<?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-20040769</id><updated>2011-12-03T15:49:44.549-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Popsicle Toes</title><subtitle type='html'>Yup, I have 'em.  But everything else is as warm as hot apple pie (it might have something to do w/the peri-menopausal thing going on w/me.)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>107</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-7265226054387807405</id><published>2010-03-26T07:27:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T07:35:25.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time . . .</title><content type='html'>I've been caught up in the facebook world and have just started to revisit some of my blogger friends.  So I tell a blogger friend, 'hey, long time no see and btw if you're on facebook, look me and send me a friend request.'  Yeah, he does and I ignore it 'cause I don't know who this person is.  I feel so horrible!  LOL.  So hopefully he'll send me another request 'cause I don't know his real name (he knows mine).  You know how the blogger world is . . anonymity was how we posted w/out being judged.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So March is just about over . . how weird is that!??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-7265226054387807405?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/7265226054387807405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=7265226054387807405' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/7265226054387807405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/7265226054387807405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2010/03/long-time.html' title='Long time . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-214081880997529891</id><published>2007-10-25T07:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T10:12:10.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Should have been all about my BOYS, but actually turned out to be my GIRLS!!</title><content type='html'>I had one of the best weekends of my life last weekend and it's 'cause I have the best friends EVER!! My beloved boys let me down (and in front of my second most hated team, cowgirls being first), but I have to say, those dang bronco fans were fun. I wanted to not like any of them ('cause that's how I am), but I ended up loving all we encountered (except grumpy 'ole man and woman in front of us who had no business being there). Memories for the book, that's all I gotta say.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's all about the "towel"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDEZZFH9OI/AAAAAAAAAAs/_OyAwBKtmCM/s1600-h/DSC00608.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDEZZFH9OI/AAAAAAAAAAs/_OyAwBKtmCM/s320/DSC00608.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125312316455777506" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morning started out with the girls whining big time 'cause it was snowing. You shoulda heard 'em. CRY BABIES!! They annoyed me but thankfully the room we stayed in was a suite so I went to the other room and watched pre-game football highlights and removed myself from the cry baby sally's. They eventually formed a plan that included a trip to Target to buy extra layers of clothing. It only got better from there. We decided to eat fish tacos at Rubios (my favorite fast food restaurant that I thought was only in San Diego), after we loaded up on goodies from Target. We soon headed to Invesco Field. AWESOME!! Found a parking lot right away and met some of the nicest STEELER fans who invited us to tailgate w/them (which we did).  But soon it was getting close to game time and I wanted to head in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me w/girls, holding my cherished ticket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDBGpFH9NI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hdUKFiUwPpc/s1600-h/DSC00624.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDBGpFH9NI/AAAAAAAAAAk/hdUKFiUwPpc/s320/DSC00624.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125308695798346962" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;same girls who were whining that morning . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDFyJFH9PI/AAAAAAAAAA0/kEly1JxYCK8/s1600-h/DSC00627.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDFyJFH9PI/AAAAAAAAAA0/kEly1JxYCK8/s320/DSC00627.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125313841169167602" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our view of "my boys"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDGvpFH9QI/AAAAAAAAAA8/x7IsblRYA2Q/s1600-h/DSC00630.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDGvpFH9QI/AAAAAAAAAA8/x7IsblRYA2Q/s320/DSC00630.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125314897731122434" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i loved being here . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDH55FH9SI/AAAAAAAAABM/GSuICqlfPsI/s1600-h/DSC00638.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDH55FH9SI/AAAAAAAAABM/GSuICqlfPsI/s320/DSC00638.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125316173336409378" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quick story . . . this pic was taken after karen (in black coat) fell over the seats in front of us.   she was cheering for the broncos after they scored, and she lost her balance.  if you look closely, you'll see tears in our eyes from laughing AT HER (that's what she gets). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDKGpFH9TI/AAAAAAAAABU/8ZPQmAg_Tk8/s1600-h/DSC00685.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDKGpFH9TI/AAAAAAAAABU/8ZPQmAg_Tk8/s320/DSC00685.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125318591402997042" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what else can I say . . .one of my best trips ever!!  Got to see my Steelers play!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-214081880997529891?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/214081880997529891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=214081880997529891' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/214081880997529891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/214081880997529891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2007/10/should-have-been-all-about-my-boys-but.html' title='Should have been all about my BOYS, but actually turned out to be my GIRLS!!'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AHekqs0iTR8/RyDEZZFH9OI/AAAAAAAAAAs/_OyAwBKtmCM/s72-c/DSC00608.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-6339158335448256812</id><published>2007-10-17T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T10:47:52.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Could it be . . .</title><content type='html'>my attitude?? I got pulled over by the military police yesterday (work on a military base) and got wrote up for speeding. Possibly it was my answering her questions sarcastically that I will now be paying an $84 dollar ticket!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mp: do you know why you've been pulled over?&lt;br /&gt;me: not really . . . (attitudeeee)&lt;br /&gt;mp: you were speeding, going 34 in a 25.&lt;br /&gt;me: that's speeding??? (attitudeeee)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's 'cause I'm a woman and so were both the mp's that pulled me over (you know - we can get kinda bitcy w/each other). Oh yeah, they pulled me over in my work parking lot . . . that was nice too. Hi co-workers, yeah, it's me, getting a ticket . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-6339158335448256812?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/6339158335448256812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=6339158335448256812' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/6339158335448256812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/6339158335448256812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2007/10/could-it-be.html' title='Could it be . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-6971951506022386552</id><published>2007-10-12T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T08:47:00.964-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF . . .</title><content type='html'>Why do we love friday's so much? For me, and this really shows my age, it's 'cause I know I get to sleep in on the weekend. I know to some, sleeping in is a waste of time, but to me, I actually get energized and feel I can take on the new week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's some more randomness . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- next weekend is my girls weekend. we're headed to denver to watch my beloved steelers play the broncos. can't think of anything sweeter than a 'W' for the steelers at invesco field!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- every year in the fall (green chili season) mom stalks up on her stash of fresh chili by peeling and bagging two gunny sacks full. i went and helped her a couple nights ago and so have been eating this delectable treat since. fry up some corn tortillas and add chili and cheese, yummers . . . doesn't take much to make this girl happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- baby girl, emma june, turns 8 this weekend. its hard to believe my sons are older, but now my niece is too? it freaks me out that time really does fly, the older i get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- yesterday at work, a co-worker and i cleaned files out of 10 long file drawers with stuff from 1992. left 12 bags of recyclable paper and 5 trashcans full of crap. budget people . . . we love our paperwork!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- i used to be wonderful w/puzzles (the brain tease type).  well this week a girlfriend brought me a nine piece puzzle (3x3 squares) of hot air balloons.  it took me &lt;strong&gt;three days &lt;/strong&gt;to figure it out.  now granted i am at work and didn't spend more than a few minutes at a time w/it, but three days!!???  sucking brain - she ain't what she used to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- i get email from several of the catalogs i buy from on a routine basis.  this morning i received one from one of my favs and was finding things i loved.  started my list and had the shopping bag filling up, but then, i stopped.  i actually stopped and closed it w/out buying anything.  weird!  i must be going on a trip soon . . . :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peace out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-6971951506022386552?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/6971951506022386552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=6971951506022386552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/6971951506022386552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/6971951506022386552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2007/10/tgif.html' title='TGIF . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-4061337052728976807</id><published>2007-10-07T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T10:09:22.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Know what sucks?????</title><content type='html'>NM football, that's what.  It so sucks living in New Mexico when you want to watch STEELER football!!  You know they're all cowgirl or horse fans who decide this sh*$.....RRGGGGG!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-4061337052728976807?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/4061337052728976807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=4061337052728976807' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/4061337052728976807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/4061337052728976807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2007/10/know-what-sucks.html' title='Know what sucks?????'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-6307083909331809495</id><published>2007-08-09T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T12:52:00.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been awhile . . .</title><content type='html'>I know, but for some reason I feel like writing today.  Not about anything in particular, but just feel like saying hi.  HI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a busy summer.  Been playing alot.  Did my annual San Diego trip and as usual, that place is magic.  Also have gone to the 'lake' w/the Shawski's (fag and her family).  If you wanna see some great pics, my girl 'ms. brit' has some pictures posted on her blog.  Been to two concerts this summer, John Legend (AWESOME) and Heart (Ann and Nancy still have it!).  Both concerts my girl fag, went w/me and vice versa (she took me to Heart, I took her to John Legend).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I'm shaking in my boots about now, is a trip my girls and I will be taking in October.  We'll be heading to Denver to see the five time superbowl champs Pittsburgh Steelers play the Broncos.  OMG I can't wait!  Yes it'll be wonderful to be w/my girls, but come on, to be able to watch the Pittsburgh Steelers . . . makes this girl quiver thinking about it!  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My baby is leaving me - he's leaving ABQ and moving to Austin.  I know he's been out of his mama's house for over two years now, but geez, this is making me feel shaky.  Yes I have family there (the best kind of family too . . . the kind that will be there for him no matter what).  But still, I'll really miss him.  I just hope this new job will really take him places - he so loves what he's doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this post is a start - we'll see if I keep it up.  I've missed checking in on everyone, but recently did a quick browse of everyone on my daily visit's list (those that are still active).  It was great to see some of the posts and I won't stay a stalker, I'll comment again once I start making it routine.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peace out . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-6307083909331809495?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/6307083909331809495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=6307083909331809495' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/6307083909331809495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/6307083909331809495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2007/08/its-been-awhile.html' title='It&apos;s been awhile . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116786473589113564</id><published>2007-01-03T15:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T15:52:15.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apology</title><content type='html'>Can I just apologize now to everyone . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just not feeling this blog anymore.  I do enjoy reading others, but I'm a bad blogger.  I'm going on sabbatical for awhile . . .maybe permanently, but I'll play that by ear.  (what does that mean....play it by ear....???)  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love you all . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116786473589113564?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116786473589113564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116786473589113564' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116786473589113564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116786473589113564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2007/01/apology.html' title='Apology'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116604162592018269</id><published>2006-12-13T13:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T11:14:17.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stealing from Thursday . . . .</title><content type='html'>I know I've been the worst blogger lately, but I'm just not in to it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'll almost be a year now and I'm thinking I might not do this much longer, but Thursday Next challenged us and since this one is easy, I'm playing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?  Hot chocolate (hello, it's chocolate).  I've never liked egg nog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?  Both....now.  When my boys were younger, he'd just sit them under the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Colored lights on tree or white?  I have white lights but I love both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Do you hang mistletoe?  No, and I don't know why since kissing is my favorite thing in the world to do.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. When do you put your decorations up?  Usually after Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?  Posole w/red chili and home made tamales!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child:  Too many - I swear, I thought we were rich growing up because I always got what I asked for . . .a specific doll, a bike, the latest/hottest game.  Come to find out, we weren't rich, my mom just knew how to shop for us and would hunt down that special item until the day before if that's what it took.  She was awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?  There isn't a Santa??  I never got that memo....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? Most of my gifts are already open before Christmas eve since I get lots of gifts from friends.  All my gifts from my sons and the rest of my family get open Christmas morning at my moms house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree? White lights are on it now, with silver, blue, crystal and white decorations.  Someone pointed out that those are the Cowgirls colors, but I pooh-poohed that notion.  Gold and black just aren't a Christmas theme for a tree, OK!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Snow! Love it or Dread it?  Love it on our mountains (don't even say it Midriff), dread it on the roads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Can you ice skate?  Not even!  I suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Do you remember your favorite gift?  So many, but I'd have to say one of my favorites was from Oscar (my ex).  He did know how to buy me gifts and one Christmas he got me the most amazing jewelry box.  I've never seen another like it and it'll always be special to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. What's the most important thing about the Holidays for you?  (ditto Thursday) My family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert?  Mom's fudge (and our sugar cookies made from scratch w/homemade icing).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What tops your tree? A silver star - all sparkly of course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?  ummmm, how 'bout both.  I love to figure out a theme each year for my closest friends and love to buy for my family, especially my boys...but I can't deny that I don't love getting treats under the tree for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What is your favorite Christmas Song?  Little drummer boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum? I have a box of canes on my desk right now, BUT, they're cinnamon.  I don't care for peppermint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. What do you serve for Christmas (eve) dinner?  We (mom's or aunt's) serve posole, red chili, beans, carne adovado w/potatoes, chili rellanos, home made tamales, with all the fixings.  yummers!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116604162592018269?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116604162592018269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116604162592018269' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116604162592018269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116604162592018269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/12/stealing-from-thursday.html' title='Stealing from Thursday . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116483544591014757</id><published>2006-11-29T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T15:47:15.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Ecuador . . .</title><content type='html'>My favorite part of my trip was going to a spot called Mitad del Mundo - middle of the earth.  I don't know why (although the tour guide tried to explain) this is dubbed the middle, since the equator runs the entire circumference of the planet.  I just know that I thought this spot was way cool.  It was fascinating and just had lots to offer in the way of culture.  Inside the monument (first picture below) we took an elevator to the top, but going down, there was about 15/16 landings, showing Ecuadorian culture and history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/1600/429993/DSC00670.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/320/374363/DSC00670.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a close up . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/1600/469361/close%20up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/320/856844/close%20up.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;standing on both sides of the hemisphere &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/1600/126260/strattling%20the%20center.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/320/708001/strattling%20the%20center.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my cheeks are on both the northern and southern hemisphere :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/1600/905214/cheeks%20on%20both%20side.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/320/377366/cheeks%20on%20both%20side.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a view from the top . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/1600/692177/DSC00677.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/320/469369/DSC00677.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The surrounding countryside was gorgeous but blogger has blocked me again from posting more pics.  I'll try to post more later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116483544591014757?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116483544591014757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116483544591014757' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116483544591014757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116483544591014757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/11/more-ecuador.html' title='More Ecuador . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116411948921216962</id><published>2006-11-21T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T08:09:06.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How does God do it??</title><content type='html'>Seriously - how did he create such beauty . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quito and the surrounding area was so beautiful, and yet, there was a lot of poverty.  I'll write more about my trip next week 'cause I've got too much going on here at work, but I did want to post a few pics.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the street outside the American Embassy . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/1600/2508/DSC00637.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/320/93942/DSC00637.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me in front of the Embassy . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/1600/526354/DSC00636.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/320/641926/DSC00636.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the park in front of my hotel . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/1600/914681/DSC00629.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/320/438087/DSC00629.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see the angel on the hill waaaayyy in the back???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/1600/168928/DSC00632.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/320/181542/DSC00632.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;same angel . . . up close . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/1600/354736/Angel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7639/1995/320/214087/Angel.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is built on a hill and some of it was modern, but a lot of it was old and falling apart.  To me, it added to the beauty of the city.  Quito is set in a long, shallow valley at an elevation of 2,800 m (9,200 ft) above sea level - it went for days (it seemed like anyway). Surrounded by green Andes peaks, Quito's weather was warm, but it got cold when it rained (which was every day), even though they're on the equator.  Speaking of equator, my next set of pics will show the spot they call Mitad del Mundo.....middle of the earth.....it was amazing!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thanksgiving everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116411948921216962?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116411948921216962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116411948921216962' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116411948921216962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116411948921216962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/11/how-does-god-do-it.html' title='How does God do it??'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116301172307868370</id><published>2006-11-08T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T12:19:05.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm leaving on a jet plane. . . .</title><content type='html'>Remember that song?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm Ecuador bound and I'm nervous about it.  I'll post pics when I get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I'm now addicted to John Legend.  His new cd is fricking amazing.  There isn't a bad song.  I'll leave you with the lyrics to my favorite:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• P.D.A. (We Just Don't Care) • | by John Legend  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's go to the park&lt;br /&gt;I wanna kiss u underneath the stars &lt;br /&gt;Maybe we go to far &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U know I love u when ur loving me &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it's better when it's publicly &lt;br /&gt;I'm not ashamed I don't care who sees &lt;br /&gt;Just hanging &amp; kissing our love extra basically &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We run devour up on the fire escape &lt;br /&gt;I like to setup an alarm today &lt;br /&gt;The love emergency don't make me wait &lt;br /&gt;Just follow I'll lead u &lt;br /&gt;I urgently need you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's go to the park&lt;br /&gt;I wanna kiss u underneath the stars &lt;br /&gt;Maybe we go to far &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets make love, let's go somewhere they may discover us &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see u closing down the restaurant &lt;br /&gt;Let's sneak and do it when your boss is gone &lt;br /&gt;Everybody's leaving will have some fun &lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it's wrong but u turn me on &lt;br /&gt;Ooh, will take a visit to your Mama's house &lt;br /&gt;Creep to the bedroom while your Mama's is out &lt;br /&gt;Maybe she will hear it when we scream and shout &lt;br /&gt;And we will keep it rocking until she comes knocking &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's go to the park&lt;br /&gt;I wanna kiss u underneath the stars &lt;br /&gt;Maybe we go to far &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's make love, let's go somewhere where they may discover us. &lt;br /&gt;Let's get lost and lost &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;We just don't care &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we keep up on this fooling around &lt;br /&gt;Will be the talk of the town &lt;br /&gt;Let's turn around they will arrive anytime &lt;br /&gt;Let's open up the blinds &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh I don't care about the priority &lt;br /&gt;Let's break the rules and ignore society &lt;br /&gt;Maybe the neighbor wants to spy too &lt;br /&gt;So long if they watch what we do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you think....and just because I like this song, doesn't mean anything.  The music is what got me first, then the words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk at you in a week and a half...peace out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116301172307868370?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116301172307868370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116301172307868370' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116301172307868370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116301172307868370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/11/im-leaving-on-jet-plane.html' title='I&apos;m leaving on a jet plane. . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116282468957493907</id><published>2006-11-06T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T07:51:29.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Broncos 31, Steelers 20 . . . .</title><content type='html'>I just can't talk about it . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but Phantom was awesome!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116282468957493907?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116282468957493907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116282468957493907' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116282468957493907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116282468957493907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/11/broncos-31-steelers-20.html' title='Broncos 31, Steelers 20 . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116222303696188803</id><published>2006-10-30T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T08:43:57.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish I was clever . . .</title><content type='html'>you know, so I could write up an amazing post about . . . anything!!  and it be funny or witty or something (like Thursday or Normie).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no, I'm boring.  All I can do is write about 'my life.'  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How boring is that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my Steelers lost to the stinking Raiders.  How does a team lose when they have 301 offensive yards over the other teams 96 offensive yardage.  So annoying.  Poor Ben, he's just still not on his game.  The other bummer was the Cowgirls won.  The only good news was Colts over those s.a. Broncos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our halloween party at Pat's house was fun.  Danced our behinds off w/our favorite d.j. Mr. Mattie.  I know girls . . . yes, he's a d.j. too!!!  I was so sore the next morning . . . thighs got a good workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I changed out my closest this weekend from summer to winter clothes and it's official.  I'm a glutton.  There really is no reason for me to buy any more clothes the rest of this year.  I know there's only two months left, but that generally doesn't stop me.  I need to slow down this addiction of needing clothes and jewelry.  (But it does make me so happy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All for now, peace out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116222303696188803?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116222303696188803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116222303696188803' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116222303696188803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116222303696188803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-wish-i-was-clever.html' title='I wish I was clever . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116178722151610330</id><published>2006-10-25T06:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T08:43:13.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Second half . . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;31. What's your favorite drink?