterwards. If you hear reports of a small epidemic starting in Miami, it is so my family's fault. Everyone who has come into contact with us, spoken with us is sick. By reading this post you too could be feeling the sniffles coming on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have seen my daughter with a cold. This is an entirely different beast. For 48 hours she cried. My happy, smiley baby did nothing but whimper. No sleeping, just crying. After one evening of worrying that my child's brain was going to scramble because she was so hot we took her to the doctor. Double ear infection (it really made my day to see the doctor look in one of her ears and say "whoa, that one is bad" (dripping sarcasm)) with a severe head cold. Because her sinuses are draining she has a nice juicy cough. Because she is a tiny muffin she can't stop herself and for three days in a row has waited until I was holding her, waited until after she ate and then coughed until she barfed. Did I mention that my husband and I are sick as well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, there has been no exercise, no posting, no chatting with internet buddies, no speaking with "live" friends. Just walking around in a haze trying to not get barfed on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention how amazed the pediatrician was that my daughter could walk. Not just teeter but full on walk. Yes we are very proud, yes we know we had nothing to do with it and yes we are calling Harvard right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7585184928563169583?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7585184928563169583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7585184928563169583' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7585184928563169583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7585184928563169583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/08/buy-kleenex-stock-now.html' title='Buy Kleenex stock NOW'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-9121363391841493255</id><published>2007-07-27T14:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T14:24:40.445-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>It's on like Donkey Kong</title><content type='html'>I've done it. I have joined a gym. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been avoiding this topic like the plague. It has been the "elephant in the room"....and frankly I am tired of being that elephant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am caffeinated and feeling crack headed (baby has a cold= mommy gets no sleep) so I'm laying most of my cards on the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gained 75lbs with my pregnancy. To clarify for some of you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I only had one baby&lt;br /&gt;-It was 10 months ago&lt;br /&gt;-I could still wear my maternity clothes if I let myself&lt;br /&gt;-I was this heavy a couple years ago but went through great lengths to lose all the weight&lt;br /&gt;-I totally let myself go while pregnant and reverted to all my bad habits, didn't exercise etc.&lt;br /&gt;-I loved that for the first time in my life people were encouraging me to eat instead of giving the "are you really going to eat that??" stare down....so duh I ate it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am miserable at this weight. After having tasted the healthy, athletic, self control happy life, I am bitter to be back in this place. I won't buy clothing or spend any money on myself because I don't want to stay this way. So basically for months I have been restricted to about 3 pairs of pants and a couple shirts. It is not pretty people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not focused on a particular weight or size. I need to be healthy again. I am literally falling apart with this weight back on. I am a less productive human being like this. I want to glow again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know so many of you feel the same way...I read your blogs. We should have a bloggers biggest loser. If you want to participate email me at skyzi(at)aol(dot)com. I have no idea why I wrote it like that but that's how I see other people do it. I also think that there should be monetary incentive. If we can get just 10 people to participate at $20/head that is $200 for the winner. Tell me what would motivate you, how long you think it should last etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One additional note: My baby came out totally perfect so I would do it all over again. She was 9lbs, 11oz. I will never gain that kind of weight with any future pregnancy's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-9121363391841493255?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/9121363391841493255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=9121363391841493255' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9121363391841493255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9121363391841493255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/its-on-like-donkey-kong.html' title='It&apos;s on like Donkey Kong'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7154734197765189116</id><published>2007-07-26T07:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T07:59:13.339-05:00</updated><title type='text'>crawled into my brain</title><content type='html'>be back sometime....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I get overwhelmed with life I get very quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very. Quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I say everything is fine.  I am fine, fine, fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am throwing one of my best friends a baby shower this weekend so all of my "fine-ness" is being compounded because I procrastinate.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be lovely, I will be a good host, everyone will have fun and love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am FINE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7154734197765189116?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7154734197765189116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7154734197765189116' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7154734197765189116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7154734197765189116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/crawled-into-my-brain.html' title='crawled into my brain'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5179514450450659501</id><published>2007-07-19T10:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T10:22:54.479-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Because I finally loaded all our videos</title><content type='html'>you are privy to another priceless moment demonstrating how enchanting I am to my daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-6385514946216046545&amp;hl=en" flashvars=""&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muahahahaha.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5179514450450659501?