tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20695100521833958922024-03-14T10:27:33.823-04:00Monkeys & WindexThe personal diary of a former housewifeCJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.comBlogger186125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-19671147753667128862018-08-28T10:05:00.001-04:002018-08-28T10:05:36.486-04:00<div dir="auto">"It had been nice to be so sure of myself. Now that I didn't have that compass anymore, I'd never felt so lost."</div><div dir="auto"><br></div><div dir="auto">Truer words have never been written...</div> CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-68974842390936960292018-08-22T16:16:00.001-04:002018-08-22T16:40:26.513-04:00<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Change: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Verb (used without object);<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To become different.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To become altered or modified.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To become transformed or converted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Noun;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The act or fact of changing; fact of being
changed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A variation or deviation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Change. Life changes. People change. Circumstances change.
Moods change. Ways of thinking change…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So many things about life change, it’s inevitable. Most of
the time we are not aware of the changes that occur in our day to day lives.
Kids grow up, we get grey hairs (yes, these two things go hand in hand). The
foods we like to eat, the activities we participate in. The way we do things
changes with time, whether it’s from gaining knowledge or from just us changing
as we grow physically and emotionally.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Without change life would become stagnate. Change in
general is not always a bad thing. It can bring wonderful things with it. Joy
and happiness come with change. As do pain and sadness sometimes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Even though things and life around us are constantly changing
we as humans tend to become secure in our lives. We do our daily tasks because
that’s what needs to be done. We go to work or stay home and care for our
families because that’s our roll in life. We go out with friends, take family
vacations because that’s what we do for fun. Most of us in the world today live
our lives from day to day and take comfort in our futures of our lives. Sure,
we know the kids will grow up and leave the nest someday, but it’s not always
on our minds. We know that we will eventually grow old and possibly feeble. We
know that someday we will have to retire or change our careers to better fit
our physical selves. It’s called life. It’s just how it is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We take life’s changes with a grain of salt most of the
time. Sometimes life’s changes are less like a grain of salt and more like an iceberg.
You can’t just brush it off and move on. You can’t just pick yourself up and
say, “Oh well.”, and then move on with the changes. Sometimes the changes that
happen in your life sideline you. You’re so lost with what has happened in your
life that you just don’t know where to go, what to do, let alone what to say.
You don’t have that security in your future because you don’t know or
understand how the future can possibly be in any way how you had always
imagined it to be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When life hits you with these iceberg sized changes that
hurt you to the point of numbness you turn to your loved ones to help you
through. To pick you up and point you in the right direction. Sometimes you don’t
have that. You don’t have the support you thought you would have. You feel
alone like you’ve never felt alone before. You’re scared because you just don’t
know what to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When this happens, we must remember that there is always
someone out there who can help us. Who can support us and help us to think
straight again. Who will be our friend and tell us it’s okay to hurt, even if it
feels like we are dying. Society, as a whole, are a lonely bunch of people and
we need to remember that we are only alone if we allow ourselves to be alone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Back to change. Everyone who knows me knows that I have
had life hit me with a huge change that blessed me and devastated me. When I
lost my daughter at the age of 2 I didn’t know how my life could go on (that’s
the devastation part). When I began to heal from the loss of my daughter I began
to realize how blessed I was. In the two years she was alive she was our family’s
shining star. Once she was gone and the devastation of her loss began to move
the background of my emotions (I say this because the devastation is always
there, I have just learned how to move forward and function at life again) I
realized how in those two short years I learned so much from my daughter. I
learned what was important in life. I learned not to sweat the small stuff. I
learned how to love unconditionally in a way I hadn’t quite grasped consciously