&lt;/strong&gt;  I drink water all day, but I HAVE to start w/coffee in the morning!&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;32. Cowboys or Indians?&lt;/strong&gt;  Are we talking football - 'cause you know I can't go w/the cowgirls . . .(what a dumb question)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;33. Cops or Robbers?&lt;/strong&gt;  sometimes cops, sometimes robbers (I'm an equal opportunity kinda gal)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;34. Do you cheer for the bad guy in a movie?&lt;/strong&gt;  Only if the "bad" guy is really a good guy (you know - like Thomas Crown....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;35. What Hollywood star do you think resembles you best?&lt;/strong&gt;  Selma Hayek (hey, it's my survey - I can lie if I want)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;36. If you had to pick one, which cast member of Lost would you be?&lt;/strong&gt;  I watched it the first season and it "lost" me - don't remember any of their names....now if you asked who I'd like to get lost with....definitely the bad boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;37. What do you want when you are sick?&lt;/strong&gt;  Only to be in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;38. Who from high school would you like to run into?&lt;/strong&gt;  Tom McBride and Harry Cash.  I'd tell Tom that Dog still dreams about him and I just want to know how my Harry is doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;39. What radio station is your car radio tuned to right now?&lt;/strong&gt;  Whatever station Rose put on when she switched it to the radio of my cd player.  I only listen to cd's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;42. Norm or Cliff?&lt;/strong&gt;  Norm - get to be fat and drink beer and not care....who doesn't want that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;43. The Cosby Show or the Simpsons?&lt;/strong&gt;  Cosby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;44. Worst relationship mistake that you wish you could take back?&lt;/strong&gt;  I don't have one.  I've learned from all of them - sometimes good, sometimes bad, but always a memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;45. Do you like the person who sits directly across from you at work?&lt;/strong&gt;  Yup - she's one of the hardest/smartest workers I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;46. If you could get away with it, whom would you kill?&lt;/strong&gt;  I couldn't kill, but I would want him killed - Osama Bin Laden - he deserves death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;47. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?&lt;/strong&gt;  I think either Ruth and Billy Graham or James and Shirley Dobson.  They, to me, are the epitome of what commitment to serving God means.  I don't know how someone stays the course like these men/women have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;48. What famous person would you like to sleep with?&lt;/strong&gt;  oh crap....see, this survey shows just how my life is....ok, just sleep....nothing else....:)....hands down, Edgar Ramirez (but a close second is Mark Wahlberg). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;49. Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purpose?&lt;/strong&gt;  Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;50. Last book you read for real?&lt;/strong&gt;  I just blogged about it - the third of Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez's books called "Make Him Look Good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;51. Do you have a teddy bear?&lt;/strong&gt;  No, I have something better....a pillow! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;52. Strangest place you have ever brushed your teeth?&lt;/strong&gt;  On the lake??  Is it really strange if you're brushing your teeth...(weird question).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;53. Somewhere in California you've never been and would like to go?&lt;/strong&gt;  Wine country, Napa Valley....I'm gonna make that trip some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;54. Number of texts in a day?&lt;/strong&gt;  10 to 20&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;55. At this point in your life would you rather start a new career or relationship?&lt;/strong&gt;  duh, relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;57. Pencil or pen?&lt;/strong&gt;  pen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;58. bueller??? bueller??? bueller???&lt;/strong&gt;  Um, he's sick. My best friend's sister's boyfriend's brother's girlfriend heard from this guy who knows this kid who's going with the girl who saw Ferris pass out at 31 Flavors last night. I guess it's pretty serious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;59. How many jobs have you had THIS YEAR?&lt;/strong&gt;  just one for the past 15 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;60. If you could do 1 thing differently after graduating from high school what would it be?&lt;/strong&gt;  I would have moved to San Diego.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116178722151610330?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116178722151610330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116178722151610330' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116178722151610330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116178722151610330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/10/second-half.html' title='Second half . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116162363050177442</id><published>2006-10-23T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T14:52:54.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No thinking Monday!</title><content type='html'>My friend Patti sent me this via email and I'm just gonna be lazy and fill it out on my blog.  It's long so I'll do half now and half later . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. What bill do you hate paying the most?&lt;/strong&gt;  friggin comcast cable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Best place for a romantic dinner?&lt;/strong&gt;  I wouldn't know - it's been a long time since I've had a "romantic" dinner.   But I have had many "fun" dinners w/my buds and that would mean anywhere we decide to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Last time you puked from drinking?&lt;/strong&gt;  halloween party 1994??  I got very mad at my ex for flirting w/someone.  I think I tried jumping out of a moving vehicle....yikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. When is the last time you got drunk and danced on a bar?&lt;/strong&gt;  never &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Name of your first grade teacher?&lt;/strong&gt;  Please, I think I had 3 teachers that year.  Navy brat!  3rd grade I had 5 different teachers at 5 different schools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. What do you really want to be doing right now?&lt;/strong&gt;  Road trippin w/my 3 favorite allies . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. What did you want to be when you were growing up?&lt;/strong&gt;  Marine biologist (it's all about the ocean baby)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. How many colleges did you attend?&lt;/strong&gt;  1 if you call it attending . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9. Why did you wear the shirt that you have on right now?&lt;/strong&gt;  'Cause it's new and it matches the skirt I'm wearing w/it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10. GAS PRICES First thought?&lt;/strong&gt;  I'm glad I got rid of the diesel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11/12. If you could move anywhere and take someone with you?&lt;/strong&gt;  No doubt, Carlsbad, CA.  I don't know who would wanna go w/me 'cause dogology is afraid of the ocean and fag has a family . . . maybe Mattie??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?&lt;/strong&gt;  yeah, have no idea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14. Favorite style of underwear?&lt;/strong&gt;  hi-cut briefs (I'm such an old lady)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15. Favorite style of underwear for the opposite sex?&lt;/strong&gt;  boxer briefs?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16. What errand/chore do you despise? &lt;/strong&gt; I HATE changing the sheets on my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;17. If you didn't have to work, would you volunteer at an art gallery?&lt;/strong&gt;  Heck no - I just know there are other places I'd rather be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18. Get up early or sleep in?&lt;/strong&gt;  Sleep in - I'm so about the sleeping late thing but my cousin loves to disturb me on weekends!!  (she's soooo annoying!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;19. Who is your favorite animated character(s)?&lt;/strong&gt;  Mikie from Monsters Inc. - oh heck, I love ALL the characters, Boo, Sulley, Randall . . .I love that movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;20. Favorite NON sexual thing to do at night with a girl/guy?&lt;/strong&gt;  Hello, eating - good food makes for a happy girl . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;21. A secret that you wouldn't mind everyone knowing?&lt;/strong&gt;  I still count on my fingers (I know....it's so shameful - that's why I can't play the card tables at the casino)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;22. Are you planning on remaining in your current field?&lt;/strong&gt;  Definitely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;23. If you are not married, do you see yourself married in the next five years?&lt;/strong&gt;  I can only hope so - I would love to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;24. Your favorite lunch meat?&lt;/strong&gt;  Ham, but gotta have cheese too, preferably swiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;25. What do you get every time you go into a WalMart?&lt;/strong&gt;  I never go - I'm a Target shopper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;26. Beach or lake?&lt;/strong&gt;  Beach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;27. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual that was invented by people who died at 20?&lt;/strong&gt;  Absolutely NOT.  Marriage can be beautiful - it's the people that mess it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;28. Who do you stalk on MySpace?&lt;/strong&gt;  Baby girl (but not lately)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;29. Favorite guilty pleasure?&lt;/strong&gt;  Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia, even when it's cold out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;30. Favorite movie you wouldn't want anyone to find out about?&lt;/strong&gt;  I tell everyone everything - especially when it comes to movies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116162363050177442?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116162363050177442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116162363050177442' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116162363050177442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116162363050177442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/10/no-thinking-monday.html' title='No thinking Monday!'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116101924285531684</id><published>2006-10-16T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T10:21:14.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfection . . .</title><content type='html'>Dang my sister and her husband make pretty babies . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor Teresa . . . precious girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/Cutie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/Cutie.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/warm%20and%20snuggly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/warm%20and%20snuggly.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brother still isn't sure about her . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/Brother%20and%20Sister.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/Brother%20and%20Sister.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116101924285531684?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116101924285531684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116101924285531684' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116101924285531684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116101924285531684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/10/perfection.html' title='Perfection . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116068960381970873</id><published>2006-10-12T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T06:36:40.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Taos . . . .</title><content type='html'>Mr. Road Tripper reminded me that all was not perfect on this trip.  Poor thing, he had the stinky pee room.  Seriously.  And he actually stayed in it all night.  (I'm laughing so hard thinking about it right now - who stays in stinky pee room???).  He woke up w/a bad headache the next morning, partly because he froze himself w/the window open, partly because he tied one on too and mostly because the smell just made him sick!  Poor Mattie - bet he never does that again. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00559.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00559.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ok, Taos always has to be different.  The only other town that is like this is Austin, Texas (hence the "keep Austin weird" motto).  Just look at this MickeyD's.  It's not the norm....it's McTaos (this is for you RT).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00571.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00571.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  This pic is for my girl Chris.  This is her corner of Taos.  She claimed it last time we were there with her ass!  Literally!  HAHA  (Oh I love that girl!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00572.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00572.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Then there's my girl Pat....doesn't that shit eating grin say it all!  She doesn't have just a corner or a MickeyD's, or even a tree (yeah, the tree's mine), no, she has a mountain.  She thinks it's hers.  She is the queen of Taos and doesn't the queen deserve a mountain.  No, I don't have a picture of it 'cause I don't know which one it is, but she does, and she's claimed it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00589.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00589.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ms. Chris w/her beau Mike. Don't they look marvelous!  &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;Well that's all for now - I wanted to post a cute pic of me, Matt and Pat, but again, blogger is blocking me (stupid blogger).  Can you tell I like hanging w/these people...yeah, they are my buds!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116068960381970873?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116068960381970873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116068960381970873' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116068960381970873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116068960381970873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/10/more-taos.html' title='More Taos . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-116048641394982575</id><published>2006-10-10T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T07:56:41.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Such a good weekend . . .</title><content type='html'>Started off celebrating my friend Annie's b-day on Friday night.  I know we're supposed to be looking older, but I swear my friends aren't aging.  (Am I kidding myself because I don't want to look old?)  Seriously, look at Annie (just turned 45) and Dogology (46).  I'm sorry....they look good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00549.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00549.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, off to Taos for the wedding.  My Mattie drove us and again, I'm telling you, some girl is going to get the whole package 'cause he's beautiful - inside and out (and so freaking smart).  He shared lots with me on what projects he's up to, (besides his regular job) and he's someone that someday I'll be able to say "I knew Mattie back when......." (plus, just look at that smile - stinking lights up a room!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00557.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00557.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had so much fun traveling together, never a dull moment.  We got to Taos a little before check-in so he and I went to the Rio Grande Gorge.  OMG it was so beautiful.  Check out how amazing this spot is . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this one is looking straight down . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00566.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00566.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00567.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00567.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00565.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00565.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was wedding time.  I don't understand why all my wedding pics came out blurry, unless I just suck at inside pictures.  It's to bad because Amanda (the bride) deserved to have every picture of her turn out as beautiful as she was.  I'm posting this pic even though it's blurry because it shows her dancing w/her dad and you can see her tears streaming down her face.  She was gorgeous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00599.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00599.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I wanted to post a couple more pics of my girls (and guy), but blogger won't let me (why does it do that).  Guess I'll have to save them for another post.  Peace out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-116048641394982575?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/116048641394982575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=116048641394982575' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116048641394982575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/116048641394982575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/10/such-good-weekend.html' title='Such a good weekend . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115988283894332977</id><published>2006-10-03T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-03T07:07:44.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too many things going on . . .</title><content type='html'>Last week was C R A Z Y!!!  Work kicked my ass!  I think it'll slow down, but not quite yet.  Lots of hours but hey, this is what I choose.  I'm thankful, in more ways than one.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished the third of Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez's books.  This one was called "Make Him Look Good" and it was soooo good.  I love her writing - it's like reading my thoughts.  She's simple to understand; maybe that's why I get into her books because I don't have to think hard about what she's trying to convey or say.  Kinda like me, simple but deep.  Lots of emotions but not hard to figure out.  If I'm quiet, leave me alone.  I'm not mad, I'm not in a bad mood, I just need to be left alone and I don't need to "talk" it out.  Ok, back to the book (sorry about that tangent - it's not always about me). . . I guess the other reason I relate so well to her style is she's all about the Latin/Hispanic culture.  Anyway, I love her style and can't wait for her fourth to come out sometime this month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last week I got an email from a friend that I had not talked to since 1992.  She sent one of those "are you the person who knows me" message and of course I did.  I am so excited to connect w/her again.  We used to work together in the late 70's/early 80's here in Albuquerque before I got married and she moved back to Tampa.  She reminded me of a time that my ex had surprised me when we lived in South Carolina.  He told me that he invited his boss for dinner so I was expecting his boss, and in walked Patti and Thom.  I think I cried - they had come up from Tampa to visit for the weekend.  First time I had friends visit me since I had left home and it was pretty special.  Yeah, my ex wasn't always an ass.  So anyway, I love that another friend has connected w/me via the superhighway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited about this weekend, because I'm heading to Taos again.  This time for a wedding.  My girl Pat's niece is tying the knot and we get in on the fun.  Don't you love weddings?  I do.  You get to dress up, you get to eat, you get to drink and dance . . . what's not to like.  Plus, I'm not the one that had to stress setting up the shindig.  I love weddings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I hope everyone has a great week.  I'll catch up on your blogs since I've neglected lately.  peace out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115988283894332977?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115988283894332977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115988283894332977' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115988283894332977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115988283894332977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/10/too-many-things-going-on_03.html' title='Too many things going on . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115919505704025920</id><published>2006-09-25T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T07:39:09.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue Monday . . .</title><content type='html'>What a terrible football weekend....my beloved Steelers are not playing up to par and they better get it together FAST or we're gonna be playing catch up the rest of the year.  Big Ben is the key factor in my books.  He's off his mark, Hines couldn't catch shit and even my heart throb Troy isn't making any big plays.  What is going on w/these men???  Very frustrating to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Grey's didn't disappoint.  I swear I love that show and for Christina to tell Meredith that she was dark and twisty showed again, that the writers are geniuses.  Don't we all have that dark and twisty side though . . . . I hate to admit it but I know my dark side comes out quite often.  Like when I see someone fall, why can't I just go help that person, why is it that I immediately laugh (see, D&amp;T); or when I watch a movie like Kill Bill and see an eyeball being plucked from the villains eye as she thrashes on the floor in pain and I'm cracking up while everyone else is watching in horror (D&amp;T); or when I get the email that's titled "how I quit smoking" and it's a quick video showing a handful of people out on a balcony smoking, and some guy is ready to walk out with them, when all of a sudden, the balcony falls off the building with everyone possibly falling to their deaths....yeah, you got it, I'm LOL in my office instead of feeling sorry for all those smokers....(D&amp;T).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not proud of this side of me, but it is who I am.  So what makes you D&amp;T??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115919505704025920?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115919505704025920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115919505704025920' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115919505704025920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115919505704025920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/09/blue-monday.html' title='Blue Monday . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115858812990628935</id><published>2006-09-18T06:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T10:38:45.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My girl Pat . . .</title><content type='html'>So Ms. Patricia turned 50 this weekend and she had a b-day bash at her house.  Her family from Taos came and as usual had a feast waiting for us.  It was a fun party for me since I got to hang w/my girls and my husband....the Dogology.  Guess who also came....my hot engineer....he was fun!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a few pics from the bash....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dog, me, b-grl and chris (i wish i would have gotten a pic of chris' shoes! HOT!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00537.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00537.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me and hot boy....&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b-grl w/her daughter (no way does she look 50!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00543.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00543.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the cake that chris and I bought for our 3 rules girl! (it was yummy, french vanilla w/pineapple creamcheese filling...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00525.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00525.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the weekend was pretty quiet and uneventful - we like that!  I did buy the second season of Grey's and watched the first 6 episodes last night!  Can't wait for Thursday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115858812990628935?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115858812990628935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115858812990628935' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115858812990628935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115858812990628935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-girl-pat.html' title='My girl Pat . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115832794341141001</id><published>2006-09-15T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T06:45:43.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You play w/fire . . . YGB</title><content type='html'>It's weird how some things in life turn themselves around.  You know, we really have no say with how our lives turn out.  Yes, we can make ourselves safe and secure with friends and family, and we can be secure in God's love, but everything else....it's a crap shoot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115832794341141001?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115832794341141001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115832794341141001' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115832794341141001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115832794341141001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/09/you-play-wfire-ygb.html' title='You play w/fire . . . YGB'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115786372741935641</id><published>2006-09-09T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T21:48:47.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How young is too young??</title><content type='html'>let's just say . . . ummmmm . . . 30 . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is 30 too young??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just asking . . . geez . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no seriously, is 30 too young for let's say a 46 year old??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course we're not talking about me . . . my 46 year old friend . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, that's it . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, just taking a general pole . . . what should i tell my friend?&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/20040769-115786372741935641?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115786372741935641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115786372741935641' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115786372741935641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115786372741935641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/09/how-young-is-too-young.html' title='How young is too young??'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115754907825024598</id><published>2006-09-06T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T06:24:39.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I did it . . .</title><content type='html'>I bit the bullet and bought my ticket for Quito Ecuador in November.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My girl Nancy and her husband Fernando, asked me about a month ago to go with them to his hometown.  I struggled because of the expense since it's a month before Christmas.  I was telling a friend from work why I was hesitating and she told me off.  She said "are you crazy!!  When will you get another opportunity to travel to another country with someone who knows it."  She's right....so I did what any other in debt American would do....put myself more in debt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited!!  And anxious!  WTH, it's only money.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115754907825024598?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115754907825024598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115754907825024598' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115754907825024598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115754907825024598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-did-it.html' title='I did it . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115711920794889194</id><published>2006-09-01T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T07:00:08.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's already friday again . . . .</title><content type='html'>and i got nothing.....work's been a mother bear.....i'm sleep deprived.....i did ask my hot boy to a party (my girl pat's 50th in two weeks), and he said yes.....hmmmmm.....the possibilities.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no big plans this weekend....going to a wine festival on saturday....possible pool party on monday (yay for holidays).....again, hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115711920794889194?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115711920794889194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115711920794889194' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115711920794889194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115711920794889194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/09/its-already-friday-again.html' title='it&apos;s already friday again . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115651706493980915</id><published>2006-08-25T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T09:39:42.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta love friday . . .</title><content type='html'>I get every other friday off and believe me, it does a body good!  To not have to do the daily routine is a blessing.  Plus, right now work is stressing me out.  I have felt like we're functioning in crisis mode for over 3 months now.  It's bizarre and I look forward to any time off I can get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, on my fridays off, there are so many things I enjoy doing....lets start w/:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping in....I get up at 5:00 every morning and when I get to sleep in 'till 7:30/8:00ish, I'm a happy girl.  It's amazing how those extra couple of hours rejuvenate ones mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting in my swing, drinking my coffee....I love to wake up, make my coffee and sit in my backyard porch swing.  Many times I'll read for hours on that swing, if I don't have anything else to do.  My boys did so good with that mothers day gift two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zoom, Zoom....I love my Mazda 3.  