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5179514450450659501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5179514450450659501' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5179514450450659501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5179514450450659501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/because-i-finally-loaded-all-our-videos.html' title='Because I finally loaded all our videos'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8009826967872724710</id><published>2007-07-17T18:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T08:02:34.322-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby pics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Muffin on the move</title><content type='html'>I have totally been holding out on some news (feel free to only watch the first 5 seconds):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=1158476670696411313&amp;hl=en" flashvars=""&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did anyone else find this frightening? I don't even want to show you how fast she moves now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8009826967872724710?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8009826967872724710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8009826967872724710' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8009826967872724710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8009826967872724710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/muffin-on-move.html' title='Muffin on the move'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7430329449073011942</id><published>2007-07-16T12:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T13:02:03.162-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Meema</title><content type='html'>No, I didn't fall in....I just lost some of my internet dedication, for a moment....or two.  That and my husbands grandma passed away.  I had an eloquent write up in my head for this woman.....but it all escapes me right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was a hard core Texan, she loved her black eyed peas (not the band), her yellow roses and hated those damn Yankees (not the team).  The first time she met me she told me how happy she was that I wasn't a colored girl and that I wasn't some crazy girl from New York....and she was so serious.  So I kept it to myself that I was from a Cuban family from NY, because did I mention she was a Texan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This woman had spunk and spirit.  She also held the role of #1 cheerleader for my husband, he could do nothing wrong.  I cried like a weenie this weekend because it is so hard to lose people in your life who make you feel like you can do anything.  Growing up he didn't have enough of those people.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loved her family, loved God and was wicked smart.  She was 83 and had a doctorate in nursing.  Her mail read Dr and Mr.  For her generation that was unheard of.  She had three degrees, two kids, a husband and a partridge in a pear tree.  She even wrote a book on grieving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to miss her for her spunk and all the gifts she gave my family.  I will also smile everytime I think of how I am that damn Yankee girl her grandson brought home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7430329449073011942?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7430329449073011942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7430329449073011942' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7430329449073011942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7430329449073011942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/meema.html' title='Meema'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5079503230926058543</id><published>2007-07-09T07:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T07:21:22.978-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>#5,126&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WARNING: The following material may be offensive, crass and cause you to question parenthood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning yet again I was blown away by what I now do in the name of parenthood.  Can I get a drum roll??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat on the toilet and took a crap with my daughter sitting in my lap while singing and waving toilet paper in the air like a flag.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and this isn't the worse thing I have had to do in order to maintain my daughters attention.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5079503230926058543?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5079503230926058543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5079503230926058543' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5079503230926058543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5079503230926058543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/5126-warning-following-material-may-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-1078505229619930303</id><published>2007-07-06T14:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T14:26:13.891-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decorating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>Vintage</title><content type='html'>No time to write, or to think.  I must find an affordable vintage national parks poster. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why you ask?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a large couch, on a large wall with a large stark ugly space above it.  My husband is in love with parks period (he will be completing his Masters in Parks &amp; Recreation [if you know &lt;strong&gt;anyone&lt;/strong&gt; with a parks connection let me know......I love you long time, jk....but not really]).  I already have a couple original posters throughout the apartment but I feel like it would really look great in there and tie in thematically and color wise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My design juices are filling my brain and on the verge of overflowing.  This week has been filled with design blogs and color swatches and design shows.  There is absolutely such a thing as too much input/information. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure all these extra curricular pursuits have nothing to do with my medical exams......yes I am avoiding talking about it until further notice.  I know you want to know now but you will just have to wait, like the huge empty wall above my couch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-1078505229619930303?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1078505229619930303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=1078505229619930303' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1078505229619930303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/1078505229619930303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/vintage.html' title='Vintage'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-3318624210967049371</id><published>2007-07-05T07:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T07:16:25.322-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight'/><title type='text'>Dressing</title><content type='html'>After getting dressed today the following thoughts went through my head:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, this sweater shrank in the dryer.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG, could I be getting fatter????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I actually believe myself when I said this shirt shrank??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say shirt shrank 4 times fast....