with the first two daughters. I learned how to forgive and to move forward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It took a while for our lives, as a family, to balance
back out. I was able to live again. This horrible change in my life did not
stop me permanently. I was able to overcome the grief and live again. I took
this change and tried to learn from it. I tried to become a better person. Not only
to others but to myself. As time went on I became secure in my life and my
future again…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Change. It’s something that is inevitable. It always
happens. Again, I have been hit with a change in my life that has altered my
future. A change that has floored me yet again. As I begin to process this
change I have come to a few conclusions. I am not alone. I might feel extremely
lonely at times, but I know I am not alone. I have my Peeps, and I must tell
you, my Peeps are some of the best Peeps a woman could have. Another conclusion
I have come to is that no matter how uncertain and scary my future may look
right now, I know without a doubt that I will survive. Not only will I survive,
I will thrive. With this change in my life I must believe in ME. If I don’t,
there is no hope for a happy future. I must not doubt my self-worth. I may not
always like myself, physically and or emotionally, but I know deep down that I
am worth it. I deserve the best. I have given my everything to the life that I have
led. Have I been perfect, no. I am only human. I must believe that this change
in my life has happened for a reason. It may be a reason that I don’t quite
understand yet, but a reason none the less. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Change happens, and we are powerless to stop it. However,
we do have the power to move forward from change in any way we wish to. I am
choosing to move forward in a positive way. I am choosing to use this change to
grow as a woman. Instead of letting this change dictate the person I become
afterward I am dictating how and who I am going to be after this change.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Change. Good or bad we can’t control it sometimes, but we
can control how it changes us. Just remember that you always have peeps out
there who love you and care about you. If you don’t think you have any peeps,
just let me know. I’ll be your peep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "gadugi" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">-Corey Canning<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-87210107176142308112017-09-13T06:27:00.000-04:002017-09-13T06:27:35.441-04:00Did you know?Residents of Hawaii outlive residents of all other states. Louisianans are the most prone in the United States to die an early death.<br />
<br />
I'm thinking it may have something to do with alligators.... just saying.CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-85160973710577735972016-10-18T13:35:00.001-04:002016-10-18T13:35:17.947-04:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDhI6iaQVuxcPSbXGNhSGdTaFSLYcwyhhOBVPghsKBtKV-AXo0Ez_Yn4aqui8zGCBRwEJPJpw_cDH-3vBBCz2PgUDr4ox9blx4BMlIDj3qDvNfK2juPfbehNQDlr8_IeWytFUI5ip2_UC/s1600/IMG_3911-717947.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDhI6iaQVuxcPSbXGNhSGdTaFSLYcwyhhOBVPghsKBtKV-AXo0Ez_Yn4aqui8zGCBRwEJPJpw_cDH-3vBBCz2PgUDr4ox9blx4BMlIDj3qDvNfK2juPfbehNQDlr8_IeWytFUI5ip2_UC/s320/IMG_3911-717947.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6342859750139305842" /></a></p>Halloween camping shenanigans!! #lovethesegirls CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-80582478996578637782016-05-21T18:03:00.001-04:002016-05-21T18:03:51.843-04:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44jnR6U36WoBlKYjBlHXohwnAC37rF2xpB8h2Df0rT93qnxyvRBu3oTpmGZDMjCbC6Uc8IS_MGeZ4ilTyAuZCeh_60S-v0tPoltAmoaKKBuNLBmt_3h8Ls8bi9L0GWwK_kMLRjpqDwsdb/s1600/IMG_2450-731845.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44jnR6U36WoBlKYjBlHXohwnAC37rF2xpB8h2Df0rT93qnxyvRBu3oTpmGZDMjCbC6Uc8IS_MGeZ4ilTyAuZCeh_60S-v0tPoltAmoaKKBuNLBmt_3h8Ls8bi9L0GWwK_kMLRjpqDwsdb/s320/IMG_2450-731845.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6287266187343685666" /></a></p><div><br></div><div>So proud of my Kiera today. She completed her first 5K color run. In her words, #awesome<span></span></div> CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-28311617594199259772016-05-20T14:07:00.001-04:002016-05-20T14:07:13.997-04:00YES!!<div>"Breathless, my head ringing, I could only gape. I'm not going to say it was love at first sight. No, it was more like oh, hell-yes-please, I'll have that. With a helping of right-the-fuck-now on the side."</div><div><br></div><div>Excerpt From: Callihan, Kristen. "The Hook Up." </div> CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-14545829972400101802016-04-11T17:22:00.001-04:002016-04-21T13:18:50.159-04:00<div class="mobile-photo">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUKJ_nqB2W6Ee0Ld2go4TDXtC6Vw9NGuuiieHrxdWTL0M3P3ZP6YTVNe3v7XRnb8eB8pQuaw-_FJpCpN5LqSP-wCaKwY54Y8jh5M93HQ9ik675VuUKTfE79oly361n37FFx5rs8H66tUf1/s1600/IMG_2113-752652.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6272412138171041330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUKJ_nqB2W6Ee0Ld2go4TDXtC6Vw9NGuuiieHrxdWTL0M3P3ZP6YTVNe3v7XRnb8eB8pQuaw-_FJpCpN5LqSP-wCaKwY54Y8jh5M93HQ9ik675VuUKTfE79oly361n37FFx5rs8H66tUf1/s640/IMG_2113-752652.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
