<?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-8863226548563698904</id><updated>2011-07-08T10:23:19.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My own little corner</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-7476104588888215225</id><published>2010-07-06T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T22:43:33.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Frisby - pardon me - DISC Golf</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/TDQT9vMuW-I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/saqSLPJVYk0/s1600/disc+golf.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/TDQT9vMuW-I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/saqSLPJVYk0/s200/disc+golf.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491035797034261474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend one of my best friends from high school brought his wife over to have a date night with James and I!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me preface by explaining that several weeks ago, while mom and dad were here, we all managed to stumble on a Frisby Golf course located just a few minutes (literally like, 2 minutes) from our house!  That day we all had a great time following the course and getting lost between Tee's trying to stay out of the avid Frolfers ( thanks Meghan) way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were able to tag along with a group - who demonstrated the art of Frolfing - only to find out that they didn't use frisbies at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yeah, you use these disc's" our host explained, showing off his slightly flatter than average Frisby.  "They are only $15 or so at Big Five."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 bucks?  For a frisby?  I think not!  No no, I will be a Frolfer, I thought to myself, pocketing this information for later.  Afterall, how much of a difference can a 'disc' really make?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend, with Mike and Meghan in tow, James and I decided to try out our new found hobby, using $1 frisbies from Wallmart. Oblivious to the etiquette we tromped right into the course and got started, lining up at Tee one and looking for the little chain basket ahead.  I went first, Aiming and launching my purply frisby into the air... only to see it plummet about 10 feet in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh. Was I always this bad at frisby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike, Meghan and James, lined up and didn't have much more success.  Behind us, an avid group of Disc Golfers (Dolfers)  were waiting for us to move on to the next tee.  A bit embarrassed, I picked up my frisby and launched it again. With the same result.  Impatient, the group behind us, stood at the starting point and watched. Eventually we got our frisbies into the basket and rushed to Tee Two. At our back a disc wizzed through the air and landed just a scant few feet from the hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He almost just got a chain in one." James mumbled under his breath, looking a bit frantic. I think we were all feeling the pressure.  we picked up our pace - hardly even pausing for others to throw as we crept forward 10-20 feet at a time, all the while the Dolfers waiting behind us.  We finished Two, and went to Three... definitely rushed now - jogging to our frisbies and trying every possible technique to improve.  James and Mike got pretty good... the girls were definitely slacking - but we were getting better!  The group behind us - went back to tee one... trying to kill time. By Tee Four, the professional Disk Golfers were waiting on us... again, having managed to complete the first two Tee's before we finished Three, and we broke into a full out Frisby Golf Assault - adding rules like a mandatory 10 steps forward between every throw, and not caring who threw when so long as we were all hurrying.  Needless to say, the front nine couldn't go by fast enough before we tucked our tails and took the walk of shame back to the car.  In spite of the pressure - I think we all had a blast. Though I don't think I'll be returning with a frisby any time soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe $15 isn't so bad afterall...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-7476104588888215225?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/7476104588888215225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=7476104588888215225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/7476104588888215225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/7476104588888215225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2010/07/frisby-pardon-me-disc-golf.html' title='Frisby - pardon me - DISC Golf'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/TDQT9vMuW-I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/saqSLPJVYk0/s72-c/disc+golf.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-6966166859073716036</id><published>2010-01-26T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T18:53:09.563-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My excessive use of...</title><content type='html'>Dear Blog Readership,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so... as you all may have noticed in my last 4 posts I tend to use the whole ... thing a lot. Maybe it's just my love for hang endings or the idea that I am leaving the rest open for people to discover by opening my blog!  I don't know.  Either way, I'm apologizing for my repetitive grammar. I'm hereby going to try and change my ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Kara&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-6966166859073716036?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/6966166859073716036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=6966166859073716036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/6966166859073716036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/6966166859073716036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-excessive-use-of.html' title='My excessive use of...'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-82206316424422606</id><published>2010-01-26T00:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T01:24:14.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy little thing called love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO US!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S160djC_SSI/AAAAAAAAALo/PK7Xah7TW-0/s1600-h/IMG_2266.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S160djC_SSI/AAAAAAAAALo/PK7Xah7TW-0/s200/IMG_2266.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430976620372379938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S16zmvHxtcI/AAAAAAAAALI/T7YaRiUtWPM/s1600-h/IMG_2173.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S16zmvHxtcI/AAAAAAAAALI/T7YaRiUtWPM/s200/IMG_2173.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430975678720882114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of today, James and I have officially been married for TWO years. A huge milestone - I know. For the first time we actually get to spend our anniversary together.  I consider myself lucky. Although he missed our first anniversary by a scant 4 days, there is just something special about truly being able to celebrate the day in all it's glory. So many Military wives get so few anniversaries or any holidays. I think James and I have lucked out that we got this year together and I intend to take full advantage. Last year I remember thinking: 'The important thing is that we've made it a year!  It's okay that he isn't here right now - because the next time I see him, we will have been married for OVER a year, and isn't that even better?'  Well...  to be honest... No, it's not better.  It was pretty lame having to spend my first anniversary alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well!  We are totally into the 'holiday' spirit now.  I had already decided to get him an anniversary present that I know he will love. In true girl fashion I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;heavily&lt;/span&gt; hinted that he should go get me something too. James isn't much of a 'let's surprise each other' guy - but he made a HUGE effort this time and actually went out and got me something that he insists I will love. He's even worried that he set too high of a standard for himself... so the next 50 years are going to be a lot harder haha. I'm excited and completely clueless as to what he got me, though unable to resist he hinted that i have to wear it out to dinner tomorrow.... so we'll see. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for James, well.. if you can all keep a secret I'll tell you his surprise gift. See James loves a game called Mass Effect.  Easily one of his favorite video games. Well - I HATE it. As a whole I enjoy games, but man this one can get boring. Anyway, the much anticipated sequel to Mass Effect comes out when? Today. Our anniversary. He insisted that we had to go get it today and I put my foot down. "Absolutely not! This is our ANNIVERSARY. I will NOT share it with a game." My poor unsuspecting husband is on Duty tonight - so I went out to the Midnight release party (this is love) and bought him the game. *sigh* probably dooming myself to hours of watching him play the second most boring game (nothing could be worse than the original) in the world. But at least I can snuggle up to him while he plays. To throw him off I also got Transformers 2 and I put the game in a Mr and Mrs. Smith DVD case so that he will actually have to pull out the 'movie' to see the game.  I'll let you know how long it takes him to figure it out. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for now I will leave you all with two very important things about my wonderful husband in honor of our two year anniversary:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I have never met a man so willing to give up everything he holds dear because someone needs him. I'm humbled every day to be able to know someone so special, and I will continually strive to be the sort of woman he can be proud of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. These past two years of marriage have been the best two years of my entire life. I truly found someone I could consider a soul mate.  He understands me so well and knows exactly what to do to keep me happy - I only hope I do the same for him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you James!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-82206316424422606?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/82206316424422606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=82206316424422606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/82206316424422606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/82206316424422606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2010/01/crazy-little-thing-called-love.html' title='Crazy little thing called love...'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S160djC_SSI/AAAAAAAAALo/PK7Xah7TW-0/s72-c/IMG_2266.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-1025372761099178990</id><published>2010-01-23T23:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T00:06:16.171-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moonlit Stroll...</title><content type='html'>Tonight I made James come with me to one of my jobs.  The client booked their walk relatively late at night.  Washington, as a whole, isn't very well lit so I used my girly weaknesses to appeal to my husbands protective nature.  He agreed, grudgingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized tonight that dogs are definitely going to be a part of our future. Not now, because I don't think either of us wants to deal with the responsibility, but sometime. There was just something so peaceful, walking along through the darkness holding my husbands hand with the dogs walking quietly by our sides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course not everyone can be blessed with dogs as wonderful as Kona and Sullivan but for now I'll just enjoy the time I get to spend with two of my favorite 'clients'. James agrees. He fell in love with them just as I did over a year ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also decided that I am definitely more at peace in Nature.  I couldn't live in a big city. Washington is perfect for me with it's huge pine trees and clean air. It's so beautiful. We were walking down a road that is very densely populated with driveways every few yards yet James and I felt as if we were the only two people in the world on that little walk, and I couldn't be happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S1v-0iZ6T6I/AAAAAAAAAK4/CTDIV3vgbhU/s1600-h/IMG_0280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S1v-0iZ6T6I/AAAAAAAAAK4/CTDIV3vgbhU/s320/IMG_0280.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430213954267402146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of Kona and Sullivan. :) and a view from the house where they live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S1v-1CSef4I/AAAAAAAAALA/54s48uNOZDE/s1600-h/427.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S1v-1CSef4I/AAAAAAAAALA/54s48uNOZDE/s320/427.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430213962826153858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-1025372761099178990?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1025372761099178990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=1025372761099178990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1025372761099178990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1025372761099178990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2010/01/moonlit-stroll.html' title='Moonlit Stroll...'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S1v-0iZ6T6I/AAAAAAAAAK4/CTDIV3vgbhU/s72-c/IMG_0280.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-7622934172539167487</id><published>2010-01-21T16:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T16:20:12.455-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe an overreaction...</title><content type='html'>Today while I was taking a dog to the dog park, James called from the boat.  He's on Duty today, so I answered while driving to explain that I couldn't talk, and that he should call me in an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well.. We have to talk honey, I've got some bad news."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uh oh, What now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They are probably going to make me go ride another boat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To give some info, this essentially means that they (the Navy) would make James go help out another boat that is about to go on a deployment or an underway. Basically they would require that he leave his regular boat - which is FINALLY in port for a little while - to go out to sea again, on another boat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have time to deal with the situation then, so I told him that I thought that sucked, and that I would talk to him about it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took a few hours to call me back - and I put the time to good use, figuring out just how many ways I could get him out of it.  It's not like I'm being crazy. I have waited two years to get some down time with my husband, and this stretch of time has been coveted since before we got married! The last thing I wanted was my precious time snatched away because the Navy felt like he would do more good out to sea. For the first time in my marriage, and my Navy career I wasn't going to take this sitting down. Nope, I was NOT going to agree to sending him back out to sea. If I had to chew out his chiefs, his captain, I didn't care, I was NOT going to let them take him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he finally did call back - our conversation went a little like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, honey, now what is this deal about you riding another boat?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh.. Yeah, they are probably going to make me, and Johnson (the only other married guy in the division) and Nichols - well.. probably not even him.  Probably just me and Johnson out on-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.. that told me all I needed to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHY ON EARTH DID THEY CHOOSE TO SEND OUT THE ONLY TWO MARRIED GUYS?!  Are they trying to break up our marriage? Are they trying to make us hate them? There are 6 other guys in your division who AREN'T married. Send one of them!  This is Ridiculous!  I can't believe that they would do this to us!  I suffered through the whole last year alone, and maybe I wasn't clear, but it SUCKS.  I EARNED this time with you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uhhmm.. Wow.. you are really worked up about this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I AM.  I'M PISSED."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ooookay, so, I'm going to see if there is any way to get out of this okay?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh... and just so you know - it would only be a monday through friday thing.  Just as a training to learn some new equipment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh.  Just a week?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh well... umm... You can go. Sorry - I just... I just really didn't want to go another few months or something.  But a week isn't a biggie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"... are you sure?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah.  I'm fine now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story? Don't jump to conclusions.  