She's so hot, and driving her is almost orgasmic.  I speed and I swear I understand why race car drivers get addicted (I'm all about taking fast turns too).  Now I'm not into NASCAR and the such just because it's too loud, but I understand the need for speed.  Plus, my car has the best sound system - I blast my music (all of this when I'm by myself of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hit the movies....Yes, I'm hooked on the big screen.  I can go by myself or mostly, I try to take my mom since she loves to go too.  And yeah, I like the sappy love stories more than anything else.  But a good comedy works too.  (Small popcorn, extra salt and butter and a cola Icee.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shop 'till I drop....I'm a shopaholic and it's my mothers fault...she's just as bad.  I love it all....Jewelry, shoes, clothes, housewears, music....it doesn't matter.  It's all good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner at a good restaurant....I don't usually eat dinner during the week (we eat out at lunch just about every day), so I like to eat out at a good restaurant at least once a week and enjoy an amazing dinner.  Seafood or steak is my preference and always with a glass of wine.  Tonight though, we're hanging at Fag's so we're at her mercy with what we get fed tonight....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did I mention sleeping in.....have a great weekend everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115651706493980915?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115651706493980915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115651706493980915' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115651706493980915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115651706493980915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/08/gotta-love-friday.html' title='Gotta love friday . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115616747555974514</id><published>2006-08-21T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T06:39:39.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mattie . . . .</title><content type='html'>So my bud, Mr. Matt, told me yesterday at lunch that I haven't ever mentioned him on my blog....well maybe not specifically by name, but he has been mentioned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt is Chris' nephew and is my friend and confidant.  He's goorgeeeeous and soooo sweet (if I were a girl.....*sigh*).  His ex is crazy stupid for letting him go because talk about "the catch of the day."  Seriously....he's talented, he's tall, he's a thinker, he's an amazing dad, he's compassionate, he loves his family and friends, he surrounds himself with positive people (namely us *smile*) and he's just a nice guy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked Chris, Pat and I to go to lunch yesterday.  His choice was St. Claire's Winery and needless to say, we enjoyed us some local vino.  I had their white merlot (his suggestion) and it was excellent.  But this is how cute/sweet he is.  When he took us back home, he gave Pat and I each a new bottle of wine....the same one we had been drinking at the restaurant.  See....soooo sweet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shout out Mattie . . . . love you babe!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115616747555974514?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115616747555974514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115616747555974514' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115616747555974514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115616747555974514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/08/mattie.html' title='Mattie . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115588087272375412</id><published>2006-08-17T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T23:01:12.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not a sap, but I'm feeling sappy . . .</title><content type='html'>I had an email from a friend today asking me what was wrong.  He didn't think that I seemed happy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can this special man who hasn't seen me or talked to me on a daily consistant basis, know that something was wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something is wrong.  I'm hung up on a man who isn't hung up on me.  Yeah, we flirt and we hug and we email and we go to lunch and we do all the things that on the surface make a girl feel like there could be something, but there isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do men do that?  Why lead someone on if there isn't anything.  I've had most of my friends tell me that he's playing with me...he's liking the attention that I give him.  But why?  Why want my attention if you're not interested?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've asked and no one has told me HOW to stop caring.  He's been the first man I've been interested in since my divorce over ten years ago.  So HOW do I cut him off?  I don't want to do this anymore.  I want to be someones yes and not someones maybe.  So HOW?  I'm asking for help here.  How do I turn it off?  And believe me...I've tried, but I suck at this not caring thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115588087272375412?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115588087272375412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115588087272375412' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115588087272375412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115588087272375412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/08/im-not-sap-but-im-feeling-sappy.html' title='I&apos;m not a sap, but I&apos;m feeling sappy . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115564887986309173</id><published>2006-08-15T06:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T06:37:01.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Same old shit, different day . . .</title><content type='html'>Do you ever just get tired of the same old shit....wake up at 5:00 (or in my case 2:30 since I haven't been sleeping well), get ready for work, drive to work, come in to work, start coffee, turn on computer, open all the programs you use for the day, go to fridge and get half and half for coffee, warm it at microwave, get water in giant mug, come back to desk and fix the perfect cup of coffee, read blogs (sometimes blog), start working since by this time everyone else starts showing up, and then it's lunch time.....work, work, work, then it's time to go home.  Sometimes, I get calls from my girls (3ish yesterday) telling me they're sneaking out early, do I wanna come???  HAH......does a bear.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a new daily routine....one that lets me sleep 'till 8ish/9ish, one that lets me roll over and someone is smiling at me with that look....ok, I know there isn't anyone to give me that look but damn, it's my fantasy....anyway, after we do the deed, we stroll through the day....I don't know how I'd make money at this point, but since I'm living in lala land right now, I'm thinking that "someone special" won't want me to work....yeah, I'll just be his beck and call girl....(did I just call myself a call girl????) :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, time to wake up....random I know....so sue me for daydreaming, since I'm not night dreaming lately!  See what no sleep produces....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115564887986309173?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115564887986309173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115564887986309173' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115564887986309173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115564887986309173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/08/same-old-shit-different-day.html' title='Same old shit, different day . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115540510220303849</id><published>2006-08-12T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T10:51:42.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's only Saturday???</title><content type='html'>I'm tired, but I wouldn't have it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to a party Tuesday night and met 24 young men who were in from Nashville for training.  Since my girl Pat had the hook up, we all benefited.  The next night, we all met again and went dancing.  I'm not a country western dancer, but a girl can compromise....sometimes.  Worked the next morning, but left early in the afternoon because I had to meet the same gals for a Los Lonely Boys concert at Sandia Casino.  That concert was so fun - it was a perfect night for an outdoor concert.  We went inside the casino after, and danced till the piggies hurt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was pretty special.  My brother in law got sworn in as a district court judge.  He's amazing and everything he's set out to do, he's done.  So, I hung out w/my ex yesterday.  It was good seeing him, talking to him, laughing w/him.  At one point at the reception, he leaned in to me with his arm around my waist and said "I've always loved you Nettie."  "I know," I said, and "it's mutual."  Too bad huh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm heading to Rose's house to celebrate her b-day.  Day at the pool, dinner and movie tonight.  More relaxing.....relaxing's good.....we love relax....I need to relax.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, my engineer burned me another cd and I'm now liking Rascal Flats.  Who would of thunk....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115540510220303849?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115540510220303849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115540510220303849' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115540510220303849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115540510220303849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/08/its-only-saturday.html' title='It&apos;s only Saturday???'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115504442221451598</id><published>2006-08-08T06:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T06:40:22.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The dog whisperer . . .</title><content type='html'>Last night, I went to sleep watching Mr. Cesar Millan (aka: the dog whisperer - he's a genius), and apparently he invaded my sleep.  I dreamt about him and some dog I don't own.  How weird.  But as I was thinking about this dream, I started thinking, why can't I become the "person" whisperer?  You know, kinda like how Cesar does his Jedi mind tricks.  Why can't I do that with the people around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss walks in and tells me he needs reports for a 2:00...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put out my hand first and say "shttttttt" (just like Cesar)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss heels, and I wave my hand and tell him (now you know I'm incorporating both his technique and the Jedi masters technique here), "you don't want me to run these reports....you want to run them yourself....and while you're at it, you want to put me in for an on the spot award."  He walks away telling himself "why did I bother Ms. A with this trivial stuff...she works so hard...I need to put her in for an award."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or than engineer I've been wanting....to ask me out....:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He walks in my office and starts to tell me about his day....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put out my hand first "shtttttt"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He heels, and I wave my hand and tell him "you don't want to tell me about your day....you want to tell me how nice I look and how good I smell....and before you know it, you're asking me out on an official date, not lunch!!"  He walks away asking himself "why haven't I kissed this girl....kiss....why haven't I asked this girl to marry me - she's perfect?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or my mom . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She calls and starts with how I haven't called or visited....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"shhhtttttt.....you don't want to tell me off.....you want to tell me how you thought of me when you bought that new turquoise necklace, and now feel the need to give it to me".....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm liking this new power....who would you use it on??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115504442221451598?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115504442221451598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115504442221451598' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115504442221451598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115504442221451598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/08/dog-whisperer.html' title='The dog whisperer . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115466561717132188</id><published>2006-08-03T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T21:29:34.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I probably shouldn't . . . .</title><content type='html'>but, I'm gonna...post while I'm intoxicated...I will have several of my friends shake their heads....but, it won't be the first time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out with my Vegas girls tonight and by the grace of God, I'm home safe.  I'm still buzzed and should not have driven home, but I've always pushed the limit.  I don't know why, but dogology did remind me last night that I have a rebellious side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had it since I was a sophomore in high school.  If you do the math, it's been over 30 years.  It started the summer of '76, when my cousin Geri (aka Jetz...as in Benny and the Jetz), took me to the beach and got me drunk on Tyrolia wine.  I started lying to my parents that year.  I lied to them about my first true love, Harry Cash, my sophomore year.  Why....because he was black.  My parents raised me believing that we were all equal, but in my heart I knew they wouldn't approve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They didn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Harry taught me something that my parents could never teach me.  He taught me to love with my heart and not be afraid of the color of our skin.  I wish I knew where he is - how he is...if he's happy.  He impacted my life.  I wonder if he even knows how much.  He was the best kisser.  I think he started my love/fetish for lips.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made lots of mistakes with men in my life, but loving Harry wasn't one of them.  I honestly didn't start writing this post with him in mind, but for whatever reason, I'm dedicating this moment to him....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;much love HC....I hope you're well....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115466561717132188?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115466561717132188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115466561717132188' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115466561717132188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115466561717132188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-probably-shouldnt.html' title='I probably shouldn&apos;t . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115438612338615982</id><published>2006-07-31T14:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T15:48:43.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How close is too close?</title><content type='html'>Do you have friends....that will tell you anything?  So dog and I hung out most of the weekend ('cause that's what husbands and wives do....), and she started pointing out all my weird idiosyncrasies.  I guess to preface this, first, NO, we're really not gay, and second, she's house sitting fags home because fag's family has two large standard poodle's that need lots of attention (they're very spoiled and I'm actually shocked that they didn't go on this trip).  So, back to our weekend.  Fag left us four tickets to our farmhouse baseball team, the Isotopes, so me, dog, Annie and Rose went.  First met at the Quarters (my fav bbq in Abq), then went to the game.  We had fun, plus Isotopes won 4-3 in the ninth after being behind 3-0.  It was a cool ending.  The four of us then went to Sandia Casino to meet up w/my other girls (Chris &amp; Pat) (but it was actually for another friends b-day).  We didn't stay because the line and the wait were too long, so we went and gambled for a bit.  We all lost, but not much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my husband and I went home (to fags house) and I spent the night.  Stayed up kinda late watching one of my shows "Sex and the City" then went to sleep around 1ish.  The next morning, we were getting ready for church (I know....S&amp;TC, then church....I struggle with lots of things OK), I walked in the bathroom to brush my teeth, and as I was doing this, I was humming....I'm a hummer....I don't realize I do it, but dog always points this out to me...."You're humming"....ooohhhh....does that mean to stop 'cause I'm annoying you....(yes, that's what she's saying)....so, now I'm brushing my teeth...."do you always have to have the foam from the toothpaste drool down your mouth when you brush your teeth?"  I look in the mirror and yes, there is all kinds of foamy toothpaste drooling down my mouth....I busted up laughing....I guess she has noticed that I do this for a very long time (we've done many trips together in the past 30 years) and is now just telling me this bugs her.  I'm annoying????  She's annoying, OK....she stood there putting on her makeup (which takes her at least 1/2 hour, seriously, why does it take her soooo long??) and the whole time I had to listen to her bowels....that's right!!  So don't tell me about annoying....HAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, then she tells everyone at breakfast how I drool, AND she tells fag when fag calls her later that afternoon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fag calls me....DOESN'T say hi....."I hope that skanky pillow wasn't on my bed"....well, guess what....as a matter of fact it was, but it was on Carl's side....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My pillow is another of my bad habits....I can't sleep without it.  I don't even know how old it is, I just know that no other pillow in the world is as comfy as my pillow.  And I don't care what's growing in it....you can tell me things about it 'till you're blue in the face, but I don't care.  It goes w/me everywhere!  Even on fags bed....so there....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, so do you think we're too close....:)....God love 'em!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115438612338615982?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115438612338615982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115438612338615982' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115438612338615982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115438612338615982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/07/how-close-is-too-close.html' title='How close is too close?'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115400778188829093</id><published>2006-07-27T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-27T06:46:29.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a few more . . .</title><content type='html'>I wanted you to see some of the flavor of the town of Taos, but as I said yesterday, blogger wasn't letting me post more pics . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this pic shows main street (I know, how cute is this "main street") a couple hours before the parade . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00444.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00444.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;this pic shows the beginning of the parade from the same spot . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00448.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00448.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;how adorable were these girls . . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00455.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00455.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;this is where we hung out most of that afternoon . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00442.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00442.1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, I love my culture and the simplicity of our state.  As you can tell, this weekend was exceptionally special.  I do want to tell a quick story about my girl Pat.  She was pretty toasted Friday night (morning) and at one point, Chris and I were on the couch (laying, 'cause we were tired) and Ms. conservative Patricia came in and proceeded to tell us the three rules of Taos....(she thinks she's the queen of Taos)....rule #1, you eat....rule #2, you drink....rule #3, you sleep.  But when you say all of this, you have to say it with a slight slur and a little mooch....needless to say, Chris and I laughed at her the rest of the morning with her 3 rules.  She kills us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115400778188829093?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115400778188829093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115400778188829093' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115400778188829093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115400778188829093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/07/few-more.html' title='a few more . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115392083020847289</id><published>2006-07-26T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T11:55:34.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Beauty . . . .</title><content type='html'>Taos - WOW - Everything I imagined it to be and more.  It's quaint, the people are friendly and the landscape beautiful.  Just look at what surrounded us....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00425.11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00425.11.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00439.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00439.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;I know not everyone appreciates our desert landscape, mirrored with our mountains, but I'm not one of them.  Our terrain is unique and soulful and it pulls all kinds of emotions out of me.  Mostly, I just see God.  His creation.  He's amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But of course this trip wasn't all about the landscape, there were parties that we HAD to attend!  Pat's family didn't let us go hungry - there was always breakfast,  bbq's and dinners!  Seriously good food!  After getting there Friday evening (we detoured in Sante Fe at our watering hole called the Ore House - our fav bartender made us our bloody mary's), we showed up at Pat's mom's house, just in time for dinner.  We then got ourselves cleaned up for a very long night of partying.  Went to three local bars and ended up at Pat's friends house until the wee hours of the morn.  I think we strolled in about 5 a.m.  (I know I'm too old to be doing this, but hey, I did pay for it the next day!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00435.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00435.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was first spent at Pat's cousin's house Steve (after we woke at 10 a.m.), where his wife made us bloody mary's just to get us going.  That afternoon, we went to Pat's sister's house for a fantastic bbq (food we really needed), and we looked and acted like zombies for most of the day and night.  We even got home early that night (hey, 12:30 is early for us).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning was breakfast at her mom's and then into town for more "fiesta's."  We watched their local town parade....how cute is that!!  I haven't watched a parade in many years.  We hung out most of the afternoon at the Taos Inn on the plaza.  A local band played after the parade and we just didn't want to leave, but alas....Chris had to get back to her kids and I had to work the next day!  I want to win the lottery!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. I tried to post more pics, but again, bloody blogger is not letting me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115392083020847289?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115392083020847289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115392083020847289' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115392083020847289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115392083020847289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/07/amazing-beauty.html' title='Amazing Beauty . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115383896741712999</id><published>2006-07-25T06:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T11:23:38.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WTH . . .</title><content type='html'>Does anyone know what the bloody hell is wrong w/blogger today?  I've tried all morning to download pics, but it ain't working!  I'll try later . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115383896741712999?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115383896741712999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115383896741712999' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115383896741712999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115383896741712999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/07/wth.html' title='WTH . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115349041306782269</id><published>2006-07-21T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T07:00:59.736-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taos bound . . . .</title><content type='html'>So I'm heading to Taos this afternoon w/two of my Vegas girls, Chris and Pat, for their annual "Fiestas de Taos."  I have been so giddy about this trip and it's only a weekender.  I've never been to Taos, much less during fiestas, which is a big deal for that town.  I really haven't vacationed much in my own state, except to the lakes Conchas and the Butte, and I don't know why - New Mexico has so much to offer.  We're staying w/Pat's sister and her husband (most of her family is from there), and they've got all kinds of parties lined up that we're supposed to attend.....well, if we have to, I guess we have to!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, have a great weekend everyone - hopefully I'll have pics to show you next week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115349041306782269?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115349041306782269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115349041306782269' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115349041306782269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115349041306782269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/07/taos-bound.html' title='Taos bound . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115315209696875307</id><published>2006-07-17T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T11:59:54.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another weekend rundown . . . .</title><content type='html'>My schedule is set that I have every other Friday off.  Thankfully, this past weekend was my Friday, which made it a three-dayer!  I love three day weekends because it rejuvenates me.  That extra day makes "A" a happier person.  I was able to clean a very messy house (hadn't unpacked from San Diego), hadn't dusted in over 4 weeks (I know - it grossed me out too), sheets needed changing, had piles of laundry, bathrooms needed scrubbing, just general overall clean up the mess and feel like I can breathe again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did do something different this past Friday w/my Vegas girls, that I've not done here in ABQ.  Linda scheduled a wine tasting tour for us at a wonderful winery.  Yes, here, in the desert...I know....who would of thunk!  I bought two bottles of a Syrah that tasted quite wonderful.  I'll have to come up w/an occasion to open them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent the day Saturday w/my friend Rose and her family.  They have a pool so guess where we were?  Like I needed more sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was spent w/family and our mom always cooks Sunday dinner for us.  We had halibut that my aunt's boyfriend brought back from Alaska.  Mom fried half of it and grilled the other half.  I love fish so this was a treat!  She also made stuffed zucchini and people, it was tasty....(I'm also having it for lunch today!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm reading a fantastic book - has anyone heard of "The Dirty Girls Social Club" by Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez?  It's about a group of Latina women who became friends while going to Boston College, and have remained friends ten years later (which is the time period the book takes place).  The writing is amazing and real and pulls lots of emotions from me.  I'm excited to have lunch just so I can read some more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also bought a new CD this past week.  OMG, Nelly Furtado ROCKS!  Her new CD "Loose" is sexy and soulful and all the things I love about getting new music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's all for now....Happy Monday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115315209696875307?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115315209696875307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115315209696875307' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115315209696875307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115315209696875307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/07/another-weekend-rundown.html' title='Another weekend rundown . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115271137734475305</id><published>2006-07-12T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T06:36:17.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swear to goodness....</title><content type='html'>I woke up at 2:21 and had to watch it change to 2:22....it took me a long while to fall back asleep but I didn't look at the clock again until I woke up this morning.  Am I obsessed??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So speaking of the June bug....here's more pics of her....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00360.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00360.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00381.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00381.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00404.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00404.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;she's our angel!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115271137734475305?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115271137734475305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115271137734475305' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115271137734475305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115271137734475305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/07/swear-to-goodness.html' title='Swear to goodness....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115262628256529518</id><published>2006-07-11T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T07:13:06.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I heart San Diego . . .</title><content type='html'>so you know me and numbers....this morning, I swear, I woke up at 3:33, fell back asleep and woke up again at 4:44....how cool is that!!  I know.....don't even say it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, San Diego is where my heart is.  