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if I just try to stretch out the fabric.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn cotton!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-3318624210967049371?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3318624210967049371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=3318624210967049371' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3318624210967049371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3318624210967049371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/dressing.html' title='Dressing'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-9114427690136919408</id><published>2007-06-29T08:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T08:12:11.111-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Who is the parent?</title><content type='html'>When is it that the pedestals where I held my parents on cracked, crumbled and got swept away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In recent years my parents have gone through rough patches.  These patches are not just with their relationship but have also involved finances, location and a variety of other things that I am too emotionally exhausted to discuss.  The thing that really kills me about all of this is that....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ALWAYS come to their rescue! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can give you my love, I can give you my time, but PLEASE don't take my money.  I have worked sooooo hard to stay out of debt, save for things, save for a home, be responsible and all that adult stuff, why does it seem like I am the only one?  I am supposed to be the child, the one who goes to you for help.  I hate that the roles are reversed and it eats away at my soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have told you before that it was the last straw, the last time I could financially help you.  I have moved away from you to draw this line.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HANDLE your business!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-9114427690136919408?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/9114427690136919408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=9114427690136919408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9114427690136919408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/9114427690136919408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/who-is-parent.html' title='Who is the parent?'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-6507620224015490209</id><published>2007-06-26T13:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T13:50:39.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't know what to say to you because there is nothing I can say to make it better.  The baby that you have wanted, prayed for, been joyful for is no longer with you.  This is your second &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;disappointment&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....you deserve a baby.  You are a good mother.....I can't even fathom your pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even want to talk about it because I am so scared that one day it will happen to me, like it has happened to so many of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-6507620224015490209?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6507620224015490209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=6507620224015490209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6507620224015490209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6507620224015490209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-dont-know-what-to-say-to-you-because.html' title=''/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8322542076353174791</id><published>2007-06-21T14:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T14:39:08.910-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><title type='text'>I want to draw outside the lines!</title><content type='html'>I have always thought of myself as a creative/artistic person.  This does not mean that I can draw a picture of you and actually have it look like you.  I always had that creative outlet.  In high school I physically made art favoring mixed media then I went into photography.  I love capturing an image and being able to enjoy it later on.  My travel pictures are some of my most treasured &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;possessions&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to college I majored in art history and continued to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dabble&lt;/span&gt; in studio arts.    I always loved art, the energy that surrounds artsy people.  Creativity is so inspiring!  Even through this whole process I always knew that I would never make a living as a "creative" person.  Don't get me wrong, I am creative in my day to day but it is in the sales arena.  I feel like I have always &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;treaded&lt;/span&gt; a fine line of being overly responsible, maintaining a corporate America job all the while looking at the other side of leaving my "steady" job and running off to do my own thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day I know I wouldn't make a good "starving artist".  That could be my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;subconscious&lt;/span&gt; talking myself out of it but I do think that it is accurate.  I crave stability, a home that is my own, adequate school for my kids...nothing too crazy.  I also crave something that intrigues my artistic mind, something out of the box something where I can feel extraordinary every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day my husband asked why I didn't take pictures anymore, didn't paint.  Then he went further and said that he had never seen me do any of those things, and he was right.  Since he has met me I have put all emotional/ spiritual pursuits on hold and I don't really know why.  I have been busy assembling my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;life as&lt;/span&gt; I thought it should be: husband, baby, home, work....I have neglected an area that gives me a lot of my spark, part of me that I used to define myself with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day I take hundreds of mental pictures, enjoy the small things, want to preserve that mental picture.  I think it is about time I start capturing those things again and with that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;recapture&lt;/span&gt; a part of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8322542076353174791?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8322542076353174791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8322542076353174791' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8322542076353174791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8322542076353174791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-want-to-draw-outside-lines.html' title='I want to draw outside the lines!'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-6474245326042028106</id><published>2007-06-19T07:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T07:48:53.299-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brithday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>They say it's your birthday</title><content type='html'>So it's my b-day today.  