And sometimes the Navy ISN'T out to destroy marriages.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-7622934172539167487?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/7622934172539167487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=7622934172539167487' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/7622934172539167487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/7622934172539167487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2010/01/maybe-overreaction.html' title='Maybe an overreaction...'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-3073233681417553966</id><published>2010-01-15T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T06:26:57.250-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Support</title><content type='html'>I am trying to write a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't tell you the number of times I have spoken that sentence in my life.  I have creative ideas and I love writing, but somehow putting my ideas into words leaves me with a whole bunch of jumbled, formal sounding ideas that isn't remotely  like what I had in mind! Sometimes I feel that somewhere between my brain and my fingers there is a huge writers block that prevents anything good from coming out. It sounds fantastic in my head, and yet somehow everything i write up is thoroughly disappointing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now, I'm up against a problem. See this book is different.  Characters are already taking shape and just begging to be brought to life - and for the first time in all of my writing career, I have a story and an idea that just wont go away!  After the first attempts failed, instead of scrapping the whole thing I took it from another angle, and it's actually not sounding too bad!  But how long can it last?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One bonus that I have this time is James's support - and honestly, it's made all the difference. I've only trusted close friends with my story line and world simply because I'm scared that someone will snag my idea and run with it.  I'm not the fastest writer - but I have goals to finish what I've started no matter how long it might take me to do it. Having James to support me has given me initiative and drive to keep going - because he wants to see it completed too!  He loves my idea and he has a way of giving me new ideas without taking over the story to give me that little push in the write(haha) direction.  I might not ever be a world famous author - and who knows if I will be satisfied with my book if I ever finish it, but for now I'm just glad that I have my husbands support and his willingness to let me have the spotlight for awhile in spite of the fact that he is arguably a better writer than I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope he knows just how much I appreciate him. Maybe I'll tell him - or better yet, write a blog announcing it to everyone who reads this...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-3073233681417553966?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/3073233681417553966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=3073233681417553966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/3073233681417553966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/3073233681417553966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2010/01/support.html' title='Support'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-2433264328768790929</id><published>2010-01-14T12:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T12:35:41.032-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Book worm</title><content type='html'>I am a book worm.  I can admit it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forget relatively often about how much I love to read.  I have tons of books, I bought a book shelf that still doesn't hold all of my books. My husband brings me home books by the boxful, and i can't get enough of them. But, as a true book worm, I get offended if someone doesn't enjoy the book that I recommend.  I know I shouldn't, but this is why I'm confessing my problems!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I genuinely recommend a book it's because I love it, and I hate when people say they are going to read - and then don't. Or start another book instead. Or, heaven forbid, read it and hate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*shudders*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a nasty issue, and one that I need to get over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to the future of positive book sharing!  I CAN DO IT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-2433264328768790929?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/2433264328768790929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=2433264328768790929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/2433264328768790929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/2433264328768790929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2010/01/confessions-of-book-worm.html' title='Confessions of a Book worm'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-413179150228403936</id><published>2009-10-28T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T19:03:07.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ranting</title><content type='html'>I've seen several different sorts of blogs out there.  And I'm always drawn to the ones where I'm not looking at the cute crafts, but rather reading the stories about their lives. I blog-stalk several navy wives, one ex-navy wife, and a few horseback riders. I stalk people's pets, and their kids. In the end, sometimes I just can't get enough stories. Maybe it just comes with being a writer. You want more to write with and their stories get added to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;repertoire&lt;/span&gt;. Either way, I've decided that I need to do less pictures - and more ranting. Besides, I could benefit from a good outlet, it's not as if I have my husband here to listen to my whining!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If you get to do something snazzy. Don't rub it in. &lt;/span&gt;It seems all week I've had to deal with people telling me how excited they are to do things that I can't do. "Oh, you and your husband had a great Anniversary dinner? I'm so excited for you." "You get to go to Hawaii? Awesome." "You just won $4,000 at the casino? Splendid." It's not saying that I wont be able to do these things, and I'm ashamed to say that I am guilty of the second complaint, of not more than a month ago. But did I really rub it in?!  Maybe I did, and for all of you whose toes I crushed?  I'm sorry. Seriously, I'm never telling anyone about my great news.  Or maybe I'm just  over reacting,  and maybe i'm just horrible and bitter, but dude, have a little consideration for those of us stuck at home, not gambling, or with out their husbands!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sometimes I just don't feel like cleaning. &lt;/span&gt;My house, at this moment, is a disaster. For those of you who knew me while I was growing up - my definition of disaster has changed a bit. My house looks nothing like my room did in high school, and in general, it's clean. But right now, it's messier than it's been in months... no.  Years. There are clothes upstairs and down in various baskets, there are blankets everywhere (honestly, why did I think I needed so many?!) loose socks, books, papers, etc... But I'm exhausted!  I worked all weekend, I haven't had more than an hour here and there off in who knows how long.  And yes I know I've had all sorts of trips - Missouri, Hawaii, Ember came to stay, but those aren't breaks.  Vacations and visitors are nice - but they aren't very good about really making people relax.  In general, trips are stressful!  And the last thing I want to do when I get home is clean. I want to SLEEP. My house will be clean tomorrow - I've had enough of the mess and I'm ready to overhaul, but for heavensakes I REFUSE to feel guilty because my house got messy for a few days!  It's not the end of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Just because I miss church for a few weeks, it doesn't mean I'm inactive.&lt;/span&gt; I love my ward. They are wonderful.  All of them. But as I listed above, I have been going on several trips in the last month or two.  Well, for someone who has not one but TWO very important callings, my absence is -always- noticed. I got more "Welcome back!" "It's so good to see you Sister Mooneyham!" and "Been busy?" in church this week then I've ever heard in my entire life!  Not that I mind, it makes it obvious that I've been missed, but sometimes  I feel guilty enough about missing, can't I just slide by under the radar once? Oh well, I shouldn't complain, I got to see my visiting teacher and my Home Teachers both this week, and everyone knows I could use the company (messy house or no).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last, but not least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Never write something like THIS at the end of an email:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;Third, I have some huge news to tell you and I can't go into details. Just keep as much money in our account as possible. Thanks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got my *one* e-mail from my husband, I was more excited than I can express. Until I got to the end of course.  And now I am just extremely happy that I will be speaking with him this weekend, because if I have to wait another month to get that news I'm going to be hunting down that Submarine myself!  I'll keep you all updated... if I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-413179150228403936?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/413179150228403936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=413179150228403936' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/413179150228403936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/413179150228403936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/10/ive-seen-several-different-sorts-of.html' title='Ranting'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-1105326540857465627</id><published>2009-10-14T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T09:31:41.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos and Fun!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/StX8gXEmHtI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Lk6FxfAaDPg/s1600-h/441.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/StX8gXEmHtI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Lk6FxfAaDPg/s200/441.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392493761725341394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Recently I took a trip to Port Angeles with Jenny and her two kids, Nivek and Mackenzie. We had a great time! I found out that fly fishing here in Washington involves catching 10lb steelhead and that Hurricane Ridge is so high that we had to drive through clouds to get to the top!  We also got to see all of the hot Twilight spots, like the place that Bella ordered her mushroom raviolli when Edward told her he was 'special'.  They even have a dish on the menu called "Bella's Mushroom Raviolli" Who knew?!  We stopped and saw Red on the way and got these precious pictures that were touched up by myself and Tina - the third member of our neighbor trio.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/StX8fjYPtwI/AAAAAAAAAKk/HzWin-ei0eE/s1600-h/m%26horse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/StX8fjYPtwI/AAAAAAAAAKk/HzWin-ei0eE/s200/m%26horse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392493747849115394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/StX8ff5aG3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/cVPwApmeRKc/s1600-h/Nivek+and+Red.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/StX8ff5aG3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/cVPwApmeRKc/s200/Nivek+and+Red.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392493746914466674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-1105326540857465627?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1105326540857465627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=1105326540857465627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1105326540857465627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1105326540857465627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/10/photos-and-fun.html' title='Photos and Fun!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/StX8gXEmHtI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Lk6FxfAaDPg/s72-c/441.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-8498723122622595006</id><published>2009-10-03T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T14:52:21.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journaling</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;Today, while listening to conference I decided that I was going to compile all of my e-mails to James into a word document that I could use as a sort of Journal.  I've been meaning to do this for quite awhile.  As I write to him almost every day, it really is a great way to keep a journal - without keeping a journal!  I just finished with 2009, and it's 113 pages!  I was in shock!  Anyway, while sorting through I found several entries that made me smile. 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line-height: normal;font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;I'll have you know my sweet that I just hauled my comfortable butt OUT of bed to come write you an e-mail.  You better be grateful!  I know you are though, so that makes me happy.  It just means that you get another e-mail from your wonderful wife.  Me!  So today started out pretty lame.  I woke up this morning to a full on blizzard...  which was horrible because of course, I had to go to church.  Can't ditch out on leading the music!  Or teaching my blasted sunbeams!  Anyway, so I dragged my sick (I'm on my period too, YAY) lazy butt out of bed and get dressed in a hurry so that I can leave early for church and right as I'm about to walk out the door I get a call from the missionaries:  "Hey sister mooneyham, think you can go drive down this road that nobody ever drives on in the snow because it is super steep and twisty and pretty much a death sentence to anyone who drives on it, to pick up the this girl for church?"  And what do I say?  "It will make me late."  They reply that they will lead the music for me if I don't make it ontime.  So guess who is suckered into taking the deadliest road ever to pick up some chick?  Me.  Terrified, but thankful I have the Tahoe, I head out.  I get the girl with only moderate slipping and sliding.  I prayed aloud just about the entire time...  afterall, I was doing the lords work; he HAD to protect me!  Sure enough, I get her and we make it to church in one piece, though I walk into sacrament meeting ten minutes late only to see that they DON'T have anyone to lead.  They wave frantically at me and I ditch my stuff on the nearest bench and run up to the front just as the organist finishes her intro... she started it as soon as she saw me. So I open to the page of a song that I REALLY didn't pick out and have to figure out how to lead it as we go alone.  Ok whatever, not the best start but I'll survive.  Song two was easy.. and also one that I didn't pick.  Song three was great.. but super difficult to lead, and the organist, bless her heart followed my every move.  (BAD IDEA,  YOU PLAY, I'LL FOLLOW!)  my regular organist and I have this down to a science.  Anyway, so after the entire congregation figures out that I don't know what I'm doing and start singing their own tune (I swear that it really happened.  I wanted to cry)  Finally it ended... and the last song was absolute cake.  So the second hour starts and honey.. it was amazing.  NO SUNBEAMS!  Half our congregation was gone because of the snow and apparently I have less active families in my sunbeams because not a single one was there!  YES!!  Anyway, it gave me an opportunity to talk to the missionaries and the girl I brought to church and I got to hang out in relief society.  It was fantastic.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It continued, but it got mushy, so I'll leave that part out. 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	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin-top:0in; 	mso-para-margin-right:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0in; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;5/12&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"  &gt;(I'm starting this e-mail mid way through too)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; .... Today was sad.  I had to take my mom to the airport.  She came on my dog walk with me, and met that bulldog.  It was really fun.  We went out to Scenic Beach and the tide was way way out.  So it smelled all gross and the rocks were all barnacle-y... if that is a word.  So mom and I were just meandering up the beach in the manner that you hate when I almost stepped on one of those pig plushy blobby looking starfish.  You know, the purple ones.  Anyway, after shrieking in my typical manner when I see sea creatures we realized that there were starfish EVERYWHERE.  Seeing movement beneath a rock I decided to kick it over, and you know what I found?!  CRABS - not the sexually transmitted disease of course - It was AWESOME!  Okay, so really it was terrifying.  Combine tiny spiderlike size with swift skittering abilities and my 'favorite' crustacean and you can only imagine what my first response was when that first rock was flipped and all the creepy critters scattered.  Yeah.  