Fuck you wild turkey... Fuck you<br />
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CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-70675128566681021272016-03-28T14:02:00.000-04:002016-04-21T13:21:26.012-04:00How Rude....!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Rude:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">1. discourteous or impolite, especially
in a deliberate way: <i>a rude reply.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">2. without culture, learning, or refinement:
<i>rude, illiterate peasants.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">3. rough in manners or behavior; unmannerly;
uncouth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">4. rough, harsh, or ungentle: <i>rude
hands.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">5. roughly wrought, built, or formed;
of a crude construction or kind: <i>a rude cottage.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">6. not properly or fully developed; raw;
unevolved: <i>a rude first stage of development.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">7. harsh to the ear: <i>rude sounds.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">8. without artistic elegance; of a primitive
simplicity: <i>a rude design.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">9. violent or tempestuous, as the waves.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">10.robust, sturdy, or vigorous: <i>rude
strength.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">11. approximate or tentative: <i>a rude
first calculation of costs.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 16.5pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I might
be many things, but rude is not one of them. At least I try my best to never be
rude. It happens once and a while, hell, I’m only human. If I am rude I apologize
as soon as I realize it. I feel bad about it and I worry that the person I was
rude to (or anyone within hearing distance) will think me a horrid person. Who
want’s that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the most part I don’t
really care what people think of me. I am who I am. However I don’t want people
to think I have no manners or any kind of class about me. I may not be high class
but I do have some class, at least enough not to be rude to someone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Sometimes
people perceive rudeness when rudeness wasn’t really present. Texting and
social media are full of miscommunications when dealing with emotions. Why? It’s
because emotion does not always transmit through the written word. While
reading a book the scene is set, the mood of the moment has been set, therefore
a small line of dialog does transmit emotion. However, when texting or commenting
on a social media status the emotion your feeling as you comment does not
always transmit properly. Usually it’s the person reading it that determines
the emotion, or tone of the comment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
the person is not in a good mood the emotion, or tone, of the comment is
generally not very good. If they are in a good mindset the tone tends to be of
a better, nicer, quality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just
basic psychology of the mind and how everyone sees the same things differently.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Usually
when someone writes something on a social media post of mine that seems a bit
rude to me, I try to think of who said it. I try to think of this persons
personality and try imagine how the comment would have sounded had it been said
aloud to me face to face. Most of the time it helps me to realize it was just
poor wording that need that little bit human emotion, or tone, to make it not sound
rude. Having said that, sometimes there are comments that no matter how you
imagine them, or who you imagine saying them, they are a rude comment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes a comment is just plain and simply
rude. It doesn’t matter how you say it, or write it, it’s RUDE.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Normally,
someone being rude to me doesn’t bother me much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my mind I’m all, “HOW RUDE!”, and then I
let it go. It happens. People err, we are after all only human.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t call them out on the rude comment
because then I’m just being rude myself. I don’t want that!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes the rude comment, the one that can’t
be anything but rude, hurts. Sometimes the person it comes from is what makes
it hurt just that little bit more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I’ve had
a lot of rude things said to me over the years and only a couple of them have
stuck with me. Mostly because who made the comment. Until recently, it’s been
quite a while since one of those comments stuck with me. This comment wasn’t
anything serious, or even important, really. It was just rude. Taking into
consideration the person who made the comment is probably what makes it bother
me so much. They generally aren’t a rude person, but it's not the first time they've been rude to me over the years. For them to just be blatantly
rude to me kind of bothers me. Who am I kidding? It bothers the crap out of me.