Maybe I wouldn't enjoy the beach as much if I lived there, but not living there makes me want it more.  I mean just look at the water and the weather.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me, my cuz geri and her friend sue...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00356.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00356.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;brit (geri's daughter, my cuz) and emma (my niece)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00352.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00352.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;do you see what I mean about the weather....it was like that every day I was there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, one of my good friends from the days I lived in Virginia, is now living in San Diego.  I got to spend a couple of days w/her and on one of those days we went to where else....the beach!  Oh, did I mention she just got remarried to a very hot Equadorian?  He's a beautiful man with a gentle spirit.  I hope this marriage will work for her because she's unique and special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fernando and nanc....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00380.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00380.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;nanc and me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/nanc%26a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/nanc%26a.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shouldn't this be one of those corona commercials...change your latitude..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00375.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00375.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but instead, I'm at work again...I guess somebody's gotta pay the bills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115262628256529518?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115262628256529518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115262628256529518' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115262628256529518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115262628256529518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-heart-san-diego.html' title='I heart San Diego . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115223940204285360</id><published>2006-07-06T19:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T19:42:05.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It'll humble you . . . .</title><content type='html'>I was in the water, talking to someone I had just met, when the biggest dang wave came out of nowhere and knocked me on my ass today!!  I love how the ocean doesn't care who you are, what you are, where you've been....it'll still put you where it wants you!  I love the ocean....two more days....not sure if my nose will be able to take it since it's slightly on the burnt side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115223940204285360?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115223940204285360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115223940204285360' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115223940204285360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115223940204285360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/07/itll-humble-you_06.html' title='It&apos;ll humble you . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115150746125585994</id><published>2006-06-28T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T08:39:11.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am . . . .</title><content type='html'>I AM: a mother of a 21 year old today - Steven Anthony born 3:08 a.m. June 28, 1985!  How is this possible??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I SAID: "I don't ever want to be pregnant again!!" cry, cry, cry as the doc has his hand up my como se llama, twisting the little buggar because he decided that he didn't like the internal monitor they stuck on his little head....so he decided he'd show them they weren’t going to mess with him in the womb....that was his room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WANT:  my sons to be happy - to not regret and to make only good choices for themselves.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I NEED:  them to be the men of God that I've tried to raise them to be, but do it joyfully, and without guilt, because we all make mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WISH: to be married again, to someone I adore and who will adore me.  James Dobson wrote "I remember being in Sunday school class when I was young and our teacher told us once to not marry the one you can live with, but the one you can't live without."  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I HATE: such a strong word, but just to play along, I'd say I hate the people of this world who bring terror to children, or those who try to terrorize innocent people because of their misguided religious beliefs.  Yeah, I hate that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I MISS: having sex!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I FEAR: growing old without a partner, and not having sex!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HEAR: that you shouldn't take life so seriously because no one gets out alive anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WONDER: what my future daughter in laws will be like?  My prayer is that they'll be encouraging to both my sons and that they'll always be able to make them laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I REGRET: not being a better wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM NOT: someone that takes life too seriously...if I can't have fun, what's the point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DANCE: best with my girls...dogology, fag and gebes are the best dance partners a girl could ask for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I SING: horribly, but I play a mean air bass guitar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM NOT ALWAYS: in the mood to talk.  Sometimes people need to recognize the signs and stay away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I MAKE: a mean lasagna! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WRITE: because it soothes me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CONFUSE: myself....all the time....over analyzing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I SHOULD: exercise more often...just walking to get my heart rate going.  I know I'd feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I START: every morning with a poop!  No constipation here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I FINISH: every night with a face wash, teeth brushed and a thanks to God for my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I BELIEVE: in the Lord Jesus Christ.  He's my savior and I'll see him someday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I KNOW: this is true because His word is real.  Just the mention of His name invokes real passion from those who know him and those who don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CAN: do anything if I set my mind to it, I just choose not to put my mind to some of those things that feel like a man should do them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CAN'T: lose weight...I've kept it the same for over 10 years (give or take 5 lbs.) but maybe it's more of I just don't want to make that commitment 'cause I know how hard it was last time I did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I SEE: so much better now that lasik surgery became a part of my life almost two years ago.  I was legally blind before the surgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I BLOG: because my baby girl (ms. Brit) got me addicted.  She's truly one of the most gifted writers out there in blog land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I READ: to take me to another place - so mostly fiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM AROUSED BY: an engineer who visits quite often...that smile, those eyes, that ass....and forget about those emails!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT PISSES ME OFF: when a stupid ass driver decides she ('cause it usually is) wants to drive in the fast lane instead of moving her stupid slow ass over to let me get by!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I FIND: that when I'm down, I can call any one of my friends and they'll either join me in my funk or they'll get me out of it and either way, it's all good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LIKE: to try new foods...going to new restaurants and enjoy trying new wines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE: the thought of being in love.  I also love the beach and will be there in two days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115150746125585994?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115150746125585994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115150746125585994' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115150746125585994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115150746125585994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-am.html' title='I am . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115133500206467026</id><published>2006-06-26T06:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T08:27:22.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something easy . . . .</title><content type='html'>I was blog surfing and ran across this and thought, why not....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Grab the book nearest you, turn to page 18 and find line 4. &lt;br /&gt;Dreamality, Bob Coy:  In God's foreknowledge He knew that with the free will He had given humanity, they would disobey Him.  (yikes) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Stretch out your left arm as far as you can. What can you touch? &lt;br /&gt;My keyboard, several pens, my coffee cup, my Steeler water mug, my phone, my notepad....can you tell I'm at work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  What is the last thing you watched on TV? &lt;br /&gt;Fox news...I wake up to it every morning.  But of course last night I watched a rerun of Grey's Anatomy....I think I missed this episode before because I've never seen Cristina cry like that and man did it crack me up, even though it was supposed to be serious....but wasn't it funny when her friends looked at her like she was a freak for crying and yet earlier they were saying she was a freak for not crying.  I love that show!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Without looking, guess what time it is. &lt;br /&gt;8:10 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Now look at the clock. What is the actual time? &lt;br /&gt;8:07 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  With the exception of the computer, what can you hear? &lt;br /&gt;I'm playing Creed's greatest hits CD....Higher is one of my favorite songs....here's part of the lyrics...."When dreaming I'm guided through another world, time and time again, at sunrise I fight to stay asleep 'cause I don't want to leave the comfort of this place 'cause there's a hunger, a longing to escape from the life I live when I'm awake...so let's go there, let's make our escape, come on, let's go there, let's ask can we stay?  Can you take me higher?  To the place where blind men see, can you take me higher?  to the place with golden streets...."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only think of one place like this and heaven calls my name every day, and I can't wait!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  When did you last step outside? What were you doing? &lt;br /&gt;About two hours ago. I was coming to work - boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  Before you started this survey, what did you look at?&lt;br /&gt;I actually worked for an hour then decided to check out my daily blogs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  What are you wearing?&lt;br /&gt;Brown capris w/a tan and turquoise top, brown and turquoise sandals and silver and turquoise jewelry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  Did you dream last night?&lt;br /&gt;HAH!!  I always dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.  When did you last laugh?&lt;br /&gt;a couple of seconds ago...actually, this morning reading an email from a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.  What is on the walls of the room you are in?&lt;br /&gt;It's a cubie, not a room - I have a mural of pics of my nephew on one side, an ode to family and friends via pics on two other walls, along w/plants, binders, all the work related stuff to look kinda professional.  Clock, calendar and a framed poster on another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.  Seen anything weird lately?&lt;br /&gt;Haven't seen my girlfriend fag in while, so no, not lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.  What do you think of this quiz?&lt;br /&gt;It's easy 'cause I don't really have to think on a Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.  What is the last film you saw?&lt;br /&gt;Nacho Libre w/dog and her niece and nephews....Jack Black is sooo stinking funny.  I laughed just typing his name!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.  If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?&lt;br /&gt;A house on the beach in Carlsbad, CA.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.  Tell me something about you that I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually shy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.  If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt and politics, what would you do?&lt;br /&gt;I'd make men be the men of God we (women) need them to be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.  Do you like to dance?&lt;br /&gt;Who doesn't!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.  George Bush??&lt;br /&gt;Love him....he's a no-nonsense, get the shit done kind of politician that I'd support every time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21.  Imagine your first child is a girl.&lt;br /&gt;Mikey a girl....hummm, yeah, can't do it.  He's all boy/man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.  Imagine your first child is a boy.&lt;br /&gt;Easy button....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23.  Would you ever consider living abroad?&lt;br /&gt;You mean again....only if I were with a special man that wanted to take me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.  What would you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gate?&lt;br /&gt;"Enter in my good and faithful servant...." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25.  3 people who must also do this quiz in their blog:&lt;br /&gt;Well, they don't HAVE to do it, but I'm going to tag Normie, KC and the brat!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115133500206467026?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115133500206467026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115133500206467026' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115133500206467026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115133500206467026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/06/something-easy.html' title='Something easy . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115107156804591755</id><published>2006-06-23T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T07:06:08.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No sleep = no brain waves . . . .</title><content type='html'>I've been feeling like crap for two days now and the only good thing that's come out of it was my boy felt bad for me.  He called me and asked if he could bring me back something since he was headed out to run errands for lunch....I said crackers would be good (my stomie wasn't doing well and I've had a persistent neck ache which shoots pain the the back of my right eye).  Anyway, after our staff meeting yesterday, I came back to find on my desk, a care package consisting of pedialyte (I had told him I hate gatorade - and believe me, pedialyte has the same "YUK" factor as gatorade), saltine crackers, a package of gummy lifesavers, a package of cream savers and a pack of gum.  How sweet was that!  As you can tell, it doesn't take much to please me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I sweated out whatever has been trying to hang on because last night, I was soaking wet when I woke up, and it wasn't the good sweat! :)  Have a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115107156804591755?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115107156804591755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115107156804591755' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115107156804591755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115107156804591755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/06/no-sleep-no-brain-waves.html' title='No sleep = no brain waves . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115082117224927854</id><published>2006-06-20T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T09:34:46.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You're killing me Smalls . . . .</title><content type='html'>My sister Robin always says things backwards . . . she just called to tell me that my other sister is having a baby girl (she had her ultrasound yesterday) but she said it like this . . .&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;robin - "well, the apple doesn't have a core..."&lt;br /&gt;me - "huh???"&lt;br /&gt;robin - "the apple doesn't have a core..."&lt;br /&gt;me - "what are you talking about??"&lt;br /&gt;robin - "teresa's having a girl..."&lt;br /&gt;me - "you're such a dork, you mean the apple doesn't have a stem..."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;We both laughed so hard . . . she kills me!  Anyway, it's a girl!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115082117224927854?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115082117224927854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115082117224927854' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115082117224927854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115082117224927854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/06/youre-killing-me-smalls.html' title='You&apos;re killing me Smalls . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115072425625718596</id><published>2006-06-19T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T06:37:36.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How cute is this boy . . .</title><content type='html'>My baby sis just sent me new pics of my two year old nephew this morning and I've got to share 'em!  He loves "locket milk" for breakfast every morning, so this is his first request as soon as he wakes up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/locket%20milk2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/locket%20milk2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They (sis, hubbie and babe) were in Germany for Mr. Nathan's 2nd birthday, but it didn't stop daddy from making him his cake!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/blow%20the%20candles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/blow%20the%20candles.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so in love w/this child....I hate that he's soooo far away!  By the way, we're going to find out today if sis is currently baking a baby girl or another boy....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115072425625718596?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115072425625718596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115072425625718596' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115072425625718596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115072425625718596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/06/how-cute-is-this-boy.html' title='How cute is this boy . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115037685352270182</id><published>2006-06-15T05:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T06:09:43.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All in the numbers . . . .</title><content type='html'>I don't have any rhyme or reason why I love numbers, but I do.  Like this morning, I woke up cold because I had forgotten to turn off my AC before falling asleep and I looked at the clock and it was 12:34.  I love that.  Don't have any reason to love that, but I do.  It's like I've told you before, my boys and I wish when we see the time 11:11.  Don't know why, we just made it up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've been really busy w/work, and in case you hadn't read my profile, I'm a budget analyst...I work w/numbers all day.  We just finished a huge project and the team I work with, is amazing.  Between the four of us, step one of this project has been completed and we balanced to the penny.  And I'm not talking thousands of dollars, I'm talking millions.  I'm bragging, I know, but sometimes you gotta toot your own horn.  All right, I'll quit now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115037685352270182?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115037685352270182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115037685352270182' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115037685352270182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115037685352270182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/06/all-in-numbers.html' title='All in the numbers . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-115020534158726619</id><published>2006-06-13T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T06:40:10.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here comes the bride . . .</title><content type='html'>I love weddings.  The wedding I went to this past weekend for my friend Teresa, was just beautiful.  She choose a simple but elegant setting to have it at, and everything about it was tasteful.  From her colors (brown, pink and cream), to the garden setting at an Inn, to her caterer, to the table setting.  Some women just know how to plan the details.  Teresa did such a great job.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When I married my now ex in 1981, my sister-in-laws planned everything.  I just showed up at a house that was someone's I didn't even know, some minister married us and we had a small reception.  Of course, all three of my girls were there, but looking back, what kind of wedding was that??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, here's a couple of pics from Teresa and Phil's wedding, starting w/the garden setting . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00300.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bride and groom . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00310.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00310.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her buds were there to party . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00318.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00318.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00331.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00331.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the girls you see in the picture of us on the dance floor, started a club years ago called the birthday club.  We used to meet for happy hour for every b-day and because of this, we've become good friends.  Since most in this group are married now, we don't meet as often, but when I see them, I still enjoy their company.  They're warm and friendly and would give you the shirt off their backs.  (I want to point out my friend Patricia since I mentioned her before as being one of my Vegas girls....she's in the bottom pic in the turquoise shirt.  She's a hoot and pretty special....she's afraid of me though....like I'm a bad influence or something??)  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-115020534158726619?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/115020534158726619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=115020534158726619' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115020534158726619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/115020534158726619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/06/here-comes-bride.html' title='Here comes the bride . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114959908998138729</id><published>2006-06-06T05:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T06:04:50.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It pays to whine . . .</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't been posting, but work has been kicking my ass!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, our trip to Austin was starting out great....that is until I see Mr. Policeman turn around in his vehicle and put his lights on me.  Now get this....I'm following behind my sister (she's driving my aunt's car) and another vehicle is ahead of her that she's been following so we're cruising along just fine....just a little over the speed limit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Mr. Officer comes up to my window and asks "do you know why I pulled you over?"  In my most whiney voice, I responded "well I can guess . . . but I was just following them (pointing to the cars that have now left me in the dust)!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He actually laughed and said I was going 81 in a 70, then asked where I was headed....and of course, if you can imagine my voice getting anymore whiney, (it actually did)....I responded "to Austin for my cousin's graduation, but I'll probably be late now."  He's still smiling, takes my license and goes to his car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comes back with a warning and tells me to SLOW DOWN...."yes sir, I will........NOT!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swear to goodness, coming back home, we got clocked again - this time my sister.  That officer was so ready to turn on us -  he had us locked and had even pulled over to turn around, but I don't know if it was us staring at him with our most sad faces or what, but he didn't come after us.  We got spared, twice!!  Anyway, it does pay to whine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114959908998138729?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114959908998138729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114959908998138729' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114959908998138729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114959908998138729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/06/it-pays-to-whine.html' title='It pays to whine . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114913319422853188</id><published>2006-05-31T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T20:41:21.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a gut feeling . . . .</title><content type='html'>I've been talking to my boy a lot lately, and I'm feeling like something's changing.  We're changing.  I can't explain it, just call it a gut feeling, but something's gonna happen between us.  I don't know what yet....but I'm feeling stronger vibes from him.  Deeper conversations, longer visits, more email.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so damn ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114913319422853188?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114913319422853188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114913319422853188' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114913319422853188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114913319422853188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/05/just-gut-feeling.html' title='Just a gut feeling . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114830368096117915</id><published>2006-05-22T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T08:20:25.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The letter "L"</title><content type='html'>I was out in blog land last week and was reading &lt;a href="http://nfhndarcey.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ms. Muse's&lt;/a&gt;.  I commented, and she in turn gave me a letter to continue this meme . . .here's how it works:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to comment on this entry, I will give you a letter. Write ten words beginning with that letter in your journal, including an explanation of what the word means to you and why, and then pass out letters to those who want to play along.....here's mine....&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;laughter&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:  It means happiness - food for my soul.  Is there anything as fun as laughing w/friends and family or being laughed at by friends and family?  Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;love&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:  Saying "I love you" is easy for me to those who are special in my life.  My babies get my love unconditionally....my family and friends, same thing.  What I want though, is to be able to someday again say this to a special man.  Yeah, I'm missing that part.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;listen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:  Not a skill, a couple of my friends claim, that I have.  But I disagree.  It's not that I don't listen, it's just that I'm not always interested.  Big difference!  My mind wanders when they're talking about the same subject for 10 minutes, ok.  I go off somewhere else, but I take in the jest of what's being said.  Ask me anything about them....I can answer it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;London&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, England:  My new fav city to party.  Never in a million years would I have thought I'd claim a foreign country as one of my favorite places on this earth, but I'm telling you....London was deliciously fun.  The sightseeing, the underground, the double-deckers and most importantly, the pubs.  That was a vacation to remember!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lips&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:  They just turn me on.  I see lips on a man first, then see the rest of his face.  I think this fetish started in high school when kissing (only kissing) was the thing to do.  These girls now are missing the best part of being young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lakes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:  Since I haven't always lived by the ocean, the next best thing is having family and friends with lake houses and houseboats.  An aunt and uncle of mine started us going to Elephant Butte Lake in the 70's and the same aunt and uncle bought a lake house on Conchas Lake.  I love the water, and since fam/friends have all the toys to play, I'm there!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lunch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:  I go out to lunch just about every day w/my friends from work.  At times it's tedious, just trying to figure out where to go, but it's our social time.  I'm very close w/some of my girlfriends from work because of this time of day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lyrics&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:  I love song lyrics.  They move me.  For the most part, I can't totally enjoy a song until I learn the words.  It started when I used to read them from the middle of an album cover.  It was like candy, getting a new album and being able to sit and listen (see...I can listen) and read and learn the new lyrics to whatever album was the flavor for the day.  Now, I enjoy cd's that provide the words, just as much.  I hate it when they don't include the lyrics...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lauryn&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Hill:  Speaking of lyrics...Ms. Hill is now one of my most favorite rappers ever.  Her voice is heaven and her lyrics to her songs are strong and actually have deep meaning.  