I pretty much screamed like a banshee, and maybe I didn't run a half-mile (which you TOTALLY exagerate by the way) loop around my mom and the rock in question, but it definitely gave me a scare.  But the adrenaline was great, so we spent the next hour flipping rocks and shrieking when the crab babies went nuts.  In other words.  We had a blast!  We got squirted a few times by burrowing sea creatures, which was surprising and also terrifying, but I suppose I survived.  After Scenic Beach, we hit the Airport and I dropped mom off and then came home.  I read that book and watched some shows and had dinner with Tina and Dale.  It was fun. :)   Anyway baby, I'm off to bed.  I love you with every fiber of my soul and I can't wait to see you.  MUAH.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Forever yours,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kara&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;I hope you weren't too bored!  But I thought they were funny and they made me smile!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Also, as a follow up.  Inspite of my lame attitude, the girl that I picked up from church that day was baptized this past weekend.  I'm so proud of our missionaries and the work they have put into that girl for the past year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-8498723122622595006?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/8498723122622595006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=8498723122622595006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/8498723122622595006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/8498723122622595006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/10/journaling.html' title='Journaling'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-6484246080488063085</id><published>2009-09-27T00:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T01:05:01.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strangers...</title><content type='html'>For those of you who don't know, I am currently in Hawaii with James. A quick break for the both of us to spend a few precious days together before he heads back out to finish his deployment. Getting out here was a fiasco in it's own right, but it's all been worth it, and we've had an amazing time - Though it was the actions of complete strangers tonight that has made this trip truly memorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm planning on going home in a few days, and tomorrow night we are going to have Derek (our roommate) hanging out with us.  Taking advantage of our alone time, James and I decided to splurge and hit up a fancy hibachi restaurant in Waikiki as a final real date before we part ways again. As with most Hibachi restaurants we didn't have the table to ourselves, instead we shared the space with two older couples who were here for a cruise and a pair of guys who are stationed at the army base here on Oahu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation was slow, but friendly, and eventually as we all conversed we learned bits and pieces about each others lives. We talked about James' career in the Navy, about the boys across the table and their trips to Iraq. We learned that the older couples knew each other because the men had served in the Air Force together some 50 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was great - of course, and expensive.  A nearly $80 blow to our checking account - but we could afford it and so neither of us flinched when the bill came - though unbelievably we didn't pay a thing because that wonderful couple next to us took our bill and insisted that they pay instead. Not only that but the other couple paid for the guys in the Army as well. It's hard to express how touched I was as the man took the ticket out of my hand and looking over at us said:  "We can afford it, and you are out there doing so much more for us.  Please, let us give back to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James and I were both shocked, and I was touched to the point of tears. These complete strangers, did something so overwhelmingly compassionate and kind. Not because they felt obligated but because they truly just appreciated the time and effort that James sacrifices. It is people like them that make all of this worth it.  I will have seen James less than three months this entire year by the time he gets back in for awhile. I can't talk to him, or get e-mails, and most of the time i don't even know when he is coming home.  But I can honestly say, that tonight, it hit me that I'm doing this for people like that couple next to us. I can only hope that there are more people out there who appreciate and understand the sacrifices that James makes, and the strength it takes to hold a marriage and a family together when you spend most of your time apart. We are truly blessed to have met such wonderful people, and it is their simple actions that will impact me most when I think back on this amazing experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-6484246080488063085?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/6484246080488063085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=6484246080488063085' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/6484246080488063085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/6484246080488063085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/09/strangers.html' title='Strangers...'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-561967132897877396</id><published>2009-08-20T00:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T07:04:00.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bento Bust!</title><content type='html'>I was planning on writing a blog about my trip to the Pacific Science Center, but then I realized that while I'm sure it was exciting to me, how on earth does that help everyone else? So what if I got to see all sorts of Gross things and the Grossology exhibit, and that I rode a bike on a tiny little rail two stories above the ground (terrifying -  you gotta try it).  What's most important is what did I learn?  What can I possibly share with my tiny group of readers that will protect them in the future? I have one resounding answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/So_6Kvb-3VI/AAAAAAAAAKA/3gWMZfsd7qQ/s1600-h/100_1974.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/So_6Kvb-3VI/AAAAAAAAAKA/3gWMZfsd7qQ/s200/100_1974.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372787942915759442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never eat Sushi with fruit in it. EVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/So_6LC2_2OI/AAAAAAAAAKI/WWMVoFJdtVo/s1600-h/100_2085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/So_6LC2_2OI/AAAAAAAAAKI/WWMVoFJdtVo/s200/100_2085.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372787948129343714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmmm.  I'll start from the beginning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jenny (neighbor and close friend) and I had decided earlier this year, when we realized that both of our husbands would be absent for most of the summer, that we would go all out exploring the surrounding areas. Afterall - why should we sit inside just because they aren't here? Seattle was first, and the military has great deals for a City Pass that allows us to go to several of the big Seattle attractions for a flat rate of $50.00. Seeing as how the Space Needle alone is somewhere in the range of $20.00 per person, this is a great deal if you use it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the next week we have four days planned crammed full of Seattle adventure. But aside from the actual activities we didn't plan for much else (food). Isn't it rather easy to find food in a big city?  Of course it is. Our day was no exception.  Not 5 minutes off of the ferry and we passed by an adorable little shop boasting Japanese Bento Boxes!  CUTE!!  YUM!! Okay, well, Dinner is settled. We'll go do the Pacific Science Center and then pick up our Bento Boxes as we head back to the Ferry and munch happily on our delicious rice balls and sushi on the ride home.  Such a good plan! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After passing up Gyros (ugh they looked so good), and a Phoenix roll (shrimp Tempura, BBQ eel, and flying fish eggs all in one roll!), we somehow managed to make it back to the Bento place with empty bellies and full wallets. This was it!  We walk in and are greeted by a little layered refrigerator ( you know, the kind that usually display deli sandwhiches and drinks in the airport) with probably a dozen little 'Bento Boxes'. And... that's it. Okay... so... not much of a selection - I guess I'll go without the rice balls... but that's okay!  What are our choices? A little Japanese lady joins the mix with her charming smile and half-understandable english. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"So... what do you have?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Salmon with cream cheese, Tofu with omelet and ??, Oh, and of course our Pickles and asparagus!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We determined that the mystery agreement above was something that she apparently didn't know the english name for and it looked completely unfamiliar to both of us.  We were only slightly daunted by the lack of options, but the kids would never go for the Salmon... and I'll be honest, I wouldn't either! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ah... which would you recomend?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh.. Tofu omelet is great. So yummy.  You will love." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sold. But what for the kids?  Tactfully I mention to Jenny that the kids probably wont go for the tofu option and she agrees that she will probably have to stop somewhere for else for them.  This is when our Japanese sales lady pipes up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh!  You must try fruit Sushi!  So good, like candy!  Kids will love."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jenny: "Are those Mangos?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sales Lady: "Yes. Mangos. Very sweet.  Very good." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like Candy you say?  Yum.  So what if it sounds weird?  If the sales lady says it's good then it MUST be good! Though.. why is there Wasabi and Ginger in there?  Ah... oh well!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sales Lady:  "Also, you must try these with the nuts!  They have pecans and walnuts in them.  Delicious!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well.. now that she mentioned it, the nuts -do- look good. So into our pile they go, and we happily check out.  What a great buy!  Okay... so we basically just bought every option that the little place had, but they all look so good!  I mean, who would ever have thought of fruit in sushi?  I'm sure it is very innovative, and very authentic Japanese. I already feel posh with our little bags as we head down to get the kids something else to eat. Because I feel a bit starved I end up getting a little something at the Ivar's Fish Bar too (great food btw).  Just so I get something substantial on top of the Sushi of course. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that we are all sitting down, Jenny and I are having our doubts.  Fruit in Sushi?  Wrapped in seaweed? Why did we think this was okay? I tried a pickle roll... and it was pretty good!  I say as much and so we both get a little bit more brave. Nivek (her son) decides that he wants Mango so he eats it first (he may have had a little encouraging from us...). He manages to get it down with little to no effort, with only a mild grimace. Jenny and I are looking at eachother.  Daring one or the other to go first. She caves and eats one with... prunes? fat raisens? figs? anyway, she tries it and her face tells all. Oh dear. My turn. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pick a friendly looking roll at the top. It has cherries?  Or possibly dried cranberries. This looks promising. BAD IDEA. Why ANYONE thought that fruit, seaweed and rice go together I'll never know.  I'm relatively positive that the little Japanese lady woke up in the morning 10 Bento's short and decided to scrounge the house for options. I don't think that anyone would willingly eat these. I sank my teeth in.. chewed twice and spat it back out. I NEVER spit out food. Ewwwww! Surprisingly... the tofu omelet wrap was pretty good.  And the mystery ingredient didn't ruin anything (thank goodness). The nuts were... edible. That's about all I can say about them. They didn't make me want to stop eating for the rest of my life, but they didn't really encourage the idea either. Maybe this is why everyone is so skinny in Japan!? Well... we are heading to Seattle several times in the next week... I dont see a stop at the Bento place in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, the kids agree with us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/So_6LZTDF9I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/hAj9TcSZZ2Y/s1600-h/100_2088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/So_6LZTDF9I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/hAj9TcSZZ2Y/s200/100_2088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372787954152576978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-561967132897877396?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/561967132897877396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=561967132897877396' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/561967132897877396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/561967132897877396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/08/bento-bust.html' title='Bento Bust!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/So_6Kvb-3VI/AAAAAAAAAKA/3gWMZfsd7qQ/s72-c/100_1974.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-8955139269330907352</id><published>2009-08-09T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T18:49:00.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a little fun Outback.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368145432502057682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sn971EbrutI/AAAAAAAAAJw/KhwR8NZoXiU/s200/153.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night (as it's been for most nights this week), James and I went out to dinner, but we let Derek tag along. He is a part of the family now afterall. Don't get me wrong, I still cook, but we enjoy going out together and since we get to do it so rarely we like to cram in as many nights out as we can in the short time he is in. It also keeps the house considerably cleaner. Which means, more cuddle time, less clean time. I think both of us agree that this is a good decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368145425121733410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sn970o8E6yI/AAAAAAAAAJo/4zannUo3QZ8/s200/151.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, we all stacked into the Tahoe for the quick ride to the Outback! But before we left I grabbed the camera. I've been slacking on the whole "bring the camera" thing in general. So with camera in tow, we went to dinner, ate, and returned home, without a single picture taken. Ugh. Oh well! Quick remedy? Photo shoot on the front steps! Only, I had to take the pictures, so here are Der&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sn971qW6cyI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/7M8nbq0sMOo/s1600-h/161.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ek and James after our date night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-8955139269330907352?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/8955139269330907352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=8955139269330907352' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/8955139269330907352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/8955139269330907352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-little-fun-outback.html' title='Just a little fun Outback.'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sn971EbrutI/AAAAAAAAAJw/KhwR8NZoXiU/s72-c/153.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-4302333351252048866</id><published>2009-08-06T12:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T13:18:43.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Date nights and Car Accidents</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was just one of those days. I have an entire week and a half off of work, and I'm enjoying the quiet time with James ( who has roughly that same amount of time in port). I truly treasure the simple conversations and the giggling that we share as newlyweds. It seems that whenever we are together there is always something to laugh at, it's kept my spirits up even when I know that he will be leaving again soon.  At least I get to look forward to more inside jokes and exciting events when he returns.  We decided that last night would be date-night.  Though really, every night this week has been date night. It's almost like a honeymoon.  I've saved up this paycheck so we have plenty of money and we enjoy going out and doing things that we don't get to do as often as we should. Simple things like walking around the mall (which always leads us to a video game store - or Barnes and Noble, both of our weaknesses), or going out to dinner. Last night was no exception. Red Lobster, followed by a quick trip to Target (me) and Game Stop (him) and then to Chucky Cheese for a birthday party. We only stayed an hour or so before we had to get back for a movie! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.  It's very funny.  