It’s not the first time I’ve felt slighted by this person, and because of who
they are I’ve always just let it go and moved on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time I don’t think I can let it go. It’s
not the rude comment I can’t let go of. It’s the fact that it probably won’t be
the last time it happens with this person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> In my
post about burning bridges, I mentioned how sometimes we have to take a path we
don’t want to, but we know we need to. I think I’m at one of those moments. Not
a burning of the bridge moment, more of a fork in the road moment. I can go back and
take the other fork if I so choose to. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Small rude comments or slights against me add
up with time when it’s from the same person. I don’t like feeling this hurt,
small as it is. I’m not going to go out of my way for this person anymore. I’m
not cutting them out of my life. Rude comments and feeling slighted by this
person multiple times aside, I still love them and wish them well. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just can’t justify making time for them
anymore. If I see them, I see them. If I don’t, I don’t. I’m setting them on
the outside of my happiness bubble. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Moral of
the story people, don’t be rude. It’s not nice, and if repeatedly done it makes
you look bad. Think before you speak, and especially before you hit the post
button. Read what you wrote and ask yourself how you would take it if you were
the recipient of this comment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Okay,
rant over. Thank you for sticking with me if you read this all the way through.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">XOXO<br />
CoreyJo</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-17746362136263949102016-03-10T14:03:00.001-05:002016-03-10T14:03:54.706-05:00I get so many "empty" (not a hang up or telemarketer recording... Just nothing) phone calls at work I'm starting think I have a voice stalker.... o.O<br><br> CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-20627006954562529102016-02-03T16:45:00.000-05:002016-02-03T16:45:19.717-05:00May the bridges you burn lighten your way...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b> "May the bridges you burn lighten your way, and the whisky you drink warm your bones"</b></span></div>
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Growing up I was always told, "Don't burn your bridges, you never know when you might need to cross the river again.". While sage advice, I have to say that there are some bridges that need to be burned. Burning bridges isn't something to be taken lightly, but sometimes it's the only thing left to do. </div>
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Taking the fist step onto a bridge is not always easy. Some bridges we cross with ease, sometimes not realizing until much later, if ever, that we have even crossed one. Some are exciting and crossed with exuberance, while others are dreaded and fretted about yet necessary.</div>
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The ones that are the scariest are the ones that pop up suddenly. Appearing and seeming higher and longer than the rest. And no matter how long we look for another way across, this bridge is the only way to proceed forward. To <i>not</i> cross would mean that you are stuck somewhere you don't particularly care to be. Somewhere in which you cannot trust, where bonds have been broken. It's a cold and dark place that is swirling with pain and discourse. In order for you to proceed forward in your journey to a better place, you must cross this bridge. There is no other option. Once you cross this bridge, in order for the darkness to not reach you again, and cause you more pain, you must burn this bridge.</div>