No big plans, no I do not feel different.  I remember my birthday last year, it was the first year where I was blue on my birthday.  I was in a really fowl mood actually.....it could be the fact that it was the heart of summer and I was very pregnant but whatever.  Last year was the first time that I couldn't party like a rock star in honor of my birth but this year with my daughter now here everything is different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited for her to wake up and we celebrated mommy's birthday on the floor in her room.  Tonight we will have a quiet family dinner complete with desert and it will be perfect.  I have everything I need, no crazy gifts required.  When my husband asked what I wanted I told him a bookshelf....to me a perfect gift.  I frequently get caught up in life's BS.  Today is a perfect day to think of all the things that I have yet to accomplish and all the things that I have already done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have any birthday traditions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-6474245326042028106?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6474245326042028106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=6474245326042028106' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6474245326042028106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6474245326042028106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/they-say-its-your-birthday.html' title='They say it&apos;s your birthday'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-2715763870023281860</id><published>2007-06-15T09:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T11:28:48.210-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><title type='text'>The Odyssey</title><content type='html'>So we moved, at least we started to.  The apartment was not in the shape we expected it to be in so repairs are being done as we speak.  Rain plagued our movers (my family&amp; I) so we got 1/4 of the stuff moved.  The tubs had to be re-fiberglassed (that is the technical term) so now there is the stank of paint and tub.  Our first night without the baby (hanging with G&amp;G while the paint dried) I had envisioned as a spectacularly romantic time with 70's porn music playing in the background as two young parents enjoyed some alone time.....wink, wink.  It actually ended with two exhausted people lying next to each other passed out in a fume enhanced sleep only to be woken by emergency vehicles now audible with the open windows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am tired, mentally fuzzy (I'm blaming the fumes) and my apartment does not look like a page in a magazine......yet.  On top of it all I have no internet and for some, even worse I have no TV, so until that gets fixed I will say good mornin, good afternoon and good night..... I have a very sexy weekend filled with boxes, brooms and clorox.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-2715763870023281860?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2715763870023281860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=2715763870023281860' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2715763870023281860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2715763870023281860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/odyssey.html' title='The Odyssey'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-6602121184160263256</id><published>2007-06-13T07:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T08:01:22.102-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Movin on up....to the east side</title><content type='html'>....to a deluxe apartment in the sky.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, we are moving. To let you in on an internet secret because many of you do not know me "in real life".......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(whispers) we have been living with my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my husband weeks away from finishing his masters and with the baby we thought we would save some money, but now we need to get back to our own space. We have been with them (my husband tells me) 1 year and 4 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I reveal another secret ( DO NOT TELL MY HUSBAND....dammit, I think he reads this blog....DOH!!). The time here has been a blessing. Besides the headache of sharing my space and not always being an adult we have been so lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear on all that is holy that I would not have emotionally been able to handle new motherhood without my mom being there. She is my saving grace. I didn't realize that until I had my daughter, and now I am SO grateful. I am able to work and function because I know my daughter is safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having both my parents light up seeing my daughter (Lord knows they don't do that when I walk in the room?!?) when she comes in the room has given me a simple joy. Free babysitting and date night has given me even more joy! My brother who I had no large expectations for when it came to the baby has become super uncle, if there was a cape I would get it for him. The three of them (who currently live in the house) have helped us in countless ways and given my daughter a security that so many children lack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today is our last day as this extended family under one roof.....and today I am going to allow myself to mourn what was....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and get excited for our own place!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-6602121184160263256?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6602121184160263256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=6602121184160263256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6602121184160263256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/6602121184160263256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/movin-on-upto-east-side.html' title='Movin on up....to the east side'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-2292214231401979535</id><published>2007-06-11T14:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T14:44:33.656-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muffin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Muffin love</title><content type='html'>This morning she "slept in" past her usually 5:30 am wake up. And while she was still dreaming I was missing her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was in her crib, perfectly healthy and happy but I was still missing her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That little baby with her beautiful smile, chubby cheeks and laughing squeal has captivated me and left me love stunned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it would be good, but I didn't know it would be this good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-2292214231401979535?