It is a bit lacking in excitement, but it definitely gives a big finish and the anticipation for the next movie that it should. James loved it as well. We both had a blast even though the movie theaters are lousy and we pay tons of money to sit in seats where you can't see past the person in front of you.  I guess not everywhere can be as great as Utah when it comes to movies.  It's just about my one complaint with the area here in Washington.  Really lame Movie Theaters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; After the show it was around 10 and we were headed back using the back roads.  I hate driving on the freeway at night.  I feel blinded by the oncoming cars in my little escort, and though the thing runs like a trooper, I just don't like the mild panic when you literally can't see a foot in front of your windsheild. The back roads are a little better, though as I turned onto one of the roads near our house, a lady decided to exit the parking lot of a gas station right in front of me. Smart. We came within about 2 inches of her passenger side door before I was able to swerve slightly to the side and into the parking lot of the local bar, dodging parked vehicles and pedestrians alike and stopping.  Completely white knuckled and terrified.  The lady in the other car didn't even look at me.  I'm sure she was embarassed, but I was worried more for her safety.  Was she okay?  James and I were in one piece after the near collision, but was she?  Apparently: she drove off without a second thought for me in my little car.  Nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time since I was in a near accident and I hope that it's another long time before I'm in another one.  I couldn't shop shaking on the way home, even though James assured me that had we hit her he would have made sure to break a bone so that he could be kept home from this underway. Blast.  Is it healthy for a couple to cheer injuries? Probably not, but I know we aren't the only ones that do it, I think it must be a military thing.  Either way, I'm glad that James and I are safe, and am more than greatful that we just replaced the brakes on the escort. This is the second time that little car has saved me, I think it will have a home with us forever. Thanks Dad. :)  I guess no matter where you are, you are always watching out for your little girl. Sometimes it takes an accident to bring out focus on what's important. James and I are safe and healthy, and that's all that matters - as James said: "Objects are replaceable, you aren't."  Buckle up everyone!  Love,&lt;br /&gt;Kara&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-4302333351252048866?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/4302333351252048866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=4302333351252048866' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4302333351252048866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4302333351252048866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/08/date-nights-and-car-accidents.html' title='Date nights and Car Accidents'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-1216546306869828019</id><published>2009-08-02T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T20:05:44.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Prisoners - UNITE!</title><content type='html'>So much has happened since my last post. I started feeling overwhelmed and behind on updates. My pictures keep stacking up on the camera and in the meantime absolutely nothing gets done. Well.. I'm a blog prisoner no more! I'm liberating myself by doing an all inclusive update. And then I can start with a clean slate. I know that others of you have the same problem, so... I'm encouraging you to do the same. Shed the shackles of Blog Blues... and be free. Like me! :) Sooo, Update number one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer have a roommate!&lt;br /&gt;My sweet Marissa actually left a few months ago to head back to Utah. I miss her lots but it was good to get a few days with James to myself when he got home. Which leads to update number two!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James was home for a whooole month.&lt;br /&gt;We went to&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SnZRIls2QUI/AAAAAAAAAJI/p9ueQx9xJbY/s1600-h/IMG_0783.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365565214059544898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SnZRIls2QUI/AAAAAAAAAJI/p9ueQx9xJbY/s200/IMG_0783.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Seattle for Sushi, got a pet peacock (not purposefully it adopted us for a few days before it moved on to a neighbor who lives a few houses behind us.) We bought an X-box 360 and a new 40 inch TV - all James's idea of course. I think he's pretty happy to show off his new "toys". So I couldn't help but throw in a little snippet about it. I'm sure I'll get pictures up soon... cause the entertainment stand is beautiful...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a NEW roommate!&lt;br /&gt;Derek Nichols is one of the guys on James's boat, and they work together in the same division. He's made a fun addition to the family. Because they are only going to be in port for two months of this entire year he didn't want to waste money on an apartment and instead decided to crash in our extra room. He may just have a matress on the floor and an old dresser, but he has a place to stay with nice people who care about his well being. He seems pleased to be apart of our little family, and James and I love having him around. I have a feeling that this arrangement will lead to having a life-long friend. Having a roommate isnt' too bad - especially because he doesn't mind being kicked out occasionally so that James and I can have our alone time. ;) Which probably happens more often than not! We fondly call him the family pet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365565679076423890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 190px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SnZRjqBguNI/AAAAAAAAAJY/GF2FhguJZs8/s200/Derek+Navy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a Promotion!&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't know I work for a company called: Spoiled Rotten Pet Sitting. ( Check out the website @ &lt;a href="http://www.spoiledrottenpetsittingllc.com/"&gt;http://www.spoiledrottenpetsittingllc.com/&lt;/a&gt; ) I'm officially a pet sitter, and now I'm also the Client Coordinator! This means I handle all customer service and set up jobs from scratch. Its a lot of fun but -really- busy, and I'm sure if you talk to me regularly you've heard me complain about it. Really though I have a wonderful job and I get paid to make sure that animals are taken care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Horsie is coming in August!&lt;br /&gt;I have a horse. Her name is Red. She lives in Utah, and I live in Washington. Well.... Not much longer! I found her a great barn called "Painted Valley Farms" and it's wonderful. The people are great and I found a fantastic price to get her shipped out here. YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SnZSJL3HJYI/AAAAAAAAAJg/45PpSVy21_E/s1600-h/IMG_0611.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365566323814770050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SnZSJL3HJYI/AAAAAAAAAJg/45PpSVy21_E/s200/IMG_0611.JPG" border="0" /&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;James lost a bunch of weight!&lt;br /&gt;I figured that if -I- had lost a bunch of weight, I would probably blog about it, so I should do the same for my adorable husband. He had a busy underway for the first half of this year and while he was gone he started working out and never looked back. He lost over 3 inches around his already svelt frame, which left me wondering where on earth my husband went?! I'm not complaining though - he's always been cute. Now he's just that much better. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365565448544227122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SnZRWPOWjzI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/Zmf2hSrhHlc/s200/IMG_0791.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that just about rounds out the most important things, so I guess I'll say farewell until tomorrow... or later on this week as I already have a blog idea that I know I'm going to do. Hope you enjoyed reading my updates as much as I enjoyed being liberated from my chains...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-1216546306869828019?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1216546306869828019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=1216546306869828019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1216546306869828019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1216546306869828019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-prisoners-unite.html' title='Blog Prisoners - UNITE!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SnZRIls2QUI/AAAAAAAAAJI/p9ueQx9xJbY/s72-c/IMG_0783.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-5812930277635255051</id><published>2009-04-13T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T19:18:58.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Festivities... and DDR.</title><content type='html'>I had a great Easter with my spiffy friends who made just about the most scrumptious dinner. Between Jenny's ham, Raymond's honey-butter, my rolls, and Tina's cheesecake we were ah... well, we were all full within about 5 minutes. But all the rest of the food LOOKED delicious. And we all pined about the fact that we were too full to eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after our meal.. we decided that we should burn off the added calories and busted out the wii fit. I WISH I had my camera for that, but I didn't make that mistake twice and made sure to pick it up later that night for DDR. For those of you less electronically minded... you may know this as "Dance Dance Revolution." Or as I like to call it: "Dance Dance Ridiculous!" It was fun! Haha, I had forgotten how absolutely crazy that game gets, and we were only playing it on beginner! It made me long for the days when I used to be able to tear those mats apart with my mad "dancing" skills. It's been a long time... apparently. Because the only thing I was tearing were my pants when I fell all over myself (I didnt' really tear my pants.. I wore stretchy ones.. for ease of movement). Raymond ducked out early, so we made it a girls night and took some time getting some good pictures... it took awhile....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SePwoxrOrLI/AAAAAAAAAI4/_U7Rza7Lgp4/s1600-h/IMG_0549.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324363767802145970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SePwoxrOrLI/AAAAAAAAAI4/_U7Rza7Lgp4/s200/IMG_0549.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hmmm.. not quite...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SePwovoSt9I/AAAAAAAAAIo/aacTJIYiDok/s1600-h/IMG_0542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324363767252957138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SePwovoSt9I/AAAAAAAAAIo/aacTJIYiDok/s200/IMG_0542.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ah.. Nope!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SePwofXhZpI/AAAAAAAAAIg/jhN_zTRFawQ/s1600-h/IMG_0531.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324363762887648914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SePwofXhZpI/AAAAAAAAAIg/jhN_zTRFawQ/s200/IMG_0531.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Definitely Not&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SePwpCpV5WI/AAAAAAAAAJA/2_bvPZrtJao/s1600-h/IMG_0554.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324363772357633378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SePwpCpV5WI/AAAAAAAAAJA/2_bvPZrtJao/s200/IMG_0554.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;FINALLY! A cute pic!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was the perfect end to a fun day! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-5812930277635255051?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/5812930277635255051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=5812930277635255051' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/5812930277635255051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/5812930277635255051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-festivities-and-ddr.html' title='Easter Festivities... and DDR.'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SePwoxrOrLI/AAAAAAAAAI4/_U7Rza7Lgp4/s72-c/IMG_0549.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-2749768727667815261</id><published>2009-04-11T19:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T19:18:45.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog stalker... that's me!</title><content type='html'>So the other day while I was meandering between all the blogs on my list for the umpteenth time I discovered that several of my regular stops had tracers.  Curious, I scrolled down the list of "hits"  where it says the name of a the fellow blogger each time they look at your site only to see that my name showed up more than anyone elses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This particular friend isn't one that I'm close to, she just leaves hillarious posts and I enjoy to browse.  She also updates rather regularly, so I find myself stopping in several times a day to read up on her witty remarks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.. that's weird!  I didn't think of myself as a someone who browses blogs &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; often!  This must be some mistake!  I don't have that much time... do I?  A careful exam of all the similar apps on my friends and families blogs have the same result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a Blog Stalker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found that it's making me incredibly shy!  I find myself making sure I'm not logged in so that I can sneak around the blasted app so that people don't know that I reading up on them.  But how creepy is that?!  I'm practically sulking around in the bushes! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.. I'm not hiding any longer!  I am a Blog Stalker, and I'm proud of it!  Well.. who am I kidding.. I'll still probably sneak a bit, but at least you all know now that i'm doing it.  And I will not EVER add such an app to my account. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fellow blog stalkers, come and go as you wish!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-2749768727667815261?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/2749768727667815261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=2749768727667815261' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/2749768727667815261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/2749768727667815261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-stalker-thats-me.html' title='Blog stalker... that&apos;s me!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-1454038849819494013</id><published>2009-04-08T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T20:56:30.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I wanted a change...</title><content type='html'>AND I GOT IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sd1w8R527vI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Xpntf2r7pkU/s1600-h/IMG_0449.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322534515522334450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sd1w8R527vI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Xpntf2r7pkU/s200/IMG_0449.JPG" border="0" /&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;I went red! Well.. okay, so it's mostely brown, but it's as close to a fiery redhead as I've been and I LOVE it. And how hot am I with bangs?! I keep being told my the hair-color is making my eyes "pop" I can't say I dissagree.. I mean.. they've always been blue, but I suppose I'm noticing them more? Anyway, This is my sweet awesome haircut, done by a really good friend of mine; Bree Carlson. She rocks, obviously... who knew my hair could have so much bounce and body? Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sd1v8RnYJjI/AAAAAAAAAII/b7svhiLRxg8/s1600-h/IMG_0430.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322533415933191730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sd1v8RnYJjI/AAAAAAAAAII/b7svhiLRxg8/s200/IMG_0430.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sd1v8DD-HPI/AAAAAAAAAIA/qV0_nudtLI4/s1600-h/IMG_0433.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322533412026588402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sd1v8DD-HPI/AAAAAAAAAIA/qV0_nudtLI4/s200/IMG_0433.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-1454038849819494013?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1454038849819494013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=1454038849819494013' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1454038849819494013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1454038849819494013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-wanted-change.html' title='I wanted a change...'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/Sd1w8R527vI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Xpntf2r7pkU/s72-c/IMG_0449.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-8951686816083527049</id><published>2009-04-03T13:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T23:47:46.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VERY IMPORTANT UPDATES... well.. sort of.</title><content type='html'>First off, my husband is cute:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ0NjRA5ZI/AAAAAAAAAHA/3C0KOhYCWm4/s1600-h/IMG_0072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320567785938544018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ0NjRA5ZI/AAAAAAAAAHA/3C0KOhYCWm4/s200/IMG_0072.JPG" border="0" /&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;Secondly, I learned how to shoot guns!