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Knowing that burning this bridge is the only choice you have, doesn't make it easy. That doesn't mean that you don't have a heavy heart when you light that match, or when you turn your back to take the first step away. It's doesn't mean that you will instantly be free of the pain you incurred. It will take time to heal and time to process the fact that this path can no longer be traveled or revisited. A shard of sadness may always prick you when you think of the good times you had before you burned the bridge, but only momentarily. Your heart knows that this was for the better, and to move forward and be happy in this harsh world in which we live, it was necessary.</div>
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When I saw this photo it made perfect sense. That even though we have to burn a bridge here or there, we shouldn't stay and dwell over the ashes. We should use the light from this burning bridge to help light the way to our next place of happiness, to keep moving forward. Use the memory and pain of this burning bridge to help guide you in future adventures.</div>
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I suppose the whiskey is just a bonus!</div>
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XOXO</div>
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CoreyJo</div>
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CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-58606611797167901662015-11-20T09:32:00.001-05:002015-11-20T09:32:54.214-05:00Today's Mantra<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiu0LgVF9D9Zm8s1EFK01kqx3Yru3NxVfexlP_QSGItfwmYXsVdTinsW-1k3yxPZbmTZKYedTf4bk1QOg-0Z2FXXFQ3R3Uz4N5pwhJJ6GlWOym_t7d2Wsw0GznNqmsYhwsaG404rVS6gPQ/s1600/IMG_1208-774215.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiu0LgVF9D9Zm8s1EFK01kqx3Yru3NxVfexlP_QSGItfwmYXsVdTinsW-1k3yxPZbmTZKYedTf4bk1QOg-0Z2FXXFQ3R3Uz4N5pwhJJ6GlWOym_t7d2Wsw0GznNqmsYhwsaG404rVS6gPQ/s320/IMG_1208-774215.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6219241385445876514" /></a></p> CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-62379840995489263362015-10-21T23:43:00.000-04:002015-10-21T23:54:16.312-04:00Like A Mac Truck!!<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong>BAM!</strong></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Just like a mac truck to the face.</span> </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"> Today was Maggie Alice's Birthday!</span></div>
<br />
She would have been 8 years old today. Wow! I seriously can't believe that it's been 8 years! I know that I don't post much these days, at all really. It's been 5 months or so since my last posting. For that I do apologize. However, I will tell you that those 5 months have not been spent just hanging out at home, or shopping with my friends, like the last couple of my 10 years as a stay at home mom were spent.<br />
<br />
Towards the end of the last school year I started working again. CRAZY! I know! I always knew I would get another job someday. I just never really thought much about it. Then one day my friend needed help at the store she manages. That's how I started working one day a week. Not bad of an entry back into the work force. Then the next month it was 2 days a week. Then 3, and now it's 4 days a week! (Just so you know, I got bamboozled into the 3rd & 4th days.) I'm seriously fighting a 5th day! I'm just not ready to give up my Fridays! <br />
<br />
With work taking up so much of my week now I find it hard to find the time to do everything. Just getting dinner on the table at a decent hour is oftentimes a challenge. Thanks to the Sailor the laundry doesn't get too out of control. The midgets help too. FYI the tall midget is taller than me now.... maybe I should re-dub her Sasquatch. Anyways it has now become a family effort to keep the house in running order.<br />
<br />
On top of working 4 days a week and trying to run the household somewhat smoothly, I've just had a super busy month. Between camping, multiple birthdays, day trips out of state, appointments, side jobs and preparing for our annual party, Maggie's birthday almost snuck up on me without notice. Most days I have no concept of what day of the month it is. I realized on Monday what the actual date was.<br />