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2292214231401979535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=2292214231401979535' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2292214231401979535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/2292214231401979535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/muffin-love.html' title='Muffin love'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-828570634879786221</id><published>2007-06-07T20:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T20:59:56.174-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>All grown up</title><content type='html'>My brother is significantly younger than me. Because of this fact I have been known to baby him and in my mind he is still a little boy who rubs his fingers together to tell me that he wants raisins, God forbid he would harm his vocal cords speaking. Even though I still see him as a child he has grown up, he is moving on and he no longer needs me to translate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having him around and be able to watch him blossom, have a girlfriend, become an uncle has been a privilege but also a reality check. As I sat through his graduation, helped him pick out his tux for prom while taking pictures I realized that I am no longer in that stage of life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was never one of those kids that said that high school was the time of life. I liked it, loved my friends but was happy to move on. College was also good times but not the end all be all. Since college without that harsh divide of time separating my life stages time has flown. I was soooo comfortable with my time being carved out for me. Having to define everything myself is almost too much freedom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a baby has once again given me a ticking time line: When I should have another baby, when I should be moved into a larger home, when I should have x amount of money in the bank, when I should decide whether or not to send my daughter to public school, when I should have it all figured out (ha!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That poor boy, now I am going to have to hunt him down to give him a hug.....because no matter how messed up we can be at times that is how we roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rmi3Wn1d22I/AAAAAAAAABc/gr3JvjYa8v0/s1600-h/CIMG1666.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rmi3Wn1d22I/AAAAAAAAABc/gr3JvjYa8v0/s320/CIMG1666.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073506579511106402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom &amp; brother Graduation '07&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-828570634879786221?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/828570634879786221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=828570634879786221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/828570634879786221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/828570634879786221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/all-grown-up.html' title='All grown up'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/Rmi3Wn1d22I/AAAAAAAAABc/gr3JvjYa8v0/s72-c/CIMG1666.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8686394514461405168</id><published>2007-06-06T08:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T08:19:28.504-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Flash back</title><content type='html'>This is the song I caught my mom singing to the muffin yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Clap hands, clap hands till Daddy comes home&lt;br /&gt;Cause Daddy has money and mommy has none..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started squawking about "how could you say that, blah, blah, blah", she told me it was a song women of the 50's sang. Because that is soooo not my reality I find it funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now she sings:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Clap hands, clap hands till Mommy comes home&lt;br /&gt;cause Mommy has money and grandma has none...."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8686394514461405168?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8686394514461405168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8686394514461405168' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8686394514461405168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8686394514461405168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/flash-back.html' title='Flash back'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5550120842770039212</id><published>2007-06-04T12:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T12:41:50.634-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Changin</title><content type='html'>Why is it so hard to accept the things you can't change?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secretly I think I can change anything.&lt;br /&gt;I want to help people,&lt;br /&gt;help themselves.&lt;br /&gt;I shed tears of frustration,&lt;br /&gt;because I know happiness is there.&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if I am looking to help others&lt;br /&gt;I won't have to look at myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this thinkin is hurtin my headin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5550120842770039212?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5550120842770039212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5550120842770039212' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5550120842770039212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5550120842770039212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/changin.html' title='Changin'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-3573046449201296507</id><published>2007-06-01T07:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T07:29:50.292-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurricanes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='florida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Guess who's back</title><content type='html'>Today is the beginning of hurricane season down here in S. Florida. What does that mean?? Tax free shopping for hurricane accessories! It is as exciting as it sounds. I guess I should pick up some batteries and flash lights since that seems like the responsible parenty thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember last year being so scared that I would have to give birth in our home office (the only room with no windows) or worse, be stuck in the house with no air conditioning. I took comfort in the fact that in our Lamaze class there was a rumor that if you were close to your due date they would let you come to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For most of you the thought of being in a hospital for no reason other than air conditioning sounds stupid, a waste.....YOU would be wrong. Once you have spent weeks at a time with no power which equals no hot water and everyone you live with/near has pissed you off so much that you are ready to walk miles to hang out with other friends let me know how hanging out at a hospital sounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently my mind is already overheating. It is so interesting how things that never scared me are now frightening now that I have the muffin. I would drive during a hurricane to the only bar that was open because hurricane parties were the best! No one has work, you have no where to be, we actually prayed for storms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You couldn't pay me to get in car before/during/right after a storm. In our new place every room has windows, there is no where to hide. I will give everything at this point to keep my family safe. It is a great feeling to be able to think beyond yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-3573046449201296507?