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ0fFsfndI/AAAAAAAAAHI/l6AEMWZKK38/s1600-h/IMG_0216.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320568087238385106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ0fFsfndI/AAAAAAAAAHI/l6AEMWZKK38/s200/IMG_0216.JPG" border="0" /&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;Thirdly, It was my birthday, and I have great friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ0xf5HeoI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/jgT8lPWvAec/s1600-h/IMG_0258.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320568403508296322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ0xf5HeoI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/jgT8lPWvAec/s200/IMG_0258.JPG" border="0" /&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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ1JAq5fJI/AAAAAAAAAHY/MUubNmwEHAw/s1600-h/IMG_0259.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320568807444020370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ1JAq5fJI/AAAAAAAAAHY/MUubNmwEHAw/s200/IMG_0259.JPG" border="0" /&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;Fourth, My husband remembered my birthday too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ1tsnNjsI/AAAAAAAAAHg/NdfD72HlCX0/s1600-h/IMG_0267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320569437715009218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ1tsnNjsI/AAAAAAAAAHg/NdfD72HlCX0/s200/IMG_0267.JPG" border="0" /&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;Fifth, I went to Forks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ2bOdClOI/AAAAAAAAAHo/0RrNXnYMBdg/s1600-h/IMG_0343.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320570219893265634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ2bOdClOI/AAAAAAAAAHo/0RrNXnYMBdg/s200/IMG_0343.JPG" border="0" /&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;And La Push&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ3Ah7zIyI/AAAAAAAAAHw/joTDv8JiVbM/s1600-h/IMG_0340.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320570860777710370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ3Ah7zIyI/AAAAAAAAAHw/joTDv8JiVbM/s200/IMG_0340.JPG" border="0" /&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;I adopted some kids.. so that I could get pictures of them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdmkGL6JZ1I/AAAAAAAAAH4/K_TC6l2DOA4/s1600-h/IMG_0324.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321464860897797970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdmkGL6JZ1I/AAAAAAAAAH4/K_TC6l2DOA4/s200/IMG_0324.JPG" border="0" /&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;And last.. but definitely not least, I HAD A BLAST!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This spring has pretty much rocked my socks so far. If I don't get to hole up in the house with my favorite new series (shout out to Sookie Stackhouse!) then I spend my time exploring my beautiful Washington. I'm only a few months into James's deployment, and I miss him like crazy. Still no contact from his end though this was expected. For now I just occupy my time by staying busy and trying not to sulk. I'm doing a pretty good job so far!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-8951686816083527049?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/8951686816083527049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=8951686816083527049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/8951686816083527049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/8951686816083527049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/04/very-important-updates-well-sort-of.html' title='VERY IMPORTANT UPDATES... well.. sort of.'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SdZ0NjRA5ZI/AAAAAAAAAHA/3C0KOhYCWm4/s72-c/IMG_0072.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-1162235106912122463</id><published>2009-03-01T19:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T19:50:54.641-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates and Manchester State Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308432798257007218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SatXgTYkSnI/AAAAAAAAAG4/HxATcWOuKNI/s200/DSCF0375.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I've been really neglecting my poor blog, since it's already been two months since new years! Where has the time gone? James is back out to sea, and I've been spending most of my time just hanging out with my new roommate! Marissa Curtis moved in with me into our spare room. She was my roommate back in college and happened to find an internship here in Washington. So while she keeps me sane, I drag her all over exploring Washington's coast. Last weekend we hit up Port Gamble and then stopped by a place to eat called the "Grub Hut" It was great! And this weekend we took a trip to Manchester where we saw: A deer, an eagle, a camel, and starfish! And tons of Green anemones that I'm sure we squished while we were trying to climb over the rocks. We had a blast! Here are just a few pictur&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SatWXmqp9aI/AAAAAAAAAGg/4TpoxwS9S1g/s1600-h/DSCF0363.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308431549302699426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SatWXmqp9aI/AAAAAAAAAGg/4TpoxwS9S1g/s200/DSCF0363.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;es to keep everyone occupied!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SatWXUKTPLI/AAAAAAAAAGY/ueGRa-5Ntxk/s1600-h/DSCF0361.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308431544335154354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 186px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SatWXUKTPLI/AAAAAAAAAGY/ueGRa-5Ntxk/s200/DSCF0361.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SatWX88OGFI/AAAAAAAAAGo/53F778Zvtn0/s1600-h/DSCF0370.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308431555281950802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SatWX88OGFI/AAAAAAAAAGo/53F778Zvtn0/s200/DSCF0370.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SatWYPoz8-I/AAAAAAAAAGw/VJIX8QGWuNQ/s1600-h/DSCF0374.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-1162235106912122463?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1162235106912122463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=1162235106912122463' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1162235106912122463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1162235106912122463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/03/updates-and-manchester-state-park.html' title='Updates and Manchester State Park'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SatXgTYkSnI/AAAAAAAAAG4/HxATcWOuKNI/s72-c/DSCF0375.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-8312872264239776806</id><published>2009-01-05T14:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T15:07:21.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New years shananigans</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKSLuIPI-I/AAAAAAAAAFI/umUrd02jcC0/s1600-h/2008-2009+082.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287949642545177570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKSLuIPI-I/AAAAAAAAAFI/umUrd02jcC0/s200/2008-2009+082.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKSMlHxU4I/AAAAAAAAAFg/QahzMdlBYTQ/s1600-h/2008-2009+072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287949657307173762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKSMlHxU4I/AAAAAAAAAFg/QahzMdlBYTQ/s200/2008-2009+072.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKSMR0tAcI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gkezncw5w_k/s1600-h/2008-2009+068.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKSL9vcURI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/18FySRNoPgs/s1600-h/2008-2009+080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287949646736150802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKSL9vcURI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/18FySRNoPgs/s200/2008-2009+080.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKQ6raIImI/AAAAAAAAAFA/9paqMagxXfo/s1600-h/2008-2009+048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287948250245505634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKQ6raIImI/AAAAAAAAAFA/9paqMagxXfo/s200/2008-2009+048.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For New Years this year we spent a lot of the evening at home before we went over to Dale and Tina's where Ray and Jenny and their friend Sheila came over. It was so fun! I love my friends, they are fantastic people! James and I had out our sparkling cider and demonstrated that you don't have to drink to have fun. We had a blast playing Guitar Hero and just chatting with eachother until we finally headed home around 1:00. I have wonderful neighbors. I hope everyone had a great holiday! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think James stole the show when it came to the pictures, he is such a cutie!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKQ6jhv8nI/AAAAAAAAAE4/Ud1V1IcPuFU/s1600-h/2008-2009+037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287948248129991282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKQ6jhv8nI/AAAAAAAAAE4/Ud1V1IcPuFU/s200/2008-2009+037.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKQ6KmFLTI/AAAAAAAAAEw/AXG7Nr18H9Y/s1600-h/2008-2009+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287948241437273394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKQ6KmFLTI/AAAAAAAAAEw/AXG7Nr18H9Y/s200/2008-2009+033.jpg" border="0" /&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;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-8312872264239776806?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/8312872264239776806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=8312872264239776806' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/8312872264239776806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/8312872264239776806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-years-shananigans.html' title='New years shananigans'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SWKSLuIPI-I/AAAAAAAAAFI/umUrd02jcC0/s72-c/2008-2009+082.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-4265212466930181102</id><published>2008-12-22T06:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T06:47:41.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BEEEEEEP!  LOW BATTERY!</title><content type='html'>Last night, I'm cozy and snuggled up in bed beside my husband when I'm awoken by what I swear is a woman's voice.  Groggy, I sit up in bed, heart pounding, holding my breath before there it is again!  A loud "BEEEP"  followed by a very distinct woman's voice coming over what sounds like a mega-phone.  "MURRRABBERTY."  (to my muffled-still asleep brain... I swear it was nothing more than a jumble of letters)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?  did I hear that right?  Still incredibly nervous I tiptoe to our door, and notice that the power is out!  No light in the house and our flashlights are downstairs.  Still moving like a snail I make it to the stairs...  "BEEEEEEP!!!"  "LOW BATTERY!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jumped, easily a mile high and very nearly tumble down the stairs, but miraculously manage to stable myself before it all suddenly makes sense.  Was that our smoke alarm?  They -talk- now?!  Sure enough, just as I get to the base of the stairs.  "BEEEP!!"  "LOW BATTERY!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dug out the flashlight and then managed to drag myself back upstairs to get my husband.  He wasn't happy but after realizing how annoying it was he figured that it was worth a shot to attempt to fix it.  With me holding the flashlight he managed to open up the battery slot only to see that it is a 9 volt... something that we definitely didn't have a replacement for.  The nearest store doesn't open until 10:00AM it was 1:00AM.  So what to do?  Go back to bed apparently and attempt to shut out the stupid woman trilling at us from the base of our stairs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say... it was a ROUGH night.  With no end in sight, I'm heading back up to bed to try and catch up on a few hours of missed sleep. Why don't smoke alarms have volume buttons?  And who on earth decided to teach them how to talk?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-4265212466930181102?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/4265212466930181102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=4265212466930181102' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4265212466930181102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4265212466930181102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/beeeeeep-low-battery.html' title='BEEEEEEP!  LOW BATTERY!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-1887781332851207537</id><published>2008-12-20T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T22:24:23.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The SSS</title><content type='html'>The following conversation took place between 6:10-6:11 PM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lowered voice comes over the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Meet us out back at 8:30."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"8:30?  What--"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dress warm."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following pictures were taken between 8:30 and 10:00 PM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gAh5tSdI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/-N0gPRTEFzQ/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gAh5tSdI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/-N0gPRTEFzQ/s200/015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282124237680495058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gBW9fqzI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Hw30RH5wPUM/s1600-h/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gBW9fqzI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Hw30RH5wPUM/s200/014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282124251923458866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gBB1VFlI/AAAAAAAAAEg/gzxg4qQ0Vy4/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gBB1VFlI/AAAAAAAAAEg/gzxg4qQ0Vy4/s200/011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282124246252066386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gAavDuzI/AAAAAAAAAEI/wzcMeFDEgOY/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gAavDuzI/AAAAAAAAAEI/wzcMeFDEgOY/s200/007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282124235756780338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gA4qI2II/AAAAAAAAAEY/f9_Gc5GqG3o/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gA4qI2II/AAAAAAAAAEY/f9_Gc5GqG3o/s200/009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282124243789207682" border="0" /&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;YEP!  I'm officially a part of the Secret Sledding Society!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tina, Jenny and I met out back while their kids slept or were watched by their dad.  James even got in on the fun, though he was NOT dressed for it.  We had a BLAST!  I guess there is a bit of a bonus to all of the hills here in Washington.  LET IT SNOW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-1887781332851207537?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1887781332851207537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=1887781332851207537' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1887781332851207537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/1887781332851207537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/sss.html' title='The SSS'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU3gAh5tSdI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/-N0gPRTEFzQ/s72-c/015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-5058411886955276227</id><published>2008-12-20T18:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T18:48:33.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OH! THE WEATHER OUTSIDE IS FRIGHTFUL!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU2tCdaGHdI/AAAAAAAAAD4/sOMq2LR8l1k/s1600-h/Winter+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU2tCdaGHdI/AAAAAAAAAD4/sOMq2LR8l1k/s320/Winter+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282068195740884434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, winter is finally upon us and I have to say that people in Washington have -no- idea how to handle their roads!  We were officially snowed in after just 2-4 inches of snow!  The number of accidents on James's boat alone was astounding, and the fact that yesterday I was able to sit at the window and watch car after car after truck after tow truck slide backwards down my little hill tells me that they have some serious issues with their snow and ice control.  The streets were starting to clear, but tonight we were told to expect anywhere from 6-24 inches!  And winds up to 90 miles an hour.  I'm preparing for the worst...  So I have books, hot chocolate, candles, flashlights, water, blankets and my hubby.  For some reason I think I'll be juuuuust fine.  Who says that being snowed in is a bad thing?  We've already been called and told that church is cancled, it's the second time -ever- that I've not had an obligation to head out early Sunday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it could be worse.