I wish she'd come out w/something new and blow us away....again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lens&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:  As in eye of the camera.  I love pictures and being surrounded by them.  I wish I could show you a picture of my office because you'd see about 100 plus pics of my family and friends.  I work in a limited secure area, so no cameras allowed...but pictures are, and they make my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114830368096117915?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114830368096117915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114830368096117915' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114830368096117915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114830368096117915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/05/letter-l.html' title='The letter &quot;L&quot;'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114802967782996745</id><published>2006-05-19T01:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T06:35:31.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes you can't contain the beast within . .</title><content type='html'>Can't sleep . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did anyone watch the news tonight??  OMG, this alligator was terrorizing a community and a gator catcher caught him.  They showed this gator being lifted by a tow truck onto the bed of another truck, with the catcher standing inside the bed of the other truck.  Well the mother of a gator was pissed!  It arched it's back as it was being hoisted, and slashed it's tail over it's own body and nailed the catchers face.  That must have hurt.  Just goes to show, you can't contain the beast within.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which reminds me of my favorite Grey's Anatomy line ever.  Izzy was walking out of her bedroom one morning and her roommates were staring at her.  They were thinking one thing and she thought they were thinking something totally different so she responded "WHAT???  I fed the beast OK, I'm a horny whore!"  I love that show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114802967782996745?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114802967782996745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114802967782996745' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114802967782996745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114802967782996745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/05/sometimes-you-cant-contain-beast.html' title='Sometimes you can&apos;t contain the beast within . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114796075034194641</id><published>2006-05-18T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T07:58:33.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a dreamer . . . .</title><content type='html'>I dream every night.  Most times, I remember my dreams and they're bizarre.  They're very detailed and I have even laughed so hard in my dreams, that I wake myself up.  I very rarely dream scary dreams - and if they are scary (in my mind), it's always about the ocean engulfing me, or that I haven't locked the doors in a house that I never been in or isn't my own.  I dream in color, and I can taste food in my dreams.  And the best dreams are the kissing dreams - I feel everything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do I bring this up....well lately, I've been daydreaming.  Yeah.  Like yesterday, I was reading a book during my lunch hour and I had to re-read a paragraph at least 5 times.  I could not stop thinking about someone.  I hate that this person consumes me.  Last night in church, I totally tuned out one of our pastors.  I guess, at least, I listened to the other two, but the second one, couldn't tell you one thing he said.  I'm thinking this isn't a good trait to have....that of a daydreamer....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114796075034194641?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114796075034194641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114796075034194641' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114796075034194641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114796075034194641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/05/im-dreamer.html' title='I&apos;m a dreamer . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114770103297458034</id><published>2006-05-15T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T07:03:53.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>5 down, 1 to go . . . .</title><content type='html'>How can we be so old that now all but one of our babies have graduated from high school?  This will happen in two weeks by the way, and then all of the toes you see in my pic will have high school graduates.  It feels like we just walked across the line and accepted our diploma.  We went in such different directions, my girls and I, but always, always, came together.  The family I'm gonna show you is one of my most fav fams ever!  I can't even believe that I actually tear up when I think of how special they are to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first is fag and her baby girl . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/staci%26karen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/staci%26karen.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is fags fam . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/shawfam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/shawfam.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soul mates . . . minus one . . . (she's in Austin)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/soulmates.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/soulmates.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see why we call her fag . . . :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/kissee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/kissee.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dog, her baby and my baby . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/boygirlmom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/boygirlmom.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, another busy weekend.  I had a wonderful mother's day because my boys made it special.  Plus, I met my sister, brother and dad at the casino and won $500!!!!  It was awesome.  I've never won that much, but that's mostly because I'm cheap and won't put down bucks the way you should if you really want to win.  Anyway, guess my trip to Austin in a couple weeks (to see the last of our babies graduate), is paid for!  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114770103297458034?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114770103297458034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114770103297458034' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114770103297458034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114770103297458034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/05/5-down-1-to-go.html' title='5 down, 1 to go . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114735427572024781</id><published>2006-05-11T06:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T06:31:15.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You've just entered into . . . .</title><content type='html'>the Twilight Zone . . .(que in music . . . )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boy thinks I'm scary....his words...."you're scary mom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that I have a sixth sense about my sons.  Last night I'm driving home and think of my baby, so I call him.  But first let me tell you that he was supposed to take his new/used vehicle to a friend's shop for him to check out our purchase two weekends ago....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Hey boy - whatcha doing?"&lt;br /&gt;Son:  "Just going to dinner w/Bo....what are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "What did Dale say about your truck?"&lt;br /&gt;Son:  "He hadn't finished looking at it, so he's keeping it overnight."  &lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Ok, so you won't have a vehicle tomorrow?"&lt;br /&gt;Son:  "He'll call me in the morning....Mom, did you know I just got off the phone with him just three minutes before you called?"&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Seriously??"&lt;br /&gt;Son:  "Seriously....you're scary Mom....I don't know how you do that."&lt;br /&gt;Me:  evil laugh, throws her head back....MUUUUAAAHHHHH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've done this thing w/him so many times in our lifetime that I almost think I do scare him (que in music again . . . ), which isn't a bad thing in my books!!! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114735427572024781?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114735427572024781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114735427572024781' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114735427572024781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114735427572024781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/05/youve-just-entered-into.html' title='You&apos;ve just entered into . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114718000260688271</id><published>2006-05-09T05:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T06:07:25.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Vegas Girls. . . .</title><content type='html'>First, a little background on my friendship w/these women.  Some people you just connect w/at work, and I'm not a social seeker of people - I kinda stay in my cubby and work.  But when I started working the budget in this groups division several years ago, we've been connected since.  Finally, last year, we took a girls trip to Vegas and since then, fuhgetaboutit!  We happy hour as much as time and family and friends allow us to.  This year, we decided to start something a little different in that we actually are planning social events, (not just happy hour), like going to someone's house for dinner, a movie night, go to a concert, etc.  Well Ms. Chris (she's in the brown shirt) picked a concert for us this month and as noted below, we had a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me, good golly (Molly), Chris, Shari &amp; Pat . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/Vegas%20Girls%20013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/Vegas%20Girls%20013.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/Vegas%20Girls%20015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/Vegas%20Girls%20015.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/Vegas%20Girls%20016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/Vegas%20Girls%20016.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/Vegas%20Girls%20018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/Vegas%20Girls%20018.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the only reason we're in bed is because we were tired... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're actually missing two other women.  Linda, who is in Boston this week, babysitting the grandbabies, and Patricia, who just party pooped on us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I love hanging w/these girls...they keep me young...or old???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114718000260688271?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114718000260688271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114718000260688271' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114718000260688271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114718000260688271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/05/my-vegas-girls.html' title='My Vegas Girls. . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114709642963343553</id><published>2006-05-08T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T06:53:49.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three hours of sleep just isn't enough . . .</title><content type='html'>Last night, my Vegas girls and I went to an outdoor concert at Sandia Casino.  Very fun, and I'll have pics later, but do you think we could just go home after said concert....NO....these girls don't know how to leave and go home early.  Instead, we went inside the casino and listened to another band and decided to dance 'till our feet hurt (and knees).  Then, we got invited to go to a private party for one of the singers who played at the outdoor concert.  We got up there and almost had to leave immediately since we (my peeps and I) all have clearances, and what they were smoking could easily get us in deep shit.  Thankfully they were finished and we ended up entertaining ourselves which is why I love these women.  We did finally leave and I took a couple of the girls back to the house we left from, and got all the way home when my cell rang....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey Nettie....there's a bag I left in your back seat w/my car keys...I'm sorry!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No worries, what's another half hour of sleep anyway???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114709642963343553?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114709642963343553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114709642963343553' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114709642963343553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114709642963343553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/05/three-hours-of-sleep-just-isnt-enough.html' title='Three hours of sleep just isn&apos;t enough . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114650015945392714</id><published>2006-05-01T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T09:16:38.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So different, but the same....</title><content type='html'>My brother invited my sister and me to a dinner party that he and his girlfriend were throwing last Friday night.  Of course I went and took dogalogy w/me (or should I say Rudy - short for Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer).  I had a great time and I think Dog did, but she's a lot more conservative than I am.  What I mean by that is she only had two drinks the whole night (five hour period), compared to my five glasses of wine and maybe four shots of tequila (she drove).  What I regretted about that night (or morning) is that I didn't take home some of the leftovers...seriously good food...especially the steak I had!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my brother...he's a trip...he's so different.  He hangs with a crowd that has money.  Big money.  The kind of money that buys planes.  The kind of money that his friends have access to, to build million dollar homes....that get them acknowledged in New Mexico's Parade of Homes.  Now granted, he's doing well himself (he's self employed selling commercial real estate, he owns several properties, is part owner of a club in Vegas and owns several vehicles), but it always amazes me that he can still be such a dork.  As much as we don't have anything in common as far as material things, we're so much alike when we party and listen to music.  Plus, both he and I love to talk to new people and aren't afraid of engaging someone to find out their story.  I'm not as skilled as he is with the gift of gab, but I do enjoy meeting his friends and finding out about them.  It's weird that even though he's 10 years younger than I, I still have fun w/him and his friends.  I'm pretty spoiled by them actually.  Anytime we go anywhere and even at his girlfriends' house, they (his friends) feel the need to take care of me (my food, my drink, etc.).  I like it, but more important, I think he's made wise choices with the friends in his circle, just like I have.  We've got friends for life and there's nothing more special than that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114650015945392714?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114650015945392714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114650015945392714' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114650015945392714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114650015945392714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/05/so-different-but-same.html' title='So different, but the same....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114597204569777202</id><published>2006-04-25T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T13:02:34.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving this toy . . . .</title><content type='html'>Because I have this new toy, and because I'm a mom who adores her sons, here's a pic of them on my oldest's bday last week (he's 24 sitting inside the truck).  My baby will soon be 21 and it just doesn't feel like I could possibly be this old.  Maybe because my friends keep me young (at heart...) or immature...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/bdayboy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/bdayboy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dogalogy, Annie and me at the baseball game the same night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/grls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/grls.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of young...I had all my girls over for Dogalogy and Fags b-day this past Friday - they're both April babies.  Now look at these women....they do not look 46!!  But I speak from experience, they both can act 26...:)...we've even embarrassed our kids with our behavior....but isn't that how it should be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/bdaygrl.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/bdaygrl.2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/bdaygrl2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/bdaygrl2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114597204569777202?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114597204569777202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114597204569777202' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114597204569777202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114597204569777202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/04/loving-this-toy.html' title='Loving this toy . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114554426898607290</id><published>2006-04-20T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T07:44:29.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a happy girl . . .</title><content type='html'>I got to enjoy my swing in my back yard last night for the first time in months.  When I got back from England, my front and back yards were full of weeds, all my shrubs and rose bushes had grown a foot, dead leaves everywhere, so just in general, my yards looked like crap (and I have xeriscaping)!  So what's a person who HATES yard work to do???......hire someone to clean it and make it look pretty again.  So I did and it does and I'm happy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I got to sit in my swing, drink my tea, watch contrails in the sky, and read my book until the sun started setting and I started to get chilled.  My boyz gave me my swing (from Costco) for mothers day last year....one of my best gifts ever!  So officially, last night was the start of my obsession w/my swing.  I love warm weather.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114554426898607290?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114554426898607290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114554426898607290' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114554426898607290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114554426898607290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/04/im-happy-girl.html' title='I&apos;m a happy girl . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114536690513020868</id><published>2006-04-18T06:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T06:58:35.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random stuff . . . .</title><content type='html'>I'm seriously addicted to coffee.  Yesterday my stomie wasn't feeling hot and I drank tea instead and I swear, I yawned the entire day.  My body needs caffeine.  I feel bad for people addicted to cigarettes and alcohol, because if I'm just addicted to caffeine (possibly carbs too), it must be awful to need those other substances.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my sister needs my help last night with a powerpoint slide presentation for a class she's taking.  Did I mention how tired I was yesterday, all day, without my caffeine?  My family loves to act dumb when it suits their fancy....you know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My oldest son turned 24 this past Saturday, and he wanted to go watch our baseball team, the Isotopes.  We planned to first meet for dinner but I ran to get our tickets first, and when I was walking back to my car, I tripped...in the grass, but I fell hard on my left knee.  What's weird is my right ankle is what twisted, but it's my left thigh that has bothered me the most - it keeps wanting to cramp up on me making me walk with a limp.  Is this part of the aging process?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was an absolute beautiful day.  We started early at UNM football stadium for our annual sunrise service.  The band that began our worship was amazing, the Todd &lt;a href="http://http://www.toddagnew.com/index.html"&gt;Agnew&lt;/a&gt; band...WOW!  Then we got to listen to the message from Ryan Dobson, son of James Dobson from "Focus on the Family."  Again, very blessed.  Spent the rest of the day w/family, of course eating all day...first breakfast w/pops and fam, then dinner w/mom and fam.  I still feel full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we're back to Monday, and I felt like crap all day yesterday....walked w/a limp and basically looked like I felt....like an old hag.  Today's better and my mind is functioning since I've had a full cup of joe.  Thank you Lord, that my stomie doesn't feel bad everyday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114536690513020868?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114536690513020868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114536690513020868' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114536690513020868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114536690513020868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/04/random-stuff.html' title='Random stuff . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114494578735728376</id><published>2006-04-13T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T06:28:58.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I appreciate the U.S. of A.</title><content type='html'>Not every difference was a bad thing, I just found that some of the differences between the Brits and us were just weird.  For instance, lets just start with the driving thing...I don't understand driving on the right side and having a steering wheel on the right side of your car, and you'll never convince me it's better.  I never drove out there because I was sure I'd get us in a wreck.  Not only do you have to learn how to maneuver, there's a totally different set of rules for the road.  In the country, there aren't many lights, instead they use roundabouts which eventually I got the hang of, but initially they just freaked me out, because I felt like we were always going to get hit.  By the time I left England though, I told my sister that I kinda liked not having to deal w/streetlights and we could use more of those roundabouts out here.  On the other hand, they have the best cars...they're typically smaller and faster.  There's no SUV's hogging the road (I only saw two full size trucks and they were on the American base where my brother-in-law is stationed), but their roads are so small that they wouldn't fit even if they had them.  What they do have are models of Fords, GM, etc., that are not in the U.S.  Plus, they have lots of their own brands, like the Smart &lt;a href="http://www.smart.com/-snm-0168266220-1144329346-0000001245-0000002403-1144947083-enm-is-bin/INTERSHOP.enfinity/WFS/mpc-uk-content-Site/en_UK/-/GBP/SVCPresentationPipeline-Start?Page=issite%3a%2f%2fmpc-uk-Site%2fmpc-uk%2ecom%2fRootFolder%2fsmart%2fhome%2epage"&gt;Car&lt;/a&gt; (I love this car - I just like smaller cars in general).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let’s talk about their appliances.  Everything from the dishwasher, to the stove/oven, to the washer/dryer is half the size of ours.  My sister can't even load their dinner plates in the dishwasher because they're too large...yes, dinner plates!!!  My sister does laundry ALL DAY LONG....she has to, to keep up w/it since she has her two men at home.  Their washer might fit three pair of jeans or three bath towels and a few washrags.  Again, don't get it.  And forget about making a turkey for Thanksgiving in that oven!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know that they don't put screens on their windows because if they do, they get taxed?  Yeah, so in the warmer months (there is no air conditioning) they get all kinds of insects flying around.  There is no water pressure, so I always felt soapy and to heat the water in their showers, you had to pull a cord that triggered the electricity to fire up whatever it was that eventually came out lukewarm.  (Yes, sarcasm.)  Their stairs are half the size of ours, which meant for me, I always had to hold the railing because only half my foot fit (and I only wear a 7 1/2 shoe size).  Even their light switches are half the size of ours.  Are we just a gluttonous country?  Speaking of gluttony, they only have trash pick-up, every other week.  Talk about the trash runneth over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, what else....the hotel we stayed at in London didn't have sheets for us to cover up with....I had to use the bedspread and I NEVER use a hotels bedspread....eewwwww!  I did like that you're not required to tip out there, but we did just because we're used to it.  Don't even bother taking a blow dryer or curling iron out there because their sockets are the size of baseballs.  I'm sure there's more stuff, but I'm running out of steam so I'll stop for now.  Bottom line is I love America, and there's no other place like it....but it's nice to get away to appreciate what we have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114494578735728376?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114494578735728376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114494578735728376' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114494578735728376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114494578735728376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/04/why-i-appreciate-us-of.html' title='Why I appreciate the U.S. of A.'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114471020150346517</id><published>2006-04-10T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T18:39:35.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It was very different, but amazing....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00001.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well I'm going to try my hand at this picture thing, so enjoy.  This first pic is of me in front of the "royal" mail box, in the town of Bury St. Edmond.&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00059.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is a cathedral in the town of Ely and the next pic shows the stained glass I talked about in my earlier post.  There were so many windows, but I wanted to show how amazing just one was (my dad, sister and my nephew are in the foreground).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00067.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00077.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Of course I have to show Big Ben and the Parliment (my sis, me and dad)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00087.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Westminster and Buckingham are next....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00084.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00084.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00104.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/1600/DSC00122.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7639/1995/320/DSC00122.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And just for good measure, a pic of me w/my nephew in a castle in the town of Norwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many pics, but I won't bore you w/them all.  I'll write more about my experience and how different the culture, but hope this is a good enough start. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114471020150346517?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114471020150346517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114471020150346517' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114471020150346517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114471020150346517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/04/it-was-very-different-but-amazing.html' title='It was very different, but amazing....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114413829647701029</id><published>2006-04-04T01:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T03:39:25.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Set your expectations low.....</title><content type='html'>I've had sooooo much fun here in England.  I really wasn't looking forward to this trip, but it has turned out to be really fun and the sightseeing spectacular!  I've been to a lovely town call Bury St. Edmonds where we shopped at the market.  We've been to Ely and toured a cathedral so old and so beautiful, with stained glass that takes your breath away.  Went to Oxford yesterday and I spent a pretty penny on....of course, jewelery (oh you girls are going to love my new bracelet and earrings).  We took a train into London for a couple of days and did sightseeing on a double decker and used the underground to other places (I now understand "mind the gap").   We tried to go see the play Phantom, but it was sold out on a Friday night, so we went pubbing instead.  I had way too much fun.  The Brits know how to party just as well as us Americans.  All in all, my time here has been eventful and never boring.  I've got a couple more days before heading back home and we're either going to a castle or Cambridge tomorrow.  We'll see if I win or my dad :).  Guess what I want to do??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114413829647701029?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114413829647701029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114413829647701029' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114413829647701029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114413829647701029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/04/set-your-expectations-low.html' title='Set your expectations low.....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114404999709399154</id><published>2006-04-03T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T01:09:20.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and I don't know why???</title><content type='html'>So I've been in Enland for over a week and the whole time my blog has been blank.  Bloody blogger!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114404999709399154?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114404999709399154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114404999709399154' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114404999709399154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114404999709399154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/04/and-i-dont-know-why.html' title='and I don&apos;t know why???'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114261769178418989</id><published>2006-03-17T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T09:56:34.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>101 Things to know about me....