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3573046449201296507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=3573046449201296507' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3573046449201296507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3573046449201296507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/guess-whos-back.html' title='Guess who&apos;s back'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-8323377419711814211</id><published>2007-05-29T08:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T08:32:56.051-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>You can't make me leave</title><content type='html'>For our long weekend we ventured out of town....again....by car.....with the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you without baby experience this means one thing: a cranky angry baby. The muffin who is usually a delicious ball of joy turns into an angry car seat bound ball of wahhhhhh. Five hours is just too damn long to be in a car with a baby who can no longer sleep for five hours straight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a great trip because we got to get together with family members we rarely see and hear "she is so big, she is beautiful, etc". I for one cannot tire of hearing how wonderful my child is, because she is and I do like to share the magic that is the muffin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One person who was not feeling any magic was room 205, the unfortunate person who was next to us while our daughter did her angry hyena impressions as she screamed her 2:30 am wake up call. Because I felt guilty I would pick her up so now we are back to square one with the whole sleep thing. On the plus side the world is a beautiful, crisp, quiet place from 2:30-6 am in northern Florida (I would actually be quite happy to never have experienced that but I guess you gotta look for the bright side!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As is always the case: I need a vacation from my vacation. Did I mention that we are moving??? That is a big beautiful post in itself, but for now I bid you adieu! (I really hope that is the right word......whatever....ciao baby!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-8323377419711814211?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8323377419711814211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=8323377419711814211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8323377419711814211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/8323377419711814211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/05/you-cant-make-me-leave.html' title='You can&apos;t make me leave'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7239191680122249518</id><published>2007-05-24T14:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T14:49:32.605-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>Proceed with caution</title><content type='html'>While looking for this video:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rezHrKzabZE" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to accurately depict the song that has been eating at my brain today I stumbled across this video:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/g7cmqWVpu-o" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do need some warning before soft porn comes on my computer screen at work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7239191680122249518?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7239191680122249518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7239191680122249518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7239191680122249518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7239191680122249518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/05/proceed-with-caution.html' title='Proceed with caution'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-5263084612579479373</id><published>2007-05-23T14:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T14:39:49.324-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>Let's talk about sex baby</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I figured now that I am married, have a baby and am "settled" I thought that I was done with those uncomfortable mom questions. So today while I was getting ready to leave the baby with my mom she says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you have sex with people before(my husband's name)??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uhhhhhhhh.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear I would have told the woman I was still a virgin if only I didn't have my daughter in my arms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like you may need background. I was raised in a very religious home. Looking back I am glad I was raised with those nice values but needless to say sex was not a discussion. It was implied that until the good Lord God came down and blessed me with a husband, sex was not something I would be partaking in (all the heathens say muahahahaha).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I have been bred to think of sex before marriage as a mortal sin I realize that for the sake of my female children (no worries, only one right now being that I can only have sex for procreation ;) I am going to have to be more comfortable discussing the topic in a less scandalous context. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I dish with my girlfriends/ guy friends about sex and enjoy sexuality but in terms of discussing it as a serious topic, never! I swear I am turning red just writing about the topic. My husband has already let me know all those "girly" issues are mine to handle. I don't see how sex is merely a girly issue considering all parties involved but I agreed. He will just have to second me when I tell her how evil and perverted men are, except of course for her perfect father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking a mental consensus of how my friends parents dealt with the sex talk doesn't help. I had one friend whose mom would tell her "NS, NS" before she would go on dates with her then boyfriend, to translate it means No Sex, No Sex. I had other friends whose parents bought them sex books as pre teens and instructed how to use condoms with bananas. Then I had another friend whose parents had a naked people book in the basement that of course we found as young teens and would stare at in confusion and interest as opposed to lust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now that you know maybe a little too much about me it's your turn. How was sex spun to you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-5263084612579479373?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5263084612579479373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=5263084612579479373' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5263084612579479373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/5263084612579479373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/05/lets-talk-about-sex-baby.html' title='Let&apos;s talk about sex baby'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-7502292829290735217</id><published>2007-05-22T14:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T14:30:34.179-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Breastfeeding'/><title type='text'>My Boobs!