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU2tCvwq9UI/AAAAAAAAAEA/qsV6ec5MP4o/s1600-h/Winter+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU2tCvwq9UI/AAAAAAAAAEA/qsV6ec5MP4o/s320/Winter+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282068200667411778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Above is the infamous hill that claimed many a driver yesterday.  Can you believe that the roads were still this bad even though the storm ended 3 days ago? Only going to get worse from here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-5058411886955276227?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/5058411886955276227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=5058411886955276227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/5058411886955276227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/5058411886955276227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/oh-weather-outside-is-frightful.html' title='OH! THE WEATHER OUTSIDE IS FRIGHTFUL!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SU2tCdaGHdI/AAAAAAAAAD4/sOMq2LR8l1k/s72-c/Winter+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-9158864873963807518</id><published>2008-12-15T23:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T00:05:00.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The power of observation...</title><content type='html'>Tonight we had some surprise visitors!  The missionaries stopped by because James had given them a referral and they wanted to know if they could teach him over at our house because he lives on Base.  Of course we agreed, and then because it was P-day for the Missionaries, they hung out with us for some of the night for hot chocolate and good conversation.  It was so fun to have them in our house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the other nights "Backpack"  incident (see entry below) I felt that it would be unfair to James not to include this little morsel of humor given to us by one of the Elders, who shall remain last-nameless to protect his identity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James and the Elder were sitting on the long couch (he was roughly in the same position as James in the picture below) and James asked about a cup I had out on the glass table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey?  Why is this cup here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "I was using it to water the tree."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Elder, sitting quietly until this point starts looking around the room questioningly before asking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What tree?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't take him long to figure out his mistake, though in all honesty I was laughing too hard to do anything other than point at our tree.  And as an afterthought, I never really thought that anyone could turn that red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUdg_nDcyKI/AAAAAAAAADg/hpxLXzMMURY/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUdg_nDcyKI/AAAAAAAAADg/hpxLXzMMURY/s320/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280295734046673058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-9158864873963807518?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/9158864873963807518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=9158864873963807518' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/9158864873963807518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/9158864873963807518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/power-of-observation.html' title='The power of observation...'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUdg_nDcyKI/AAAAAAAAADg/hpxLXzMMURY/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-7808031560206465263</id><published>2008-12-14T21:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T17:36:35.117-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Backpack</title><content type='html'>First person to spot the backpack gets a prize!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXyzVZEmGI/AAAAAAAAADY/K01pkIr6FaE/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXyzVZEmGI/AAAAAAAAADY/K01pkIr6FaE/s320/Christmas+2008+013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279893101891328098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this exact position James turns to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey?  Where did you put my backpack?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever wondered what your spouse would do without you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-7808031560206465263?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/7808031560206465263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=7808031560206465263' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/7808031560206465263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/7808031560206465263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/first-person-to-spot-backpack-gets.html' title='Backpack'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXyzVZEmGI/AAAAAAAAADY/K01pkIr6FaE/s72-c/Christmas+2008+013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-3790825179084633684</id><published>2008-12-14T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T21:57:49.562-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bubbles Anyone?!</title><content type='html'>Last night after our tree finding fiasco, I had a bit of a meltdown.  The house was a disaster because of left over dishes from the Ward Christmas dinner.  Our living room was trashed with pine needles and garbage from the ornaments and I was having a breakdown about the amount of work that needed to get done before bedtime.  After falling apart and snapping at my sweet husband he forced me to blog and went and cleaned the kitchen.  It was exactly what I needed to unwind, but the part that made me smile the most was when I walked into the kitchen to find bubbles!  Water and big frothy bubbles were happily seeping into every corner of my floor.   Moral of the story?  Make sure your husband knows that the soap on top of the counter doesn't go in the dishwasher.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXxdgd70FI/AAAAAAAAADI/VQYD3HFBzNU/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXxdgd70FI/AAAAAAAAADI/VQYD3HFBzNU/s320/Christmas+2008+008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279891627395764306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXxmPhUmWI/AAAAAAAAADQ/0AA9bWagi7Y/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXxmPhUmWI/AAAAAAAAADQ/0AA9bWagi7Y/s320/Christmas+2008+009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279891777465391458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-3790825179084633684?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/3790825179084633684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=3790825179084633684' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/3790825179084633684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/3790825179084633684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/bubbles-anyone.html' title='Bubbles Anyone?!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXxdgd70FI/AAAAAAAAADI/VQYD3HFBzNU/s72-c/Christmas+2008+008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-5825011286627655672</id><published>2008-12-14T21:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T21:47:20.834-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas lights and a new bow!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXuty9nDLI/AAAAAAAAACw/nWkJZUT80_8/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXuty9nDLI/AAAAAAAAACw/nWkJZUT80_8/s320/Christmas+2008+024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279888608703483058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a new bow put on my tree because the other one had some serious issues (see below).  So I went out and bou&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXu4j4KbvI/AAAAAAAAAC4/EB8VO5HP3Pk/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXu4j4KbvI/AAAAAAAAAC4/EB8VO5HP3Pk/s320/Christmas+2008+023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279888793632665330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ght the ribbon and I made it myself!  Isn't it pretty?!  In the pictures it really looks like the purple of the ribbon clashes with the purple on the tree, but in reality it looks beautiful and I am the envy of all my neighbors.  Not that that matters or anything... I mean, we all know that Christmas is the season of giving and such. ;)  Ah what the heck, I'm going to enjoy my smugness while it lasts!  Our tree is beautiful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also put some pictures of our place with the Christmas lights on it, though we couldn't get a good pic... at least you'll be able to see what the townhouse looks like.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXvCZYI2kI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ktq_8TaFLU4/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXvCZYI2kI/AAAAAAAAADA/Ktq_8TaFLU4/s320/Christmas+2008+007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279888962612681282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-5825011286627655672?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/5825011286627655672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=5825011286627655672' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/5825011286627655672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/5825011286627655672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-lights-and-new-bow.html' title='Christmas lights and a new bow!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUXuty9nDLI/AAAAAAAAACw/nWkJZUT80_8/s72-c/Christmas+2008+024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-2059565531682093273</id><published>2008-12-13T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T19:17:30.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O Christmas Tree!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUR5Rg5U6AI/AAAAAAAAACo/-VE6v3QC4UM/s1600-h/Random+off+my+camera+154.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUR5Rg5U6AI/AAAAAAAAACo/-VE6v3QC4UM/s320/Random+off+my+camera+154.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279478004980180994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James and I finally decided to get into the Christmas spirit and went out to get a tree!  We drove from WalMart to Home Depot to Lowe's and finally to -another- Lowe's before settling on the perfect tree!  It may sound demanding but it was very necessary.  It was a good way to find just the right tree.  Oh... and the bow on top is only temporary.  It will have a much better something on top whenever I get the chance to go to the store.   Now time to settle down for a movie and a cup of hot chocolate.  I love Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUR46zOanKI/AAAAAAAAACQ/IHGkhIMltGo/s1600-h/Random+off+my+camera+163.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUR46zOanKI/AAAAAAAAACQ/IHGkhIMltGo/s320/Random+off+my+camera+163.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279477614763482274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUR5RNRFt6I/AAAAAAAAACg/L2-RF35A_08/s1600-h/Random+off+my+camera+168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUR5RNRFt6I/AAAAAAAAACg/L2-RF35A_08/s320/Random+off+my+camera+168.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279477999711139746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUR5Q4p5YGI/AAAAAAAAACY/Hux5yQRF_RQ/s1600-h/Random+off+my+camera+166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUR5Q4p5YGI/AAAAAAAAACY/Hux5yQRF_RQ/s320/Random+off+my+camera+166.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279477994178044002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-2059565531682093273?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/2059565531682093273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=2059565531682093273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/2059565531682093273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/2059565531682093273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/o-christmas-tree.html' title='O Christmas Tree!!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SUR5Rg5U6AI/AAAAAAAAACo/-VE6v3QC4UM/s72-c/Random+off+my+camera+154.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-4566175867626856961</id><published>2008-12-05T22:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T22:41:18.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Airport Adventures</title><content type='html'>For Thanksgiving, James and I got to go to Utah to visit my family!  We had a blast and were so grateful to be able to spend time with those we love during the holidays.  It was nice, however, to return back home on the 3rd to enjoy the last day of his leave together.  My friend Alyssa was kind enough to come pick us up from the airport.  The following conversation ensued:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey 'Lyss, yeah, we are just here at the Delta sign.  So just follow around, I think it's the third to last one."  (As a side note... I've done this bit a lot, thus why I have the airport memorized)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At about that time, I hang up the phone and an older Indian (from India) man approached in full turban and all and started asking us questions.  I declined the taxi ride that I thought he was offering, only to meet his confused eyes.  He asks his question again, slower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No.  Do. You. Have. A. Cellular. Phone."  Seems simple enough but in my defense he had a -really- heavy accent and I only figured it when he pronounced Cellular with almost 6 syllables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OH!  Yeah.. ah... I have a phone..." I was a bit nervous at this point but I knew he had just seen me talking on it and would have felt bad lying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Caaan I maaake a caallll on eeeet? Mah daauugghhtah eees supposed too bee heah to get me."  he inquired to which, after a moment of translative thought I tugged out my phone and asked her number.  No way was I going to let him make some call to an India area code or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me the number and I punched it in, relieved to hear a Washington area code, and then... I handed over my phone.  YEP!  My precious phone to a complete stranger!  His conversation was short and in a different language but he hung up and handed the phone back and aside from refusing to meet my eyes he was incredibly kind and a few minutes later I saw him pass back by with a lovely Indian woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me wonder though, just how many people he had to ask before someone would allow him to use their phone.  It made me happy that I was able to help him... in spite of my misgivings about the situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY, on to the funny stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after the Indian man left I turned back to James who was looking particularly contemplative. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is it honey?"  I'm curious as always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well... I was just noticing sweetie that there isn't a Delta sign anywheres (yes he said anywheres) near us." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blink sweetly and casually look straight above our heads at the HUGE sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh really?  Really?  There isn't one -anywhere- here?" He finally looks up and offers the adorably sheepish smile that I love so well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah.. Heh. Heh.  This stays between us." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently he had looked both backward and forward and, seeing no Delta on either of the signs surrounding us, assumed that I had been mistaken in our positioning.  I found it charmingly adorable, and we both had a good laugh afterwards.  And for the record, he eventually gave me permission to put it on my blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-4566175867626856961?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/4566175867626856961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=4566175867626856961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4566175867626856961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4566175867626856961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/airport-adventures.html' title='Airport Adventures'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-675962582717787619</id><published>2008-12-05T09:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T09:18:17.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My first tag!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 class="post-title"&gt; &lt;a href="http://donallphinjrfamily.blogspot.com/2008/12/bold-tag.html"&gt;Bold Tag...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;I saw this in Jennifer's blog, but it is in Lacy's too!  I figured I would see just what I've done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Started your own blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Slept under the stars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Played in a band&lt;/span&gt; [I think singing counts]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Visited Hawaii&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Watched a meteor shower&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Given more than you can afford to charity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Been to Disneyland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Climbed a mountain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Held a praying mantis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10. Sang a solo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Bungee jumped&lt;br /&gt;12. Visited Paris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;13. Watched a lightning storm at sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;14.