</title><content type='html'>I'm going to Mildenhall, England next week for two weeks to visit my sister, so I'd thought I'd put this list of 101 things to know about me while I'm gone.  If you have any suggestions of what I should see in London, please let me know, I'd love to hear about your experiences!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;101 Things to Know about Annette&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1.  I love summer.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Which means I love to be around water.&lt;br /&gt;3.  And I'm not picky about what body of water, but especially love the ocean, but I'm just as happy if I'm in a pool or a lake or river.&lt;br /&gt;4.  I learned to love the water when we lived in Florida from 1968-1970.&lt;br /&gt;5.  I've lived overseas because my Dad was in the Navy.&lt;br /&gt;6.  Asmara, Ethiopia to be exact.  &lt;br /&gt;7.  I learned to water ski, sail, scuba dive, and snorkel in the Red Sea.&lt;br /&gt;8.  I still keep in contact w/3 of my friends from Asmara, thanks to the internet (I lived there over 33 years ago).&lt;br /&gt;9.  I'm a shopaholic.&lt;br /&gt;10.  I love jewelry, clothes, purses and sandals.&lt;br /&gt;11.  This addiction has gotten worse as I've gotten older and I'm becoming a label whore.&lt;br /&gt;12.  Although......I can wear costume jewelry or the real thing - as long as I have lots of it on me.&lt;br /&gt;13.  If there was one actor I could meet (and shag) it'd be Edgar &lt;a href="http://it.movies.yahoo.com/051016/20/1bmxc.html"&gt;Ramirez&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;14.  I have never been so smitten by an actor while watching a movie, the way he smit me watching Domino.&lt;br /&gt;15.  I'm initially attracted to bad boys, but since I'm older and wiser, I've been going more for the good guys.&lt;br /&gt;16.  I've really enjoyed drinking wine in the past couple of years.&lt;br /&gt;17.  Initially it was blushes and whites, but now I've graduated to reds.&lt;br /&gt;18.  When I go out drinking w/the girls, I usually drink gin and seven.&lt;br /&gt;19.  I miss having sex!&lt;br /&gt;20.  I'll have been separated and divorced from my ex, 10 years in May.&lt;br /&gt;21.  We had two beautiful sons together.&lt;br /&gt;22.  My sons are the lights of my life.&lt;br /&gt;23.  They  complete me.&lt;br /&gt;24.  I love chocolate - especially dark.&lt;br /&gt;25.  Cheese, chocolate and chips are my downfall.&lt;br /&gt;26.  My favorite food is pepperoni &amp; jalapeño pizza.&lt;br /&gt;27.  But if I had to choose my last meal, I'd choose steak, bake potato and salad w/blue cheese dressing.&lt;br /&gt;28.  My favorite home made meal is lasagna.&lt;br /&gt;29.  I can be a procrastinator&lt;br /&gt;30.  My hardest b-day was my 30th.&lt;br /&gt;31.  I love to laugh.&lt;br /&gt;32.  My girlfriends from high school make me laugh hardest.&lt;br /&gt;33.  The toes on my blog are their toes -  Gina (Lucy), Karen (Fag), Vic (Dogology) and me on top!&lt;br /&gt;34.  I named this blog popsicle toes after a song by Michael Franks (the Art of Tea).&lt;br /&gt;35.  My ex used to call me popsicle toes since he'd let me warm them up every night under his.&lt;br /&gt;36.  I miss that about him.&lt;br /&gt;37.  Lips on a man are the sexiest thing about them - then hands.&lt;br /&gt;38.  Coffee is the nectar of the gods!&lt;br /&gt;39.  I hate to talk to anyone before I've had it in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;40.  And it's not because I'm in a bad mood either, it's just I need a kick start.&lt;br /&gt;41.  Half &amp; half only - no skim, no non-dairy creamer . . . w/lots of sugar - no splenda, no equal and no saccharine!&lt;br /&gt;42.  42 has always been one of my favorite numbers because of my first love Harry Cash - his football jersey number.&lt;br /&gt;43.  My favorite time of day is after I've washed my face, brushed my teeth, gotten my water and slip into the covers.&lt;br /&gt;44.  I love my bed and thank God for how good it feels all the time.&lt;br /&gt;45.  I'm a sucker for email surveys.&lt;br /&gt;46.  I'm amazed at how addicted I've become to blogging and reading other's blogs.&lt;br /&gt;47.  I haven't told any of my immediate family members about my blog.&lt;br /&gt;48.  Partly because I want to write about them ;-) and not have them respond.&lt;br /&gt;49.  My sisters and brother are beautiful, crazy and annoying all in the same package.&lt;br /&gt;50.  How am I going to make it to 101??&lt;br /&gt;51.  As if you didn't know by now, I'm a Steeler fan.&lt;br /&gt;52.  Meeting Jerome Bettis and Heniz Ward have been one of the highlights of my life.&lt;br /&gt;53.  I'm OCD about my checkbook balance.&lt;br /&gt;54.  I balance to the penny at least 3 times a week.&lt;br /&gt;55.  And it's not like there's much there.&lt;br /&gt;56.  I traded my 2002 beetle last November and bought a Mazda 3. &lt;br /&gt;57.  I speed way too much in this car.&lt;br /&gt;58.  I think I'm one of the best drivers on the road :).&lt;br /&gt;59.  I drive my friends (from work) to lunch just about every day,  because they drive like old ladies.&lt;br /&gt;60.  They say I scare them - that's 'cause they drive like old ladies.&lt;br /&gt;61.  I love pedicures and get one at least every third week.&lt;br /&gt;62.  I don't dye my brownish black hair and now it's turning silver (doesn't that sound better than grey).&lt;br /&gt;63.  I'm addicted to Avon's dew kiss lip gloss (if it's considered gloss).&lt;br /&gt;64.  I could never be on Survivor because I would need my dew kiss and my toothbrush.&lt;br /&gt;65.  I floss just about every day.&lt;br /&gt;66.  I have over 100 pictures in my office of my family and friends (some in frames, some in collages, but mostly just posted up by pins).&lt;br /&gt;67.  I just bought new dishes - olive green, terracotta, gold and eggplant.&lt;br /&gt;68.  Since Dogology bought me martini glasses for my 46th b-day, I made martini's for the first time last weekend.&lt;br /&gt;69.  I love to dance - but not to country western (I'm a klutz when someone leads).&lt;br /&gt;70.  Music has always been important in my life.&lt;br /&gt;71.  I used to love to fly, but lately flying makes me queasy and off balance.&lt;br /&gt;72.  I'm dreading the flight overseas!&lt;br /&gt;73.  I'd rather be going someplace where it's hot and sunny, with a beach (so what if I've already said this).&lt;br /&gt;74.  I like chocolate chip cookies w/out nuts.&lt;br /&gt;75.  Walnuts and pecans chew up my mouth (I think I'm allergic).&lt;br /&gt;76.  I like drinking milk w/chocolate chip cookies (or chocolate cake).&lt;br /&gt;77.  Cereal is the best breakfast for me.&lt;br /&gt;78.  I mostly don't eat breakfast though.&lt;br /&gt;79.  After I eat, I always have to blow my nose.&lt;br /&gt;80.  My family (and friends) hate this 'cause they say I sound like a foghorn.&lt;br /&gt;81.  I hate shoes, and mostly wear sandals or flip flops, even in the winter.&lt;br /&gt;82.  I can get away with it here in NM only because it's sunny most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;83.  I get about 20-30 catalogs a week in the mail.&lt;br /&gt;84.  I only order from about 6 catalogs.&lt;br /&gt;85.  I'm fairly organized and love my house to be.&lt;br /&gt;86.  At work, my cubicle is a hodge podge of junk and doesn't reflect how my house looks at all.&lt;br /&gt;87.  I love to give advice, if asked.&lt;br /&gt;88.  I'm really liking having male friends, they give a different perspective on how I see things.&lt;br /&gt;89.  I like to gamble, but my limit has been not losing more than $100 in an evening.&lt;br /&gt;90.  I don't go that often so feel this limit is ok.&lt;br /&gt;91.  I love going to new restaurants and trying new food.&lt;br /&gt;92.  I don't like sushi and have tried it many times since I lived in Hawaii and the women I worked with brought it in every day for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;93.  I love sunrises and sunsets.&lt;br /&gt;94.  I love lightening storms.&lt;br /&gt;95.  I love going to arts and crafts shows and seeing how talented people are - it always amazes me what people can create with their hands.&lt;br /&gt;96.  I don't like crowds, but it doesn't limit me from going to crowded places.&lt;br /&gt;97.  I'm too quick to anger, if someone has cut me off on the road or you drive to slow.&lt;br /&gt;98.  I generally speak my mind.&lt;br /&gt;99.  I used to be somewhat introverted, but over the years, this has changed.&lt;br /&gt;100.  I hate writing letters with a pen - typing and emailing it is so much faster.&lt;br /&gt;101.  I feel I've accomplished a lot with this list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114261769178418989?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114261769178418989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114261769178418989' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114261769178418989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114261769178418989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/03/101-things-to-know-about-me.html' title='101 Things to know about me....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114235832721058062</id><published>2006-03-14T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T10:57:18.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where would you go . . . .</title><content type='html'>I watched the strangest movie last night - Donnie Darko w/Jake &lt;a href="http://www.jakegyllenhaal.com/donniedarko.html"&gt;Gyllenhaal&lt;/a&gt;.  I'm still debating w/myself on if I like it or not, but I will tell you, it makes you think about it, A LOT!  There is something that happens in the movie that changes the course of his life.  It made me think about what I would change if I could go back in time and do it differently - and know I was doing it differently.  If I had one chance to change one thing, what would I choose?  This thought kept me awake all night, and I couldn't choose one thing, there were so many, how could I choose just one event....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)  My grandma died on my 5th b-day in 1965, and I was already very close to her since we lived w/my grandparents while my dad was in Vietnam.  If it were possible, I'd go back and tell her that her heart was going to give out soon and that she needed to take care of it before my b-day.  I don't even know if they could do anything back then, but she had no warning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  My friend Val died my senior year in high school.  He went rock climbing and fell to his death.  I would go back and stop him so that his family and his friends wouldn't have grieved such a loss.  He was a beautiful man, with a beautiful spirit and he knew how to have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  I would love to go back to the day my high school boyfriend got in a car accident that changed his life.  It wasn't fatal, but they had to put his head in traction for a month.  After that accident, he became addicted to pain killers and alcohol.  He never was the same after that.  I saw him about 8 years ago and he was going into another facility to dry him out.  To this day, his mom doesn't have contact w/him.  Like any girl in high school, I thought he was the one I'd marry, but he abused himself to the point I couldn't stay w/him any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  I was dating my ex and flirting w/someone who was a customer at the bank I worked for at the time.  I know he was interested in me and we had lunch a few times.  I wonder what would have happened if I would have opened door number two, instead of getting pregnant....(and believe me, I would in no way change having my sons, but, I still wonder)....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  Which leads me to wonder, what my life would have been like if I'd known Christ personally at this juncture in my life, instead of later when things were hard in my marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)  I also wonder, knowing what I know now, would I change the course of my marriage (my mistakes, my blunders).  Would I change how I was towards my ex, or would I let it run its course?  I'm not sure about this because I feel so much happier w/out him, but would have staying w/him change my sons in any way?  I feel they're great kids (young men), but would their lives be different if we would have stayed together?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many things I would have done differently knowing what I know, but then again, my life is awesome, thanks to God's grace.  But still, you wonder....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you change anything??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114235832721058062?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114235832721058062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114235832721058062' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114235832721058062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114235832721058062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/03/where-would-you-go.html' title='Where would you go . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114226520388611722</id><published>2006-03-13T07:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T09:17:09.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to sleep in, but . . . .</title><content type='html'>I really need to slow down - I'm so exhausted this a.m. and feel a wellness day coming on soonly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Thursday night, rushed out of work to make it across town to watch the semi-finals of a girls basketball game.  One of my best friend's husband coaches a high school team and their season has been amazing.  They won that night so next night was state finals.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday woke up and wanted to sleep all day (I have every other Friday off), but knew I needed to spend time w/mom (she's been feeling neglected) so called her and we did the shopping at Costco, run errands and the movie thing (saw Failure to Launch w/Matthew - he was gorgeous, the movie was just ok).  After I dropped her off later in the evening, I went and picked up girlfriends and we went to dinner before going to the game.  Does anyone love Pei Wei as much as we do?  Anyway, the game was at 8:00 p.m. and I was already tired, but the game actually energized me 'cause it was awesome.  They won and my friend's husband got his just due.  He's been coaching the girls at this high school for 10 years and has come close, but his team finally took state.  We're so proud of him and his coaching staff, and then those girls...they wanted it and never let go of their lead.  After, we went out to eat and then went to one of the coach’s house to celebrate.  Needless to say, a long night, into the wee morning hours.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, woke up and wanted to sleep all day, but couldn't again because in my infinite wisdom, I invited my friends over for a dinner party that night.  You know what that meant....I started my sauce for lasagna and then went shopping for everything else.  I made a salad, bruschetta and artichoke/spinach dip for appetizers, garlic bread and strawberry shortcake for dessert.  I felt like I was cooking all day...and if I wasn't cooking, I was cleaning.  I pulled it off, because at 5:00 that evening, all the girls showed up and everything was ready.  I started them all w/pomegranate martini's...they were yummy!  A couple of the girls stayed late, so again, a late night for me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's Sunday, I want to sleep in, but my dad calls and wants me to meet him at the arts and crafts show so that I can help him decide if he should buy some pieces he saw the day before.  No sleeping in - must get to church - must meet pops!  I felt like the Dunkin Donuts guy.  So, that wasn't enough for me....no, I had to invite my family over for dinner since I had leftovers.  It wasn't that bad actually, since everything was already made.  I just had to warm things up and make more bread.  Things were going great, until my mom decides to make her snide comment about me not liking her food (anything New Mexican which means anything w/chili).  First let me tell you that my mom is the best cook EVER.  There isn't anything that I don't love of hers.  It started (the discussion that led to an argument, that led to disgust, that led to having the thoughts of "please go home now" which led to why????) because I was telling her and my sister about the salsa that my girlfriend makes (the best ever - she also makes the best guacamole) and my mom blurts out how I've never liked her cooking.  She then changes it to say anything w/heat (meaning chili), which is a crock since she taught me how to cook.  Oh man, for the rest of the night I had to listen to "poor me, I'm so neglected."  Can you tell we have a love/hate relationship.  She is a great mom, she's just not a great friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, they left half-way thru Desperate Housewives, which was good since I especially was looking forward to Greys last night.  My poor sister was the mediator between us, but honestly, I just agreed to the negative my mom has to say about me.  I quit fighting w/her years ago, even though she still tries to find fault with me.  If I'm sounding bitter, I'm really not, I have learned I will never be what my mom wants me to be - we are on different planes spiritually, politically, and everything in between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my weekend kept me busy, and I'm tired, but I wouldn't have it any other way. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Monday everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114226520388611722?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114226520388611722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114226520388611722' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114226520388611722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114226520388611722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-want-to-sleep-in-but.html' title='I want to sleep in, but . . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114186117541341293</id><published>2006-03-08T16:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T16:39:35.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunch with "the boy"</title><content type='html'>Went to lunch w/him yesterday and feel somewhat satisfied since we rarely have spent time away from work together.  I'm the one who initiates us leaving the restaurant, I'm the one who initiates us getting out of the car and I'm the one who initiates the goodbye since we were standing for a few minutes outside of his office (he didn't seem in any hurry to get back).  So what does he do, he grabs my hand and shakes it....seriously, then puts his hand in a fist and holds it out for me to do the same so we can bang knuckle to knuckle.  I wrote him this morning because he asked a question of me yesterday that I had a hard time answering.  I p.s'd it by letting him know "no more w/the handshake - I want hugs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to just be his friend...whine, whine, whine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114186117541341293?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114186117541341293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114186117541341293' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114186117541341293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114186117541341293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/03/lunch-with-boy.html' title='Lunch with &quot;the boy&quot;'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114183161828520425</id><published>2006-03-08T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T08:26:58.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird . . .</title><content type='html'>Laryngitis is a weird thing - how am I supposed to talk to my self?  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114183161828520425?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114183161828520425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114183161828520425' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114183161828520425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114183161828520425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/03/weird.html' title='Weird . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114165606508893286</id><published>2006-03-06T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T07:41:05.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Firey Food Show . . .</title><content type='html'>Why is it at every show you go to, art, home &amp; garden, above, etc., they always have someone trying to clean your glasses?  It was a food show!!  Those people bug me.  And why do they allow strollers in these shows when the aisles are 3 feet wide, seriously....and the parents look at you incredulously like we're the ones who are in the way.  I was getting testy and not because I got to test the samples (which we could hardly get to because the STROLLERS were in the way!!!).  And then there was the food nazis who made sure you only got one sample.  I just spent $10 bucks on your jalapeño pistachio peanut brittle (sooo good by the way), if I want another sample, I'll take it.  I think I know how it feels to be a salmon swimming up stream to spawn.  ewwwwww!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114165606508893286?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114165606508893286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114165606508893286' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114165606508893286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114165606508893286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/03/firey-food-show.html' title='Firey Food Show . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114131320498700346</id><published>2006-03-02T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T09:59:27.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marco . . . Polo . . .</title><content type='html'>I feel like my like/lust life right now is a game of M/P.  The worst part is I don't know if I should be yelling M or P.  Sometimes the M is so loud it reverberates back in my ear and other times, the P is lost somewhere between N and O.  I know I'm not making sense, but my hot boy isn't making sense.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marco - start flirting by email and visiting (all at work)&lt;br /&gt;Polo - after 3 months of flirting and a specific email asking, I tell him how I feel&lt;br /&gt;Marco - A, I am enjoying being your friend&lt;br /&gt;Polo - Fine, but technically you're more of an acquaintance&lt;br /&gt;Marco - Here's flowers and a card for your b-day (given to me at work)&lt;br /&gt;Polo - You've made my day and night (he came to my happy hour)&lt;br /&gt;Marco - email, visit, email, visit - more flirting&lt;br /&gt;Polo - I missed your b-day....why didn't you say anything?&lt;br /&gt;Marco - I wanted it low key&lt;br /&gt;Polo - Get him a music DVD of his fav artist w/funny card...&lt;br /&gt;Marco - email, call, visit....next day, email, call, visit&lt;br /&gt;Polo - smile, smile, smile....next day, smile, smile, smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've not been so smitten by a man since....well who knows when, but I am.  And part of me is sad because he hasn't asked me out (yet??).  And the other part is so excited by the possibility of going out w/him.  Yes children are involved and yes his divorce was final last year.  I know I've been told to be patient (he's interested, so they say) and believe me, I understand since I didn't put myself out there for 9 years after my divorce.  Is it different for men?  It's almost starting to make me ache, I want him so badly.  Plus, I've dreamt of him almost every night this week - and since I've met him, I've only dreamt of him once before.  Why so much now?  Does the word consume mean anything! :(  I know, I'm irritating my self.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114131320498700346?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114131320498700346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114131320498700346' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114131320498700346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114131320498700346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/03/marco-polo.html' title='Marco . . . Polo . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114090712576024463</id><published>2006-02-25T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T23:04:08.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I just had an out of body experience....</title><content type='html'>an average Friday night for me might be happy hour w/the girls, dinner and a movie w/the girls...etc., etc., something w/the girls.  Not last night!  Last night I was with the BOYS and not just any boys...I'm talking Pittsburgh Steelers!!  I personally met Jerome Bettis, Heinz Ward, and Cordell Stewart, and snuck in a couple of back rubs to Ben Roethlisberger.  I know - it's surreal, but it's true.  There were other players there but I didn't get to meet them, I'm just thankful for the few I did shake hands with and smile at and drool over....:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, explanation...my brother is part owners of a nightclub in Vegas called OPM in Caesar's Forum Shops and he called me a couple of weeks ago to tell me my Steelers (specifically Jerome) had booked his b-day party there.  What's a Steeler fan to do, but bug baby brother everyday for two weeks to make sure they were going to be there.  They were and, I can't explain it, but I felt like I had one of the happiest nights of my life...I know it's stupid, but I'm one of the millions who actually got starstruck by the headlights on "the Bus."  Peace out.  I'm on my way to an EWF concert at Sandia Casino....(I KNOW!!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. shout out to Todd - sorry you couldn't make it.  Maybe next time :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114090712576024463?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114090712576024463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114090712576024463' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114090712576024463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114090712576024463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-just-had-out-of-body-experience.html' title='I just had an out of body experience....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114072844034030038</id><published>2006-02-23T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T11:24:22.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you 26 again (no really, I'm 46....)</title><content type='html'>I've digressed.  Lately, I just want a man.  So what if I want them to be hot like these men . . .is it so wrong.....really.....???  I believe these are the hottest of hot out there right now, so sue me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edgar &lt;a href="http://it.movies.yahoo.com/051016/20/1bmxc.html"&gt;Ramirez&lt;/a&gt; - Domino (when I watched this movie w/him - aahh crap, I can't say....)&lt;br /&gt;Christian &lt;a href="http://www.christianbale.net/"&gt;Bale&lt;/a&gt; - Batman Begins (there's a smokiness about him that makes me crazy)&lt;br /&gt;Heinz &lt;a href="http://media3.steelers.com/team/player/49201/"&gt;Ward&lt;/a&gt; - Steelers (Annette Ward-I think it fits)&lt;br /&gt;Troy &lt;a href="http://media3.steelers.com/team/player/49230/"&gt;Polamalu&lt;/a&gt; - Steelers (Annette Polamalu-even better!!)&lt;br /&gt;Derek &lt;a href="http://derekjeter.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/players/jeter_derek/index.jsp"&gt;Jeter&lt;/a&gt; - Yankees (He's almost too beautiful)&lt;br /&gt;Simon &lt;a href="http://us.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/3222/SimonBaker_Ausse_5272374_400.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Baker,%20Simon%20(I)&amp;seq=41"&gt;Baker&lt;/a&gt; - Something New (the kissing in this movie is soooo hot)&lt;br /&gt;Dwayne &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/ss/0421206/Ss/0421206/00578.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Rock,%20The%20(I)"&gt;'The Rock'&lt;/a&gt; Johnson (he's just manly, like you know he'll just take care of his woman)&lt;br /&gt;Mark &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/gallery/granitz/2008/MarkWahlbe_Mazur_1162114_400.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Wahlberg,%20Mark%20(I)&amp;seq=24"&gt;Wahlberg&lt;/a&gt; - Italian Job (washboard...need I say more)&lt;br /&gt;Jason &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/ss/0337921/Ss/0337921/cellular_DF_3944F.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Statham,%20Jason"&gt;Statham&lt;/a&gt; - Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (handsome Rob...)&lt;br /&gt;Jason &lt;a href="http://www.hbo.com/city/cast/actor/jason_lewis.shtml"&gt;Lewis&lt;/a&gt; - Sex &amp; the City (sweetness beyond sweetness)&lt;br /&gt;Gary &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/hh/0235427/HH/0235427/hsDourdan.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Dourdan,%20Gary"&gt;Dourdan&lt;/a&gt; - CSI (LIPS)&lt;br /&gt;Orlando &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/3697/Events/3697/OrlandoBlo_Devan_6173628_400.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Bloom,%20Orlando"&gt;Bloom&lt;/a&gt; - Pirates (I don't care if he's young)&lt;br /&gt;Tiki &lt;a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/football/nfl/players/3937/"&gt;Barber&lt;/a&gt; - Giants (you had me at that smile)&lt;br /&gt;Carlos Sanchez - ok, no link, but I want this man (he's flower boy)&lt;br /&gt;Viggo &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/4074/ViggoMorte_Grani_7060753_400.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Mortensen,%20Viggo&amp;seq=3"&gt;Mortensen&lt;/a&gt; - History of Violence (he took his woman on the stairs and it was hot)&lt;br /&gt;James &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/2639/JimCavieze_Grani_3955869_400.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Caviezel,%20James&amp;seq=6"&gt;Caviezel&lt;/a&gt; - The Passion of the Christ (geez, maybe I should have put Count of Monte Cristo instead)&lt;br /&gt;Clive &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/ss/0376541/Ss/0376541/SG-03.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Owen,%20Clive"&gt;Owen&lt;/a&gt; - King Arthur (sexiness)&lt;br /&gt;Ioan &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/hh/0344435/HH/0344435/ioan13.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Gruffudd,%20Ioan"&gt;Gruffudd&lt;/a&gt; - King Arthur (more sexiness w/curlier hair)&lt;br /&gt;Hugh &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/4090/Events/4090/HughJackma_Grani_7046492_400.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Jackman,%20Hugh"&gt;Jackman&lt;/a&gt; - X-men (Wolverine means animal...ummmm)&lt;br /&gt;Eric &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/4081/EricBana%2Cp_Grani_7062467_400.jpg?path=pgallery&amp;path_key=Bana,%20Eric&amp;seq=3"&gt;Bana&lt;/a&gt; - Munich (tall drink of water)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;agree?  any others??  ok, I'm off to Vegas and I hope to be riding the bus....(that was for you fag) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114072844034030038?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114072844034030038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114072844034030038' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114072844034030038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114072844034030038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/are-you-26-again-no-really-im-46.html' title='Are you 26 again (no really, I&apos;m 46....)'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114053639321031738</id><published>2006-02-21T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T09:20:51.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Know What's the Best....</title><content type='html'>...a great night of sleep.  Am I just getting old that sleep is now important to me?  