<br />
I was doing well the last couple of days. A few melancholy moments here and there, but otherwise I was doing okay. I woke up this morning fully aware of what today was. I was doing great...... Until about half way to work. Out of no where my emotions mutinied against me. They hit me like a mac truck. SMACK! Right in the damn face. There I was driving to work, jamming out to the radio and all of the sudden I burst into tears! WTF! Seriously, I was fine, I blinked, and then it was Armageddon on my face. Total destruction. It lasted for less than a mile and then it was just over. Almost like someone flipped a switch. It wouldn't have been so bad had I not been on my way to work, and had I not just spent 10 minutes putting my face on!!!!!! Gah!! Thankfully I had napkins and a few minutes to refresh myself before I actually had to be face to face with someone. <br />
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The rest of the day was okay I suppose. I kept forgetting things and almost drenched myself washing the mop at work. It wasn't until after I got home just in time to send the Sailor off to work that I got really sad. I felt bad that he had to go into work and sad that I had to be home without him. It sucks. Plain and simple. What do you do though? Nothing really. I tried to focus on the girls and that helped for a bit. Then I was messaging with a friend. Our conversation helped me to not focus on the sad parts about today.. I thank you very much my friend.<br />
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Now I'm finishing this post, which I started much earlier today. Even though I didn't do much physically today I am completely exhausted. That being said I'm going to bed and hopefully these damn Mac truck drivers steer clear of me for a while.<br />
<br />
Love & Huggs<br />
CJCJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-61209302815796810462015-05-14T16:00:00.001-04:002015-05-14T16:00:51.789-04:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1DURkpXydLmoXcSSLYgGyVuquz6H_PUJos-pUtAtmlvQ21jvEBugiGQQG0WmTeTor-xxQC-isskGKbATO8HmuIP7e94H5u4VhsY6IfZDack1Jb_7yC_f3nzd8B30IsUNVG7ZPWbmxYp0N/s1600/IMG_9210-751789.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1DURkpXydLmoXcSSLYgGyVuquz6H_PUJos-pUtAtmlvQ21jvEBugiGQQG0WmTeTor-xxQC-isskGKbATO8HmuIP7e94H5u4VhsY6IfZDack1Jb_7yC_f3nzd8B30IsUNVG7ZPWbmxYp0N/s320/IMG_9210-751789.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6148819717688503714" /></a></p>Seeing my Sailor Man down town brought a smile to my face! ❤️ CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-58648544298553070322015-05-05T22:52:00.001-04:002015-05-05T22:52:03.739-04:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixoz-Vsa9GVJ2EYYJJC1NNbvKfMEk6EqftQAEpC4_hrOjkglEmkpI25qNr4N9WZTvxevHXy7vWpzCAX5rx49EY5D0WcpZ4MIIA7Snesy7Uj7qZSjORgVbtMXRCOBzw5i6pzAGjHSVGTyR/s1600/IMG_9120-723739.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixoz-Vsa9GVJ2EYYJJC1NNbvKfMEk6EqftQAEpC4_hrOjkglEmkpI25qNr4N9WZTvxevHXy7vWpzCAX5rx49EY5D0WcpZ4MIIA7Snesy7Uj7qZSjORgVbtMXRCOBzw5i6pzAGjHSVGTyR/s320/IMG_9120-723739.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6145585915222486450" /></a></p>A big hit at the class party. So I'm told. ;) CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-80274149036171204622015-04-24T18:08:00.001-04:002015-04-24T18:08:08.285-04:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-J3kqqpQYP7Nw7sC__I3Md5bfpbNaDFVKlGRNRmJT0Uf0QvASahYgdBYbPhKIXxCkYGJdDLKJNZ0k0AIyo0gNk_I8fVEj4_adsvy0y3smBS3HRZ5yq-IQwGgwWqiWR8s3NSP8oBWazRCB/s1600/IMG_8934-788286.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-J3kqqpQYP7Nw7sC__I3Md5bfpbNaDFVKlGRNRmJT0Uf0QvASahYgdBYbPhKIXxCkYGJdDLKJNZ0k0AIyo0gNk_I8fVEj4_adsvy0y3smBS3HRZ5yq-IQwGgwWqiWR8s3NSP8oBWazRCB/s320/IMG_8934-788286.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6141430810486909474" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjsR9IgQalIuloRtq-gjUNyfeZWbhDJVsHJ9AMtrzXQ_z-B1ycJmRFU3ThH6lUHcEGf7Krthyphenhyphen7c50bKzQ5Kbbe5ZKLwK2Sp0APMz6SF4bEp8tMoLrQ5aw1Tw1FzMnGlsoVuxrJcRii6nA/s1600/IMG_8941-791779.