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Taught yourself an art from scratch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Adopted a child&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;16.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Had food poisoning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;18&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Grown your own vegetables&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France&lt;br /&gt;20.Slept on an overnight train&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;21.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Had a pillow fight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.Hitch hiked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;23.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Taken a sick day when you’re not ill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;24.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Built a snow fort&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;25.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Held a lamb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;26.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gone skinny dipping&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;27. Run a Marathon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;29. Seen a total eclipse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;30. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Watched a sunrise or sunset&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;31. Hit a home run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Been on a cruise&lt;br /&gt;33. Seen Niagara Falls in person&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors&lt;/span&gt; [Though it depends on how far back you wanna go... because I haven't been to Italy or anything..]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;35. Seen an Amish community&lt;/span&gt; [From a distance]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;36. Taught yourself a new language&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;39. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gone rock climbing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. Seen Michelangelo’s David&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;41. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sung Karaoke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. Visited Africa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;45. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Walked on a beach by moonlight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;46. Been transported in an ambulance&lt;br /&gt;47. Had your portrait painted&lt;br /&gt;48. Gone deep sea fishing&lt;br /&gt;49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person&lt;br /&gt;50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;51. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gone scuba diving or snorkeling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kissed in the rain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Played in the mud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;54. Gone to a drive-in theater&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;55. Been in a movie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56. Visited the Great Wall of China&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;57. Started a business&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;58. Taken a martial arts class&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59. Visited Russia&lt;br /&gt;60. Served at a soup kitchen&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sold Girl Scout Cookies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;62. Gone whale watching&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Got flowers for no reason&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma&lt;br /&gt;65. Gone sky diving&lt;br /&gt;66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp&lt;br /&gt;67. Bounced a check [not on purpose]&lt;br /&gt;68. Flown in a helicopter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;69. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Saved a favorite childhood toy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;71. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eaten Caviar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;72. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pieced a quilt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73. Stood in Times Square&lt;br /&gt;74. Toured the Everglades&lt;br /&gt;75. Been fired from a job&lt;br /&gt;76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;77. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Broken a bone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; [As long as dislocation counts]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;78. Been on a speeding motorcycle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80. Published a book&lt;br /&gt;81. Visited the Vatican&lt;br /&gt;82. Bought a brand new car&lt;br /&gt;83. Walked in Jerusalem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;84. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Had your picture in the newspaper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;85. Read the entire Bible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;86. Visited the White House&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;88. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Had chickenpox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89. Saved someone’s life&lt;br /&gt;90. Sat on a jury&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;91. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Met someone famous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;92. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joined a book club&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;93. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lost a loved one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;94. Had a baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;95. Seen the Alamo in person&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;97. Been involved in a law suit&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;98. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Owned a cell phone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;99. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Been stung by a bee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who wants to put this on their blog is welcome!  TAG!  You're it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-675962582717787619?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/675962582717787619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=675962582717787619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/675962582717787619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/675962582717787619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-first-tag.html' title='My first tag!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-2812761105613656279</id><published>2008-11-25T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T14:06:54.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet nothings.</title><content type='html'>One thing that James does really well is compliment me.  A bad hair day wont go by without him telling me how beautiful I look.  No matter how bloated and gross I may feel, he always finds some way to get me smiling self-consciously at his random little snippets of affection.  But sometimes, he says things that are truly just sweet, and so out of the blue that I felt I should highlight the most recent one. (Those of you at my ring ceremony should remember that one although I can't for the life of me remember what he said).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night James and I were on the phone because he had duty, which just means that he has to stay the night on the boat.  I was explaining a conversation I had been having with one of my friends here in Washington.  In her situation, I felt that her husband needs to experience life without her for a few days, so that he can learn to appreciate the small things that she does for him.  Like cook dinner, do laundry, clean the house etc.  So, thinking that I ought to see if that logic was accurate I asked James:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well.. I just think that she should go visit her sister for a weekend or something.  Just to let him experience life without her.  I mean, if she isn't going to talk to him about it.  What do you think honey?  Does it make you appreciate me when we are apart?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His answer came really quickly, no thought, just speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, sweetheart, you can't compare me to normal guys... I'm whipped."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may have been his smooth talker just waltzing in to sweep me off my feet.  But it just came out so easily, not rehearsed, and so honest!  I couldn't even talk for a few minutes!  I can only hope that those sort of answers don't wear out anytime soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-2812761105613656279?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/2812761105613656279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=2812761105613656279' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/2812761105613656279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/2812761105613656279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/11/sweet-nothings.html' title='Sweet nothings.'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-3852237124572818787</id><published>2008-11-24T10:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T10:36:58.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The ramblings of a half-asleep sailor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SSr0O6GBb_I/AAAAAAAAACI/2IvAP8YyHfs/s1600-h/Jay+-+M16.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 280px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SSr0O6GBb_I/AAAAAAAAACI/2IvAP8YyHfs/s320/Jay+-+M16.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272294850740449266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, James and I were in bed when quite suddenly I realize that he is awake and scrounging in pitch blackness along his side of the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey.. What are you doing?"  I inquire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm looking for the... uhhmm... the... ya know.. the.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to be helpful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The remote?  Your phone?  Your phone is over here honey."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No.  the light..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What light?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know... the light that goes outside."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm seriously confused and he is just as determined as ever to find it.  The shuffling continues as I try to work my mind around his request, before finally just giving up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sweetheart, I have no idea what you are talking about... Do you want my phone so you can see with it's light?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah.  Let me see it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hand over my phone.  He holds it for a grand total of half a second and then hands it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not it.  I need the lights that are like christmas lights.. but not quite."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok.  He -has- to be asleep right?  Because, how does that make sense?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Baby...  You do realize that you are making absolutely no sense right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh.. he didn't like that.  His reply comes out very defensively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I -am- making sense.  I guess they just don't use them this time of year."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*muffledgiggles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh.." --snickersnicker-- "so, they don't have them this time of year huh?  that's too bad..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh of defeat from his side of the bed*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah... it is..."  silence follows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey?  Honey?  James?"  No use.  He is totally asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to wait until this morning to get the -real- answer.  What was he looking for?  A flashlight.  Yes folks, they don't use them this time of year, so be careful going out late at night.  You may have to take the Christmas lights instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-3852237124572818787?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/3852237124572818787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=3852237124572818787' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/3852237124572818787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/3852237124572818787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/11/ramblings-of-half-asleep-sailor.html' title='The ramblings of a half-asleep sailor...'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SSr0O6GBb_I/AAAAAAAAACI/2IvAP8YyHfs/s72-c/Jay+-+M16.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-3347475155664918255</id><published>2008-11-23T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T10:14:02.674-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YUM!</title><content type='html'>Just some recipes from tonight.  In case anyone was wondering!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BBQ Sauce&lt;/span&gt; (covers four servings of ribs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 cup Ketchup&lt;br /&gt;1/4 water&lt;br /&gt;1/4 Apple cider vinegar&lt;br /&gt;1/2 brown sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/4 honey&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 tablespoons Yellow Mustard&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tablespoon onion salt&lt;br /&gt;1 tablespoon garlic powder&lt;br /&gt;1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper&lt;br /&gt;1 tablespoon Italian seasoning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Combine all ingredients and cook on low heat.  Stir occasionally and simmer for 20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cheesy Garlic Mashed Potatoes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;(for two)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 peeled and diced red skinned potatoes&lt;br /&gt;Garlic salt to taste&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup cheese (any kind)&lt;br /&gt;1/4 Milk&lt;br /&gt;3 tablespoons butter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really easy. Dice and boil the potatoes until they are soft of course.  But instead of just adding regular salt to the boiling water, add garlic salt!  This makes the potatoes absorb the flavors of the garlic AND the salt.  When potatoes are soft, strain them and then add more garlic salt (and regular salt if you have achieved your desired amount of garlic). Mash in butter and milk until all is combined and then add in the cheese.  Be careful not to add the cheese in too early or else it is hard to mash because it's so sticky! I just use whatever I have on hand.  In my last batch I threw in mexican three cheese blend and then added a bit of mozzarella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-3347475155664918255?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/3347475155664918255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=3347475155664918255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/3347475155664918255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/3347475155664918255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/11/yum.html' title='YUM!'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-4346600153931061639</id><published>2008-11-23T17:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T19:11:39.775-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A housewife's guide to making disaster--- I mean, dinner.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SSobRenZl_I/AAAAAAAAACA/PsCFP6Fey8o/s1600-h/dinner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SSobRenZl_I/AAAAAAAAACA/PsCFP6Fey8o/s320/dinner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272056300880631794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry this is long.  It should be entertaining)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James pulled into port last monday, and I've been trying relatively hard to make sure that we are having regular healthy meals with sides and main dishes and the whole shebang.  Well, today was no exception, except for instead of another experiment with spaghetti squash, broccoli and cauliflower, I went  back to good ol' meat and potatoes. Our menu consisted of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BBQ Pork ribs with homemade BBQ sauce&lt;br /&gt;Cheesy garlic mashed potatoes&lt;br /&gt;Green beans&lt;br /&gt;Crescent rolls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for dessert:&lt;br /&gt;Blackberry turnovers with whipped cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds yummy eh?  