You &lt;strong&gt;k&lt;/strong&gt;now &lt;strong&gt;w&lt;/strong&gt;hat &lt;strong&gt;s&lt;/strong&gt;ucks, waking up at 2:30 a.m. and knowing you have to get up at 5:00.  But it sucks even more when you can't fall back asleep and you watch 3:00, 3:15, 4:00....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KWB:  Having your friends over for dinner with candles being the only light in the house.&lt;br /&gt;KWS:  Having your mom show up (to give me a valentine-is it possible to be sweet and a pain?) and have her rudely say "can you please turn on some lights so I can see!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KWB:  Spending the day in Santa Fe w/same friends and enjoying shopping without buying anything.&lt;br /&gt;KWS:  Regretting not buying that dang red purse!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KWB:  Driving 110 back from Santa Fe for no reason other than your car just likes to go fast.&lt;br /&gt;KWS:  Being back in time to watch the best show in the world, Grey's Anatomy, and forgetting about it because you go to friends house and drink wine instead!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KWB:  Going to church w/best friend, not paying attention to sermon, saying something to her about some girls shoes w/white elephantitis socks and have her respond by showing me her white socks!  I just about had to leave because I'm so immature when I get the giggles, but at least it wasn't just me-she had tears streaming from her eyes too.&lt;br /&gt;KWS:  Finding out the next morning that our pastor resigned and his last sermon I should have been listening, I was too busy laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KWB:  Having your friends call you to tell you this news.&lt;br /&gt;KWS:  Having your friends call you to tell you this news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KWB:  Attending the same church for the past 10 years and feeling like it's a home away from home.&lt;br /&gt;KWS:  That our pastor is leaving because of politics within the church.  It goes to show that we cannot look to men, only to God for our strength and convictions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114053639321031738?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114053639321031738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114053639321031738' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114053639321031738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114053639321031738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/know-whats-best.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;K&lt;/strong&gt;now &lt;strong&gt;W&lt;/strong&gt;hat&apos;s the &lt;strong&gt;B&lt;/strong&gt;est....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-114018979846432263</id><published>2006-02-17T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T08:23:18.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last night....</title><content type='html'>I played darts for the first time since I left Virginia almost 15 years ago.  I worked for DOD and it was the best job I ever had, a fixed wing unit at Ft. Belvoir.  Anyway, every day at 2:00 we'd close down operations and go to our break room and play darts until we left at 4:00 (and if that got boring, we'd use the hangar for chair basketball).  I forgot until last night, how much I loved that game.  Chris, Pat and I started just throwing them and eventually Mark came over (he was totally interested in Chris) and reminded me how to actually keep score.  I loved it.  I can't wait to go back and play again.  Next time though, it needs to be when I don't have to come in to work the next day since I'm running on only four hours of sleep.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we make a pit stop before leaving (after Chris and Mark exchange numbers) and we're all talking about what a nice guy he is, great conversationalist, totally paid for all three of us girls all night (not just Chris).  Just a great guy, and he was actually closer in age to us (younger of course but closer).  He's in the military, stationed at Holloman.  Back to the bathroom - Chris now tells us that she just didn't find him attractive (I thought he was cute especially after talking to him all night - and I wasn't drunk, I was drinking water the last three hours). So I'm the first one out of the stall and washing my hands when the last stall opens and out comes this gal that was with Marks' friend all night.  She heard everything we said.  Next comes Pat and I motion to her w/my eyes to shut it and Chris is still just yakking away.  When she finally comes out I motion to her, she wanted to die.  She's not cruel and she felt like a heel at that point.  What do you do?  You shut up and act like the leper isn't in the room (anyway, that's what we did).  I just hope this girl didn't go and blab and possibly hurt Mark's feelings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-114018979846432263?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/114018979846432263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=114018979846432263' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114018979846432263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/114018979846432263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/last-night.html' title='Last night....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113995208443028388</id><published>2006-02-14T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T19:16:30.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For the ladies...(or cannoli lovers :)...you know who you are)</title><content type='html'>LADIES: Turned ON or OFF or doesn't matter when a guy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is taller than you: on, but everyone is taller than me&lt;br /&gt;Wears braces: doesn't matter&lt;br /&gt;Dresses preppie: doesn't matter&lt;br /&gt;Dresses Ghetto: on, i don't know why??&lt;br /&gt;Has green eyes: on&lt;br /&gt;Has blue eyes: on&lt;br /&gt;Has hazel eyes: on&lt;br /&gt;Has Brown eyes: on...it's a boy, it doesn't matter!&lt;br /&gt;Smokes pot: off, i've got a clearance&lt;br /&gt;Wears glasses: doesn't matter&lt;br /&gt;Has a tan: doesn't matter&lt;br /&gt;Plays sports: on&lt;br /&gt;Smiles a lot: definitely on&lt;br /&gt;Calls you just to say hi: or emails, on&lt;br /&gt;Compliments you: big on&lt;br /&gt;Shaves his legs: off, unless it's Edgar Ramirez, he can do anything he wants&lt;br /&gt;Wears jewelry: mostly off&lt;br /&gt;Has facial hair: if kept clean, on &lt;br /&gt;Smiles when you walk in the room: huh, on!&lt;br /&gt;Has brown hair: doesn't matter&lt;br /&gt;Has Black hair: doesn't matter&lt;br /&gt;Has blonde hair: doesn't matter&lt;br /&gt;Has red hair: again, if it's a boy, doesn't matter, he could be bald for all i care&lt;br /&gt;Makeup: off, unless it's one of my fav actors&lt;br /&gt;Can make you laugh at any given moment: HUGE ON&lt;br /&gt;Loyal: on&lt;br /&gt;Plays drums: doesn't matter, all musicians are special&lt;br /&gt;Sings: BIG turn on&lt;br /&gt;He's buff:  on, but doesn't matter&lt;br /&gt;He can draw: doesn't matter&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't eat meat: off&lt;br /&gt;Laughs a lot: BIG on&lt;br /&gt;Has piercings: on&lt;br /&gt;Smokes cigs: off&lt;br /&gt;Is comfortable around you: on&lt;br /&gt;Holds your hand: would be an on if it would happen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, any others??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113995208443028388?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113995208443028388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113995208443028388' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113995208443028388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113995208443028388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/for-ladiesor-cannoli-lovers-you-know.html' title='For the ladies...(or cannoli lovers :)...you know who you are)'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113968271673263173</id><published>2006-02-11T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T12:30:33.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness.....</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been dreaming and were laughing so hard in the dream that you woke yourself up.  I do this all the time, but this morning is still fresh in my mind so I'm telling you about it.  I was dreaming I was in my baby sisters kitchen (which I have no idea if it was since I've never been in her kitchen in England), and I was standing in front of this beautiful half-moon shaped island sink.  I pick up what I thought was a water gun (the larger pump kind) and starting pumping away.  Well nothing was coming out of it, I thought.  After about the tenth pump, my sister yells at me from behind and said "ok, this would be really funny if it wern't so cold."  Well I didn't understand what she meant until I looked at her and she was soaked???  It still didn't register and then I figured out that I had the gun backwards so I turned it around and pumped it and the water flew out at my face.  My sister and I were laughing sooooo hard that I woke myself up.  I love dreams like that...to wake up so happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness....&lt;br /&gt;shopping w/girlfriend and finding the dishes you've been wanting, on sale!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness....&lt;br /&gt;opening b-day gift from same girlfriend and it's the ring that you wanted 6 months before (not your ordinary run of the mill ring-something that you will to someone when you die!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness....&lt;br /&gt;having dinner w/five of your best friends in the world and having them laugh at you as you sit on the saddle of some stupid prop the restaraunt has for b-day guests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness....&lt;br /&gt;having those friends know you so well that every gift they give you is perfect, in every way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness....&lt;br /&gt;watching a movie w/same friends and lyao because the movie feels like your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness....&lt;br /&gt;going to another movie in the same night and getting punch drunk w/dorky fag friend  (see previous post about her) who knows how to say just the right thing to start the giggles (am I 16 again??).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness....&lt;br /&gt;coming home and hearing the magical words "you've got mail" and it had to be from my hot boy (the one who finally made a statement by giving me flowers, at work-that is a statement right?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it any wonder I woke up laughing this morning....I'm so blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113968271673263173?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113968271673263173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113968271673263173' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113968271673263173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113968271673263173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/happiness.html' title='Happiness.....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113949794067803497</id><published>2006-02-09T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T09:24:58.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>46 Years Young....</title><content type='html'>I'm soooo happy today.  For whatever reason, 45 was harder for me to digest, but I'm embracing 46.  Plus, I'm wearing my new gold/pearl necklace from my sisters and brother.  They're awesome (actually it was Binnie who bought it - hopefully the others will pay up!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.  guess who brought me flowers!!  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113949794067803497?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113949794067803497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113949794067803497' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113949794067803497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113949794067803497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/46-years-young.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;46 Years Young....&lt;/strong&gt;'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113943957833034952</id><published>2006-02-08T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T15:59:38.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends??  WTH!</title><content type='html'>In the infamous words of Berger (to Miranda in SATC), "he's just not that in to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after he visits in my office for an hour and then flirts w/me on email, he couldn't understand why his touching me (which he does all the time) made me react w/a puzzled look.  "Why the reaction?" he asks.  "Because you confuse me - because I honestly don't know where I stand w/you.  I feel like you're attracted to me since you do always try to touch me in subtle ways, but you've never called me, you've not asked me out....you confuse me and I don't like being confused."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A, right now I'm happy being your friend...I hope you are too..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, sure, whatever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote him back after I had the weekend to think about it and said "also, I've had the weekend to think about this friend thing, and so what?  Friends can call each other, friends can go out and enjoy each others company, friends can just hang out and watch movies and eat popcorn.  I'm not ever expecting that you and I would do any of these things, but I do have friends that I do this stuff w/all the time.  So really, to be technical, you're more of an acquaintance than a friend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't like it-he said, "wow, ok, I'll consider myself 'demoted.'"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn straight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's written me several times in the course of 3 days to let me know that as an "acquaintance" he can't or won't or some sh*t or another.  Think I got to him??  (As I was writing this, he came by again....but didn't touch.)  Butthead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113943957833034952?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113943957833034952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113943957833034952' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113943957833034952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113943957833034952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/friends-wth.html' title='Friends??  WTH!'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113920302789850389</id><published>2006-02-05T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T07:13:56.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Steelers - SWEET!!!!</title><content type='html'>Is there anything sweeter than having your team win the SUPERBOWL??!!  Well maybe rubbing it in to the Cowboy and Bronco fans that live here....yeah, not as much but a close second.  I love my boys and that makes 5!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113920302789850389?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113920302789850389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113920302789850389' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113920302789850389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113920302789850389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/steelers-sweet.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;Steelers - SWEET!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113909505162794336</id><published>2006-02-04T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-04T22:47:51.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It happened again.....???</title><content type='html'>Went out last night w/my girlfriend Chris and we had so much fun.  We ended up at a bar called Billy's and started playing pool w/Mr. XL and Mr. Mountain Dew.  I know at one point they told us their names, but I don't remember them.  Mr. XL was my partner and we won 6 out of 7 games 'cause we were on fire.  Ok, he was on fire, I sucked but at least I was winning.  I loved that MD was my opponent 'cause he and I flirted all night by trying to make each other miss (lots of little nudges and butt bumps).  We close the place down and actually start talking to these sweet boys.  Yeah, boys....or young men, whatever....we find out XL is 22 and MD is 26.  I don't get it.  Why can't we find cool guys our age?  We left without giving numbers, but man did we have fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113909505162794336?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113909505162794336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113909505162794336' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113909505162794336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113909505162794336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/it-happened-again.html' title='It happened again.....???'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113892036188868100</id><published>2006-02-02T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T12:39:58.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I’ve officially been tagged….</title><content type='html'>So I’m reading &lt;a href="http://interimthoughts.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ms. Lady H’s&lt;/a&gt; comments and she tagged me (saying it indignantly)……Ok, I feel honored and plus it gives me something to write about :).  So here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four Jobs I've Had&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Bank Teller - several banks, several locations&lt;br /&gt;2. Teller Supervisor - First Hawaiian Bank&lt;br /&gt;3. Secretary for DOD - best job ever!  Worked w/pilots in a fixed wing company servicing the generals at the Pentagon.  Why was I married then?&lt;br /&gt;4. Budget Analyst - current job - pay is good for someone w/out a college education.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four Movies I Could Watch Over and Over Again&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You’ve Got Mail - still something about getting that email (you know the one).&lt;br /&gt;2. Italian Job - loves me some handsome Jason S. and Mark W.&lt;br /&gt;3. Romancing the Stone - "you mean that time when I saved your ass!"&lt;br /&gt;4. Clueless - "what?? I totally paused."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four Places I've Lived&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. San Diego, CA&lt;br /&gt;2. Woodbridge, VA&lt;br /&gt;3. Honolulu, HI&lt;br /&gt;4. Asmara, Ethiopia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four Places I've Vacationed&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Kaui, HI&lt;br /&gt;2. Victoria Station, Canada&lt;br /&gt;3. Baltimore, MD&lt;br /&gt;4. Massawa, Ethiopia (on the Red Sea)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four Favorite Dishes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Pizza&lt;br /&gt;2. Lasagna (mine and my mom’s)&lt;br /&gt;3. Steak and bake potato (w/salad)&lt;br /&gt;4. Red Chili Cheese Enchiladas (mom’s)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four Non-Bloggers I Visit Daily&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Steeler Football Website (especially lately)&lt;br /&gt;2. Fox News&lt;br /&gt;3. My CU website&lt;br /&gt;4. Various catalog websites&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four Places I'd Like To Visit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. New York&lt;br /&gt;2. Greece&lt;br /&gt;3. Israel &lt;br /&gt;4. Canary Islands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four People I'm Tagging For This Meme&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not going to tag anyone, only because most of the ones I would tag I think have already done this.  Thanks Lady H!  You're right, it was fun :).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113892036188868100?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113892036188868100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113892036188868100' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113892036188868100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113892036188868100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/ive-officially-been-tagged.html' title='I’ve officially been tagged….'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113889846022667837</id><published>2006-02-02T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T10:24:54.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My eight ideal partner requirements…</title><content type='html'>So I was visiting several blogs yesterday and came across one that had me laughing out loud.  Now this blog wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but there’s an immediate disclaimer at the top letting you know whether you’d want to proceed or not.  I proceeded and took it with a grain of salt, the way I’ve learned to do in blog land.  I love how people write and totally share themselves.  This has been lots of fun and I hope to be doing this for awhile.  Anyway, I’m gonna steal the idea for this post from &lt;a href="http://vivalasvegass.blogspot.com/"&gt;Todd&lt;/a&gt;….hope he reads it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Requirements are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Loves the Lord.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this will turn some off right away, but hear me out.  Why not want a man who knows and loves God.  I’m sorry but there are a lot of men out there who have no values or morals.  I’m not faulting them, it’s our society, but I want someone who believes that God is deity and will want Him to be a focus for our future.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. I need laughter. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a man wants to get me interested in him, he has got to make me laugh. And I don’t want Jim Carey humor; I want Joey, Chandler, Ross humor (damn I wanted to be Rachel, Phoebe and Monica)!  My friends know that to get me out of any funk, they just gotta make me laugh.  Fag knows how to do this (see one of my previous posts about my friends).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Challenge me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I have strong opinions and probably no one at this point in my life could change what I know and feel, but lets talk about it.  Don’t try to change me, just challenge me and make me think about what it is you’re trying to say.  It doesn’t have to be an argument, or that I’m not respecting what you’re saying, just let it be that we agree to disagree.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Know who you are.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t stand weak men who feel the need to belittle women because they have no self confidence.  Just because you failed at that job, or you failed to provide for your children, or you’re failing with relationships, don’t take it out on me.  Figure it out and then start dating – otherwise keep your ass at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Love this package – embrace it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I’m not every ones cup of tea.  I’m short (5’1”), a size 16/18, but I’ve got the right packaging in the right places.  My double D’s definitely offset the junk in my trunk.  If you don’t like it, don’t bother and definitely don’t try to change it.  I’ve been this size for almost 10 years now and until I want to change it, don’t you try to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Be reliable.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you say you’re gonna do it, then do it.  If you say you’ll be there, then be there.  If you bet me and you lose, then pay up no matter what.  It’s that simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. Be stable.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a job and pay your bills.  I’ve raised my sons and now that they’re on their own, I don’t feel I need to take care of anyone else.   I don’t expect you to have money (although it’d be nice), I just expect that what you do have, you handle it responsibly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. Be ready for a horny woman.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, I’ve said it.  Don’t think that just ‘cause I love the Lord, I don’t like sex.  (Brit – close your eyes).  I can’t wait until someone bones me again, on a consistent basis!  I miss and want it so badly, that the man who does get me, will be very satisfied.  And I don’t want some pansy who thinks he has to be gentle….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the only other factors that I could add are having a love for music (as long as it’s not country) and having a love for the Steelers (although not required if you already have a team).  Well there you go….surprised??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113889846022667837?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113889846022667837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113889846022667837' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113889846022667837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113889846022667837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-eight-ideal-partner-requirements.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;My eight ideal partner requirements…&lt;/strong&gt;'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113877156364718891</id><published>2006-01-31T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T22:29:20.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An ex.....</title><content type='html'>When I first became an ex-wife, I hated the prefix "ex."  It made me feel less, like w/out a husband I was half a person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I married 'O' because I became pregnant w/our first son.  He didn't hesitate to ask me once we found out, and within two weeks we were married and on our way to Fort Jackson, Columbia, South Carolina, where he was stationed.  I disliked that place.  I was without my family, friends, pregnant and newly married, soon to be a mom.  I thought when my son was born that I'd be happier, but instead, I probably experienced post partum depression.  Thankfully, we were only there a year when 'O' got orders to Honolulu, Hawaii.  Everything changed, for the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That place was magic.  I loved my job, we were surrounded by the ocean everywhere we went, what's not to love!  We lived a mile from the stadium, so for the 3 years we were there, we went to the pro-bowl every year.  I got pregnant w/my second son, he was born at Tripler Army Hospital (the pearl on the hill).  Life was awesome and we had nothing.  Our extravagant purchase the third year we were there was to buy a new car.  Other than that, we lived on his unlisted E-5 pay.  But then the orders came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olympia, Washington (Fort Lewis), another amazing, beautiful, majestic place.  Thank God we were only there a year though.  I need sun!  The only months of sunshine were in June, July and August.  We were there in 1986, and talk about timing, the World's Fair was in Vancouver so we went north for a weekend and got to experience a once in a lifetime event.  We took a detour thru Victoria Station and I know I keep repeating myself, but beautiful doesn't even begin to describe that place.  We then took the ferry back to Port Angeles and saw even more beautiful country.  My favorite memory of Olympia is from where we lived, we had the most amazing view of Mt. Rainier.  I called her the ghost mountain because it appeared to float on thin air.  Ok, one more time....beautiful!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next came Fort Belvoir, Virginia.  Everyone should get to experience living around our nations capital.  We would go to DC every chance we could, and thankfully that was often.  We lived there 3 years and were sad to leave, since we held good jobs and plus, you just get tired of moving.  Next stop was Fort Sam in San Antonio, TX.  We didn't stay long since 'O' was in school and then he got orders for the Gulf War. He brought the boys and I home to ABQ in 1991 and we've been here since.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I haven't explained why I'm an ex, but really, who cares.  It fell apart, slowly, but surely.  It wasn't what I wanted...to be an ex, but I'm also not bitter about it either.  I did what I needed to do for my boys and I feel good about it.  Plus, God provided when I couldn't.  Things were rough the first 4 years, mostly because I had to live w/my mom.  Try being 36 and live w/your mom again, with two boys.  That was a challenge, but we survived and really, I am truly thankful that I had a good home to live in and so did my sons.  I was finally able to buy my house in 2000, which I consider my slice of heaven on earth :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've filled in most of the blanks of who I am.  If there's anything you'd like to know, ask...I'm pretty open.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113877156364718891?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113877156364718891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113877156364718891' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113877156364718891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113877156364718891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/ex.html' title='An ex.....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113867664263019155</id><published>2006-01-30T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T20:04:02.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flight 93</title><content type='html'>I'm watching A&amp;E's Flight 93 right now, and seeing/hearing this all over again is making me so angry.  F'ing terrorists!  They destroyed so many lives that day.  My emotions are going from anger to instant tears.  Those poor people on those planes never had a chance.  I don't even know why I started watching it because I knew it'd make me emotional.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113867664263019155?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113867664263019155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113867664263019155' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113867664263019155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113867664263019155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/flight-93.html' title='Flight 93'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113851629452082798</id><published>2006-01-28T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T08:14:24.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This song says it all....</title><content type='html'>This song just blew me away today after really listening to the lyrics.  I've heard it before but guess I never really listened to the words, which is weird for me since I love lyrics and try to learn them if it's a song I really like.  How can a song just pull your soul out and leave you feeling like you've been rode hard and put away wet??  