</title><content type='html'>Ok, now that I am hitting the almost eight month mark I have noticed that people are continually asking me "when are you going to stop breastfeeding". With the amount of questions I am receiving you would think I was whipping them out every two seconds with my kid strapped to my back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the exception of my boss (he walked into my office while I was mid pump even though I had a sign on the door saying DO NOT COME IN....yes it was awkward, yes we both turned beet red and yes my whole office knew two seconds later) and immediate family/ close friends I have yet to expose myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not breastfeed in public unless it is an emergency (like when we went to NYC and my husband decided I HAD to breastfeed at the Mets game, in reality I think he just wanted to see my boobs on the jumbotron) so I am not pushing my breastfeeding reality on anyone uncomfortable seeing a boob (and yes even though I breast feed it makes me uncomfortable to see someone else doing it??).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why?? Why do you (no, not you.....YOU!) care if I still do it? Why as my DR. are you looking like I have three heads when I tell you I still feed her the boob? Isn't it doctor recommended?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Additional facts/ statements:&lt;br /&gt;-She does not have teeth&lt;br /&gt;-When she does, I do not know what I will do&lt;br /&gt;-Because I give her the teet (as my husband likes to call it) at age 7 3/4 months it does not mean I will be breastfeeding at age 10.&lt;br /&gt;-She is eating Gerber foods&lt;br /&gt;-I do give her formula when I have no pumped milk&lt;br /&gt;-I get crazy on the weekends and don't always pump&lt;br /&gt;-I am not talented enough to pump both boobs at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;-Therefore pumping does take forever and is slightly cow like.&lt;br /&gt;-It does not hurt&lt;br /&gt;-Yes it hurts the first couple weeks&lt;br /&gt;-No they are not the same boobs I had before baby but they were not so perfect to begin with, that's why that have those fancy push up bras!&lt;br /&gt;-I do not think my baby is better that other babies because she is breastfed. I think she is better for a variety of other reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmphf!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-7502292829290735217?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7502292829290735217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=7502292829290735217' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7502292829290735217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/7502292829290735217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-boobs.html' title='My Boobs!'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-3199936464317969164</id><published>2007-05-18T10:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T09:01:42.261-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby pics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>Where's my baby?</title><content type='html'>I finally uploaded pictures. Yes a couple weeks/ months late but I'm trying here. Going through the pictures was scary. How did this muffin:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RkxTTqWKKBI/AAAAAAAAAA8/4OTQ5j8DRx0/s1600-h/501452622_a3ac4d72dd_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RkxTTqWKKBI/AAAAAAAAAA8/4OTQ5j8DRx0/s320/501452622_a3ac4d72dd_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065515278134814738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;turn into this muffin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RkxTjKWKKCI/AAAAAAAAABE/TzbBvd8pDOU/s1600-h/501453044_cb846ee747_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RkxTjKWKKCI/AAAAAAAAABE/TzbBvd8pDOU/s320/501453044_cb846ee747_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065515544422787106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;turn into this muffin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RkxTsKWKKDI/AAAAAAAAABM/KscbQV9r7aA/s1600-h/501487667_51996ee2b6_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RkxTsKWKKDI/AAAAAAAAABM/KscbQV9r7aA/s320/501487667_51996ee2b6_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065515699041609778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and finally turn into this deliciously perfect muffin???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RkxT2qWKKEI/AAAAAAAAABU/L9TqpYndOt0/s1600-h/501454900_eff9dc421f_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RkxT2qWKKEI/AAAAAAAAABU/L9TqpYndOt0/s320/501454900_eff9dc421f_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065515879430236226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-3199936464317969164?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3199936464317969164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=3199936464317969164' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3199936464317969164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/3199936464317969164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/05/wheres-my-baby.html' title='Where&apos;s my baby?'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/RkxTTqWKKBI/AAAAAAAAAA8/4OTQ5j8DRx0/s72-c/501452622_a3ac4d72dd_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2586500918986949091.post-4349459241242311596</id><published>2007-05-17T08:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T07:04:40.826-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Let me clear my throat</title><content type='html'>I have noticed that a lot of my blog titles are lines from songs. On a daily basis I have a song that plays repeatedly in my head, my theme song for the day if you will. Today it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yqfCluBH3qY"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yqfCluBH3qY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has actually been in my head for weeks. With the baby making that little coughing sound my husband and myself have been amusing ourselves by saying "let me clear my throat". I swear it is just as funny as the first time we said it. Yes, maybe it is one of those "you had to be there" moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is your theme song??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2586500918986949091-4349459241242311596?l=skyzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4349459241242311596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2586500918986949091&amp;postID=4349459241242311596' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4349459241242311596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2586500918986949091/posts/default/4349459241242311596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skyzi.blogspot.com/2007/05/let-me-clear-my-throat.html' title='Let me clear my throat'/><author><name>Skyzi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16005577135419076586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/__GbqTcr0BR8/SJDABXJnzBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Nw59GodTOTE/S220/501455446_9f1e11c4a3_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