I thought so too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been planning this menu for the past few days, though there were a few additions that I changed tonight. Mainly I found a package of crescent rolls that I had to get rid of, so the rolls and the turnovers were a last minute thing.  And the mashed potatoes were supposed to be normal until James requested cheese and garlic, and honestly, who could argue with that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a good morning, I went to church, and led the music in Sacrament meeting (it's my calling) and then went to classes, only remembering halfway through that I completely forgot to pull the ribs out of the freezer!  After fretting through another two hours I finally made it home and went into quick defrost mode with the ribs... which didn't seem to like that idea.  It's ok... dinner could be later!  Snack first!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 minutes later and it was myself against the ribs round two.  turns out that if you continuously run luke-warm water over a package of shrinkwrapped ribs they thaw really quickly!  Score for me!  With Dinner back on... though about 2 hours later than I was intending everything was going according to plan.  The ribs were boiling contently in their pot and I was cleaning the kitchen, only to find out that my sink is broken!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elbow bend in the sink without the disposal was completely detached.  That would explain that mold I found under my cutting board under the sink hmm?  Luckily for me the slice still allowed most of the water to travel into the correct pipe, so I was only getting enough water to make everything under the sink damp.  Mold anyone?  As if Washington needed any more help producing the stuff.  After fully detoxing under my sink, I had James make the call to our housing maintenance staff... where I heard him say the dreaded words:  "Oh.. it's not really an emergency, we just wont use that sink until you guys get out here."  As I frantically wave and tell him it IS an emergency, he politely ignores me and accepts a work number.  Estimated time of fixture?  29 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That wont do.  I'll call maintenance tomorrow and explain the situation in better detail.  For now, if you are keeping score I'm down to one sink and contently boiling ribs.  Time for the BBQ sauce!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a recipe online for St Louis bbq sauce.  I actually had all of the ingredients so I was pretty excited about trying it out.  The recipe made a ton, so I halved it and followed the directions to a tee.  After simmering 20 minutes I take a swipe with my finger for a little taste (it smelled amazing).  Bleh!  Awful... WAY too sour?  sweet?  I don't know what was wrong with it.. but it was horrible!  I thought so anyway, but I figured it would get a second opinion and took my failed sauce into James and his friend Sonne.  Both confirmed that it was bad, but Sonne (bless his heart and everything about him) came in and added a few things here and there until somehow I ended up with some of the best BBQ sauce I've ever had!  (I'll put the recipe at the bottom, it was -really- good.  Which... James JUST informed me that Sonne has a bachelors degree in culinary arts.  Wow... totally never cooking for him again. Heh heh.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the BBQ sauce bubbling beside the ribs I turned attention to the crescents, and though they were really old, they seemed well enough so I rolled them up and popped them into the oven as I got the ribs on the broiler pan to braze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the potatoes!  Now, I like to consider myself somewhat of an expert when it comes to potatoes.  I have mashed potatoes down to a science and peeling and cutting them are a breeze.  only this time I peeled my red potatoes only to find that beneath the skin they had tons of little yellow spots.  Chicken pocks?  on my potatoes?  Looked like it!  Shave shave shave... still spots!  I smelled them... and they SMELLED fine.  But I had never seen tiny yellow spots on my potatoes!  Sooo, I chucked those out and moved on to another bunch of potatoes.. still spots, but this time they shaved off.  Thank goodness!  I had James cut them for me so I could pull out rolls that were (of course)  burning on the bottom but still doughy on top.  Ugh.  Whatever, they tasted fine.  The ribs were doing well and the potatoes were boiling and I still had extra crescent dough... Turnover time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm lucky enough to have a bazillion wild blackberry bushes around my housing development.  So I had stocked up on bags and bags of frozen blackberries.  Yum!  They would be perfect for turnovers. A little butter on the dough, some cinnamon, sugar, and blackberries and they were rolled up and slid into the oven.  Mmmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was at this point that dinner was pretty much finished and I breathed a sigh of relief and warmed up the greenbeans in the microwave (they were left overs from the night before).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the food after all was said and done was wonderful.  The ribs fell right off the bone, the Cheesy garlic mashed potatoes were some of my best work, and the rolls... though a little odd looking were very buttery and yummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had thought that all my cooking woes were over.  But I had forgotten about the turnovers!  I pulled them out of the oven, and thank goodness they were done perfectly!  Score!  they came right out of the pan and sat on paper plates to cool while I cleaned up most of dinner.  Filled up the sink to clean the big pots... and remembered that it was broken.  *sigh* Out came a bowl to catch the water (though I was seriously tempted to let it spill all over in my cupboard only so that I could call maintenance and claim that it WAS an emergency).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the water in the sink drained and properly disposed of in the OTHER sink, I loaded my empty dishwasher, since James had just unloaded it (have I mentioned that I love him?).  I grabbed all of the pots and pans and loaded them in.  Rib pot: Check!  Potato pot: Check! Roll pan: Check! Turnover pan:  Che---OUCH!!!  Still hot.  Like... right out of the oven hot.  I dropped my glass pan onto the stove, ran to the sink and turned on the cold water so that I could soothe my scalded palm and fingers.  Fighting back tears only to notice that I had turned on the water in the broken sink...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I have the rest of the night to enjoy with my cute husband.  What is a little mishap in the kitchen if not a good story?  For the record, my hand is fine, if a bit red around the edges.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-4346600153931061639?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/4346600153931061639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=4346600153931061639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4346600153931061639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4346600153931061639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/11/housewifes-guide-to-making-disaster-i.html' title='A housewife&apos;s guide to making disaster--- I mean, dinner.'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SSobRenZl_I/AAAAAAAAACA/PsCFP6Fey8o/s72-c/dinner.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-3953033365162058875</id><published>2008-11-10T09:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T10:25:59.133-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Does this shirt make me look fat?</title><content type='html'>I was scrounging through some old photos on this computer and I found several from when I was in high school, and it really struck me how thin I was!  I remember when I was actually -in- high school thinking that I was huge!  I needed to lose weight!  Everything made me look so fat!  It just tells you how very different everyones perspective is.  No wonder I had boyfriends coming out of my ears.  Besides, what high school girl wouldn't kill for curves like those?  Ah... the good ol' days.  It seems I'll have to really get to losing weight now since I know how good I CAN look right?  Though... what was I thinking wearing a part down the middle?  Thank you Talara for breaking me of that habit.  I also included a picture from elementary school just because I was adorable.  I really was.  Enjoy! Oh... and ignore the boy?  He's just in the picture because if I cut him out I think it would look horribly silly with his arm over my shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRhrvKzLIlI/AAAAAAAAABo/JnS6jghT7jQ/s1600-h/Junior.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRhrvKzLIlI/AAAAAAAAABo/JnS6jghT7jQ/s320/Junior.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267078222306812498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRhsHdstLtI/AAAAAAAAABw/k0_5f1zPBMY/s1600-h/full+valentines.bmp"&gt;This was the first day of Junior year.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( don't know why the text is blue..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRhsHdstLtI/AAAAAAAAABw/k0_5f1zPBMY/s1600-h/full+valentines.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRhsHdstLtI/AAAAAAAAABw/k0_5f1zPBMY/s320/full+valentines.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267078639696817874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the Valentines dance my Junior year.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRhsOUZAyaI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fnvopaeX3IQ/s1600-h/blueeyes.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 166px; height: 184px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRhsOUZAyaI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fnvopaeX3IQ/s320/blueeyes.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267078757457381794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think I was in second grade for this picture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-3953033365162058875?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/3953033365162058875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=3953033365162058875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/3953033365162058875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/3953033365162058875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/11/does-this-shirt-make-me-look-fat.html' title='Does this shirt make me look fat?'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRhrvKzLIlI/AAAAAAAAABo/JnS6jghT7jQ/s72-c/Junior.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-4774174447595597262</id><published>2008-11-09T13:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T14:00:59.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letters...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRddgVbVNcI/AAAAAAAAAA8/m_AeXb8e9Sc/s1600-h/The+kiss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 345px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRddgVbVNcI/AAAAAAAAAA8/m_AeXb8e9Sc/s320/The+kiss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266781099322062274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It seems as if my husband and my relationship has been based solely on our ability to communicate with eachother over long distances.  First we met online.  He was located in Groton, Conneticut and I was in Provo, Utah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the time came to actually meet in person (no matter how skeptical I was) he promptly moved to Washington!  Anyone who can think that a move to Washington is a good step for the relationship is seriously disturbed.  Now we weren't a 10 hour flight from eachother, we were a 14 hour drive, or as the case generally was, a $400, 2 hour flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The majority of our engagement was spent in silence. Well, on his part anyway. For he left not a month after we got engaged to go do unspeakable things in his submarine.  I was left to worry.  Communication changed from hours of phone calls to 10 small notes of 30 words or less over a five and a half month period.  That was what -he- got anyway.  I got a 10 word note passed along by someone who will remain unnamed.  I suppose for someone who thrives on verbal communication it is strange to be forced to condense messages into what is most important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got married only a month and a half after he returned and our marriage has gone without a hitch.  Though in spite of the fact that I now live in Washington, it seems that our conversations continue to take place where we met.  Online.  He leaves underway and I stalk my e-mail.  As much as I might complain, the distance of our relationship truly makes me appreciate those moments that I have with him.  The precious amounts of verbal communication are used mostly on what is the most important of all: that we love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago during a stake conference for church the speaker emphasized the importance of telling the ones that mean most to you that you love them.  He related stories of couples who hadn't heard those words for 30 years or more!  They challenged us to really work hard to remember to never forget to tell your spouse that you love them.  I couldn't help but laugh as James and I got into our car and started discussing the topic and we both got into a match to see if we could count just the number of times that we said I love you before we got to church.  I can't remember what we concluded, but it was over 10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the point of this blog is just to emphasize that it doesn't matter how you talk or communicate with those you love, just make sure that you treasure every moment you have with them.  As someone who has to share the love of my life with the rest of the world, I can't stress enough the importance of communication and the little moments, the smiles, the tears and the company of your best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-4774174447595597262?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/4774174447595597262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=4774174447595597262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4774174447595597262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4774174447595597262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/11/letters.html' title='Letters...'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRddgVbVNcI/AAAAAAAAAA8/m_AeXb8e9Sc/s72-c/The+kiss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8863226548563698904.post-4112208251362309836</id><published>2008-11-08T08:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T09:19:02.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Greetings from the bandwagon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRXHMW8aQ8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/nQdQMxXrrnc/s1600-h/dog-and-computer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 126px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRXHMW8aQ8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/nQdQMxXrrnc/s320/dog-and-computer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266334354410980290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for the past year it seems that this concept of 'blogging' has really taken off.  I figured it would be a phase, but once I realized that everyone, including the neighbors dog, had their own blog, I decided that I may as well join the bandwagon.  Not that I have anything against blogging.  In fact, everyone's blogs are absolutely adorable.  Some are funny, some are just down right amazing, and some are the sorts of things that give such great information or ideas that you find yourself checking them over and over and over just to see if they were updated in the ten minutes that you looked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I'm not going to kid myself, I am horrible at updating these sorts of things.  I can never find pictures worthy of comment, that is if I remember the camera at all.  And if I -do- find pictures, what fun is there if I can't think of snappy witty remarks about the clothes I was wearing, or the silly smile on James's face?  I suppose I'm just going to have to get over my fear of being the worst blogger ever and realize that if people don't like my blog, then they don't have to read it.  This is my own little corner, and I can say whatever I want!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8863226548563698904-4112208251362309836?l=mooneytwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/feeds/4112208251362309836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8863226548563698904&amp;postID=4112208251362309836' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4112208251362309836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8863226548563698904/posts/default/4112208251362309836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mooneytwo.blogspot.com/2008/11/greetings-from-bandwagon.html' title='Greetings from the bandwagon'/><author><name>Karabear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514116550999154606</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/S6eKF3Shc8I/AAAAAAAAALw/z8fQGfv8sTE/S220/IMG_2153.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T-EqbUsJStA/SRXHMW8aQ8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/nQdQMxXrrnc/s72-c/dog-and-computer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