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heaven Help by Lenny Kravitz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There comes a time&lt;br /&gt;To be free of the heart&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be ready&lt;br /&gt;Ready to start&lt;br /&gt;On a love journey&lt;br /&gt;Got places to go&lt;br /&gt;Made up my mind&lt;br /&gt;And I have got to let you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heaven help the heart&lt;br /&gt;That lets me inside&lt;br /&gt;Heaven help the one&lt;br /&gt;Who comes in my life&lt;br /&gt;Heaven help the fool&lt;br /&gt;That walks through my door&lt;br /&gt;'cause I decided right now&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready for love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A funny feeling's coming&lt;br /&gt;Over me&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm inspired and open to being&lt;br /&gt;In a love place&lt;br /&gt;But it's out of my hands&lt;br /&gt;I'm telling you baby that you got to understand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heaven help the heart&lt;br /&gt;That lets me inside&lt;br /&gt;Heaven help the one&lt;br /&gt;Who comes in my life&lt;br /&gt;Heaven help the fool&lt;br /&gt;That walks though my door&lt;br /&gt;'cause I decided right now&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready for love&lt;br /&gt;Ready for love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't see what's out there for me&lt;br /&gt;And I know love offers no guarantee&lt;br /&gt;I'll take a chance and i'm&lt;br /&gt;Telling you something babe&lt;br /&gt;I got to let you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heaven help the heart&lt;br /&gt;That lets me inside&lt;br /&gt;Heaven help the one&lt;br /&gt;Who comes in my life&lt;br /&gt;Heaven help the fool&lt;br /&gt;That walks through my door&lt;br /&gt;'cause I decided right now&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready for love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ready for love&lt;br /&gt;Take a chance&lt;br /&gt;Take the chance on love&lt;br /&gt;The heart, the fool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the reason this song has affected me is because in May I'll have been divorced 10 years.  I shut down for all of the years that my sons were with me and since my baby moved out last year, I've allowed myself some indulgences.  I'm ready for love....again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113851629452082798?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113851629452082798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113851629452082798' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113851629452082798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113851629452082798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/this-song-says-it-all.html' title='This song says it all....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113843847179914689</id><published>2006-01-28T01:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-28T01:54:31.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't sleep....</title><content type='html'>so I'm watching a commercial w/Erick Estrada??  He's actually trying to sell property in a community in ARKANSAS called Hot Springs Village??  not sleeping sucks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113843847179914689?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113843847179914689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113843847179914689' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113843847179914689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113843847179914689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/cant-sleep.html' title='Can&apos;t sleep....'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113821150706059820</id><published>2006-01-25T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T10:53:32.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aren't we all a little quirky??</title><content type='html'>I know I do quirky things that I don't even know how/why they started, but they've carried over even into the work place.  Like yesterday, got a bag of M&amp;M's, poured them all out on my desk and started sorting them by color, and then I eat them in 4's.  Do you see anything wrong w/this?  My friend saw me doing this when she walked in and she thought I was a little whacky - guess I won't tell her about my other obsessions:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; - I have to have my clothes in my closet all lined up by color, shirts all together, next to jeans, next to pants, next to skirts, etc.&lt;br /&gt; - when I eat Lucky Charms, I eat the marshmallows last, by charms, in 2's.&lt;br /&gt; - when I work on an excel spreadsheet (almost every day), I have to have the columns lined up perfectly - I obsess with how it will print out.&lt;br /&gt; - when someone talks, sometimes I count a word they've just said on my fingers, over and over and over.&lt;br /&gt; - the towels that are hanging in my bathrooms have to be perfectly aligned&lt;br /&gt; - when I travel, I have a certain pillow that has to come w/me, a pillow that I sleep with every night and has been with me for many years.  And no, I don't care what's living in it.&lt;br /&gt; - I can't set my timer on an even number - what I mean is I have my TV go off each night at 11:11 and I have it come on in the a.m. at 5:09 . . .I don't know why?&lt;br /&gt; - the cash I keep in my wallet has to be all facing the same way, and sorted by denomination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well you get the gist . . .please tell me I'm not the only one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113821150706059820?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113821150706059820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113821150706059820' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113821150706059820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113821150706059820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/arent-we-all-little-quirky.html' title='Aren&apos;t we all a little quirky??'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113814093067197077</id><published>2006-01-24T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T15:15:30.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't explain it . . .</title><content type='html'>I feel so melancholy today . . . something is weighing heavy on my mind.  I'm at a point in my life that I want what I want and screw the consequences, and yet I hold back because I really care about the consequences.  I don't expect anyone to understand what it is I'm trying to say, I guess I'm just documenting to be able to look back and see where I was at this juncture in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113814093067197077?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113814093067197077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113814093067197077' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113814093067197077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113814093067197077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-cant-explain-it.html' title='I can&apos;t explain it . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113801609240169880</id><published>2006-01-23T04:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-23T07:47:17.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SHUT UP!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Steelers 34, Broncos 17 . . .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have any idea how much fun I had watching that game yesterday!  I got to call a couple of my friends and friends kids and say “see ya at the Superbowl.”  But the best of yesterday is happening today when I get to meet Andy (a Bronco fan) out in the parking lot, to give him my Steeler sweatshirt for him to wear all day!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how does a New Mexico girl become a Steeler fan you ask?  Well it started in the ‘70’s when I started watching football w/dad.  He had a team (the LA Rams at the time) so I decided I needed a team and since the Steel Curtain was winning back in the day, I became a Bradshaw, Swann, Harris, Green, AKA Steeler Fan.  The love affair has never died.  I now loves me some Polamalu, Ward, Roethlisberger, Bettis, Randle El, Miller, Parker, Wilson . . .OK, enough, but to quote a Rose Royce song . . .”I’m in love, and I love the feeling!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113801609240169880?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113801609240169880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113801609240169880' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113801609240169880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113801609240169880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/shut-up.html' title='SHUT UP!!'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113785827147581007</id><published>2006-01-21T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-21T08:44:31.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We are family - I got all my sisters w/me!</title><content type='html'>Went out with Binnie and Bone last night (and Bones friends).  She's leaving us on Monday to head back to England to join her husband at Mildenhall.  I'm sad for me but I know she's misses her honey and my nephew misses his daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But did I mention we went out last night . . . soooo fun.  We danced a lot and this morning, my feet are feeling the effects of cute sexy sandals.  It's an age thing, I know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113785827147581007?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113785827147581007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113785827147581007' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113785827147581007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113785827147581007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/we-are-family-i-got-all-my-sisters-wme.html' title='We are family - I got all my sisters w/me!'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113768372898420016</id><published>2006-01-19T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T09:18:16.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A cult classic??  OK</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;size:0;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#cccccc"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/ifyourlifewasamoviewhatgenrewoulditbequiz/cult-classic.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Quirky, offbeat, and even a little campy - your life appeals to a select few.But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky.&lt;br /&gt;Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="&lt;a"&gt;If&lt;/a&gt; Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's weird is I've never even seen any of the movies that would match me. But I love, LOVE the cult classic Rocky Horror Picture Show . . . "dammit Janet," is one of my favorite sayings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(thanks &lt;a href="http://jerkofalltrades.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jerk&lt;/a&gt; - I stole this from you . . . ) &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113768372898420016?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113768372898420016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113768372898420016' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113768372898420016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113768372898420016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/cult-classic-ok.html' title='A cult classic??  OK'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113759590308423092</id><published>2006-01-18T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T16:01:12.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a grouch!!!</title><content type='html'>Why do people try to talk to me first thing in the morning? Please, just let me get my coffee going, let me start my computer and let me take that first sip! I think I was just rude - again - to a co-worker . . . someone who is actually very sweet. But don't these people recognize a caffeine addict when she's racing to the sink every morning to fill her pot w/water? Don't they recognize the no emotion on the face as a sign that life doesn't start flowing until the cream and sugar hit the veins? Now I have to go make small talk to this woman who I'm sure I offended by showing not an ounce of interest in her story . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113759590308423092?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113759590308423092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113759590308423092' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113759590308423092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113759590308423092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/what-grouch.html' title='What a grouch!!!'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113739300636070759</id><published>2006-01-15T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T08:35:25.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Steelers 21 - Colts 18</title><content type='html'>Yeah, that's right . . .even though those stupid ass refs tried to make us lose by not giving Troy his due interception; and even though two Colts defensive lineman ran across the line of scrimmage, pointing at the Steelers as if our linemen moved, which would have forced an offside call and a first down. What a lousy job of officiating. I hope they all get fired - stinking suck ass refs! But it still didn't matter, 'cause we still stuck it to you. Next stop . . . Denver!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113739300636070759?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113739300636070759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113739300636070759' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113739300636070759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113739300636070759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/steelers-21-colts-18.html' title='Steelers 21 - Colts 18'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113708922414288165</id><published>2006-01-12T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-13T12:36:49.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams are weird . . .</title><content type='html'>I swear - two nights ago I dreamt that I was on the phone talking to a friend of mine who in reality, quit talking to me last September. I truly don't know why she quit talking to me 'cause she wouldn't tell me. I was really hurt w/her initially, but now I'm mostly just confused w/her behavior. Anyway, I came in to work today and sitting in my email box was one from her asking if I wanted to talk, and would I call her. Of course I wrote and said I did, and would. I'm just not into placing blame and harboring ill feelings, so hopefully I'll finally find out what the deal was. I have some amazing friends, which I should go ahead and start writing about now since I'm on the subject. Is it weird to have different sets of friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first set of friends are my high school friends - Vic-pooh, Gebes and Fag (they are the other toes in my pic on this blog site). I consider them my soul mates (I don't think it has to be the opposite sex). They know everything about me - from my highest high to my lowest low! I adore them and they me. Also, our kids are all best friends - and I don't mean just acquaintances, they love each other as much as we love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets start w/Vic-pooh (Vic) . . . she's our cheerleader. Anytime you need encouraging, she's the one to go to, to get affirmation. When we first met, I hated her. She denies it, but she was flirting w/my cousin’s boyfriend at the time. We ended up in the same math class our junior year and have been the closest of friends since. We even got kicked out of that class one day when we could not stop laughing at something random - the teacher (turtle butt was our nickname for him) didn't appreciate the minutes of snickering that couldn't be contained. I love her. We'd be perfect for each other if we were into that sort of thing. Of course, we just don't have the parts that each other likes :). Too bad 'cause she's a catch - something her ex never figured out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gebes (Gina) . . . she's the sensible one - in a Lucy sort of way (as in I love Lucy). If you want total honesty, no holds barred, she's the one you go to. She tells it like it is and sometimes it hurts - she doesn't try to hurt you, but the honesty is brutal nonetheless. She's my cousin that I talked about in a previous post, so she's like another sister. We're blood - nothing stronger than that. We've had a love affair since we've been in the womb. So she's sensible, but oh my gosh she does some dumb ass stuff. Once she called and said she was in the store w/two different pair of shoes on. Typical Gebes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karen (the Fag) . . . she's our comedian. You want/need to laugh, Fag's your girl (except when her husband and daughter are running a 102 degree temp.). No one has ever made me laugh as hard and as much as her. Dry shit, that many times only I get if we're in a larger group. She has a comeback to anything you say to her - and forget it if you do something stupid (she'll remember it at the next gathering) and make sure to bring it up at the appropriate time. Last month it was Vic's turn at the Fag wheel. Oh man did we laugh at her expense. I won't go into detail, but I believe the subject of a lymphoma came up a lot! Karen lived across the street from Gina and so by default, I became friends w/her also. Plus we were on drill team together our junior and senior year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many crazy stories about these wonderful women, but I've written enough for now. Next, I'll write about my "Vegas" girls . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113708922414288165?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113708922414288165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113708922414288165' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113708922414288165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113708922414288165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/dreams-are-weird.html' title='Dreams are weird . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113699341785504360</id><published>2006-01-11T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T08:30:18.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick day!</title><content type='html'>I called in sick today and I never call in sick.  I just want to hang out w/my sisters and since one is still visiting and the other is off, I'm playing hookey.  It feels so good.  I guess this is one of those "wellness" days I've heard about.  Plus, my work environment (specifically - hot boy) has me feeling yucky lately.  I really hope he stops to see me today and I'm not there.  So childish I know.  But when, WHEN are these men going to start appreciating a good woman??  Another blog for another time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113699341785504360?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113699341785504360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113699341785504360' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113699341785504360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113699341785504360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/sick-day.html' title='Sick day!'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113664424147594956</id><published>2006-01-07T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T07:30:41.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a name invokes</title><content type='html'>Isidro. Not a common name; kinda of a strange name; in 99.9% of the population it wouldn't invoke a warm fuzzy that starts from the gut and travels up to the neck and heats up a face and leaves you tingly and weak at the same time. In fact, I bet this name gets pronounced wrong a lot. But last night, I came in contact w/this name and it has lips attached. Ummm!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113664424147594956?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113664424147594956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113664424147594956' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113664424147594956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113664424147594956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/what-name-invokes.html' title='What a name invokes'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113656904864727001</id><published>2006-01-06T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T10:37:28.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A sister . . .</title><content type='html'>I’m the oldest of four and if you ask my siblings, they’ll tell you I’m the bossiest.  Aren’t we supposed to be? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Binnie (Robin) came four years after me and poor thing – I couldn’t stand her.  When she was old enough to start following me around, she was at my heels and I would do everything I could to ditch her.  Part of this dislike is that I was already close to my cousin who is three weeks older than I, so we were raised as sisters (we’re still very close).  Poor Bin, we were so mean to her – we would act like we could speak Spanish to each other and point at her and laugh.  I know – we were the epitome of ‘mean girls.’  But now, I adore her.  Not only is she my sister by blood, she’s one of my best friends.  My son’s think she’s the perfect Tia (Spanish for Aunt) since she’s the one that first started taking them to R-rated movies.  When I first found out about this, she got the new nickname of “bad Tia.”  She’s so bad, that she put the movie “Jurassic Park” on for my niece (who was three at the time) and left her to watch it by herself.  Yup, my niece was terrified but eventually got over it.  But who leaves a three year old alone watching that type of movie?  The “bad Tia,” that's who.  Anyway, Bin is a saint in disguise and anyone who meets her, loves her (except some of those jealous bitches she works with since she’s a police dispatcher supervisor).  Some of those women – whew – they be the true mean girls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paul Joe came 10 years later and he was so damn cute.  Maybe ‘cause he was the first (and only) boy, he got lots of attention from his sisters.  He’s a pain in the ass now, but again, I really love him.  He’s very driven.  He’s been selling commercial real estate for over 10 years now and is part owner of a club in Vegas called OPM in Caesars Forum Shops.  He gave us our only niece 6 years ago but unfortunately, he didn’t stay married to her mother.  Marriage – it’s so hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bone (Teresa Lynn) came 12 years later and she was a surprise to mom and dad.  She’s our Ethie girl (she was born in Ethiopia).  She took on the baby roll and still plays that card to this day.  She’s such a baby :).  Boney is an awesome mom – her son came along a year and half ago and he is one of the funniest babies I’ve ever seen.  I can’t give him justice trying to describe his personality, but he walks around just jabbering and makes faces at everything and everyone.  It’s odd, but sooo funny.  Anyway, Bone is my baby sister, but again, is one of my best friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I’m a sister.  I can’t imagine my life without my siblings.  Plus, we need each other to take the heat off when our parents feel the need to find fault w/us . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113656904864727001?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113656904864727001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113656904864727001' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113656904864727001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113656904864727001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/sister.html' title='A sister . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20040769.post-113639587203553952</id><published>2006-01-04T10:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T10:31:13.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little about me . . .</title><content type='html'>1. What is your first name?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Annette&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Are you named after anyone?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Nope &lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;3. Do you wish on stars?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Only on the first star or if I see a shooting star; also my boys and I think that when we see the time 11:11 on the clock, we get to wish on that, and of course when we blow out candles.  I totally believe in making wishes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. When did you last cry?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;????&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;5. Do you like your handwriting?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No, I write messy.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;6. What is your favorite lunch meat?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Ham&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. What is your birth date?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;February 9th.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What is your most embarrassing music CD?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I don't get this question?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;9. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Definitely.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;10. Do you have a journal?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I just started blogging - does that count.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;11. Do you use sarcasm a lot?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Doesn't everyone?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;12. What are your nicknames?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Net, Netters, Nettie, Dog, Dogalogy, Net-pooh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Would you bungee jump?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Absolutely not!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Nope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Do you think that you are strong?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;In a girly kinda way.  Like I don't want to learn how to connect my AC, so that's when I act weak.  And I don't want to drag the Christmas tree from the shed, so I act weak . . . you get it . . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What is your favorite ice cream flavor?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;B&amp;J's Cherry Garcia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Shoe Size?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;7 or 7 1/2 - just depends on the shoe - just bought 3 pair on the 1st, since Shoes on a Shoestring change their prices at the beginning of each month.  Got some good ones :).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Red or pink?  &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt; Red&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. What is your least favorite thing about yourself?  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;My negative thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Whom do you miss most?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Both my grannies!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;21. Do you want everyone you send this to, to send it back?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I'd love it, but know it won't happen (this says this 'cause it went out originally as an email). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. What color pants, shirt and shoes are you wearing?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;No pants, black and white skirt w/black shirt and black and white shoes - silver jewelry :).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. What are you listening  to right now?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Michael Franks - the Art of Tea (gift from my boyz).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;25. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Today - orange. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;26.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;What is the weather like right now?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Beautiful sunshine in ABQ (but we better get some moisture soon).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;27. Last person you talked to on the phone?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Vicky - we asked her to go to the movies w/us last night.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Lips.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;29. Do you like the person who sent this to you?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yup, she's my bud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Favorite drink?  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Favorite Sport?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Football - how 'bout them Steelers!  Then baseball.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Hair Color?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Brown  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Eye Color ?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Brown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. Do you wear contacts?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Not any more . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; good 'ole lasik.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Favorite Food?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Pizza &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Last Movie You Watched?  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; Munich - pretty good - thought provoking . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Favorite Day of the Year?    &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;the 9th of Feb. :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Scary Movies Or Happy Endings?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Happy endings - I don't get the scary thing - who wants to get scared?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. Summer Or Winter?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Summer (and water).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Hugs OR Kisses?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Both  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. What Is Your Favorite Dessert?  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Mom's fudge but now my sis made "hello Vicky's" for Christmas and they were wonderful.  Just ask Vic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. What is your favorite Music?  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; Mostly I like everything but country.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. Living Arrangements??  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; For the first time, by myself in my little townhouse - I love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. How far away from home have you traveled?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Asmara, Ethiopia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. Have you been in another country?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;See above.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. Do you like animals?  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; Sure, but don't want any - that would mean I would have to be responsible for something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. If you could go anywhere on a dream vacation?   &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Canary Islands in the summer, or Mediterranean Cruise. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20040769-113639587203553952?l=afromabq.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/feeds/113639587203553952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20040769&amp;postID=113639587203553952' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113639587203553952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20040769/posts/default/113639587203553952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://afromabq.blogspot.com/2006/01/little-about-me.html' title='A little about me . . .'/><author><name>afromabq</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05850159013489969643</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v37/briadru4/small_toes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