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjsR9IgQalIuloRtq-gjUNyfeZWbhDJVsHJ9AMtrzXQ_z-B1ycJmRFU3ThH6lUHcEGf7Krthyphenhyphen7c50bKzQ5Kbbe5ZKLwK2Sp0APMz6SF4bEp8tMoLrQ5aw1Tw1FzMnGlsoVuxrJcRii6nA/s320/IMG_8941-791779.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6141430827207441522" /></a></p>A new look for spring. :) CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-74411352153464339282015-04-09T13:55:00.001-04:002015-04-09T13:55:47.814-04:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxhgxHjnBD_CzJBa9K5yQnvItAtmo_Bmh6rV-9cwJva20lxI67NUMQdc4NEksa5Qso1sdJZUs1Yu-JQKzkJCM9EApB0wuVWXIwL3uRm5kpNKlegCT42VG9qT4A1Fm-Jrb5w7StkVu1SYTl/s1600/IMG_8781-747815.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxhgxHjnBD_CzJBa9K5yQnvItAtmo_Bmh6rV-9cwJva20lxI67NUMQdc4NEksa5Qso1sdJZUs1Yu-JQKzkJCM9EApB0wuVWXIwL3uRm5kpNKlegCT42VG9qT4A1Fm-Jrb5w7StkVu1SYTl/s320/IMG_8781-747815.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6135799507583990018" /></a></p>Better late than never! Happy 14th Birthday Lily!!! ❤️ CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-81464057722288197592015-04-09T13:52:00.001-04:002015-04-09T13:52:28.925-04:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mR0NEC8QcMp5BJucDQ-qsqDWrR0-ipwMNCVihsV4o96iFlHHsJjVhy30nbsD3y1X_PUvV6J2N1laQAGzpnmoOAO_rHSLRUldCEkurXCKtepaJT9UPASYW8TtDVCDW-7ZoVB1VwXgz2z0/s1600/IMG_8789-748926.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mR0NEC8QcMp5BJucDQ-qsqDWrR0-ipwMNCVihsV4o96iFlHHsJjVhy30nbsD3y1X_PUvV6J2N1laQAGzpnmoOAO_rHSLRUldCEkurXCKtepaJT9UPASYW8TtDVCDW-7ZoVB1VwXgz2z0/s320/IMG_8789-748926.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6135798653612964850" /></a></p>Texting with my 14 year old... LOL! CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-21584968605988805072015-03-17T06:49:00.001-04:002015-03-17T06:49:14.165-04:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NumKW1XpZtARwVUc_XGuxT4qPKPS6gtFxZXY0C-0TxBgowGphd92kveXa12WF0C1bRz_hYUzDIlFucG5IcBKc4Ted5-M3MJCbLfKlLPvhSt4qhisJSsJlBlazIzY9o2JA_DSauN5_vwY/s1600/IMG_8332-754165.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NumKW1XpZtARwVUc_XGuxT4qPKPS6gtFxZXY0C-0TxBgowGphd92kveXa12WF0C1bRz_hYUzDIlFucG5IcBKc4Ted5-M3MJCbLfKlLPvhSt4qhisJSsJlBlazIzY9o2JA_DSauN5_vwY/s320/IMG_8332-754165.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6127154620414592770" /></a></p>Happy 10th Birthday Kiera!! <3 CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-58274704889897149682014-12-22T22:29:00.001-05:002014-12-22T22:29:58.277-05:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2JsUR8BYKcz-UAiUE7Ylfa0bTIOx0p3OEIqxd16sYozH5MmSgzIYQbL2y9sqHoTBo75d7XeLxtkZmdMQQCvf4ZvtXJVBbkT5WabSDUArO_VZwbICkYaw6k6URhhiP16wjbvIYgXqtIxO/s1600/IMG_6863-798278.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2JsUR8BYKcz-UAiUE7Ylfa0bTIOx0p3OEIqxd16sYozH5MmSgzIYQbL2y9sqHoTBo75d7XeLxtkZmdMQQCvf4ZvtXJVBbkT5WabSDUArO_VZwbICkYaw6k6URhhiP16wjbvIYgXqtIxO/s320/IMG_6863-798278.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6095870275008573010" /></a></p>A new look for the coming new year. CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-56502107421449599482014-12-16T02:48:00.001-05:002014-12-16T02:48:17.745-05:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47BOsl3gpVIfHEN60uhAXfw3YhM4V78AYvckoAPuu2jfzryUoTLjTclpGHhdbmLjRvYlENYuBnAoEMbay5tZI1GmQuYHTeZNyxEnCRxYnm73xFrsWwPJZQQ_BarSZPK8yG00dCwwFhc8C/s1600/IMG_6695-797745.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi47BOsl3gpVIfHEN60uhAXfw3YhM4V78AYvckoAPuu2jfzryUoTLjTclpGHhdbmLjRvYlENYuBnAoEMbay5tZI1GmQuYHTeZNyxEnCRxYnm73xFrsWwPJZQQ_BarSZPK8yG00dCwwFhc8C/s320/IMG_6695-797745.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6093339247291749618" /></a></p> CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-32257432598253851632014-12-16T02:47:00.001-05:002014-12-16T02:47:58.611-05:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVjquzWYlaiaop9o6ejvg-rnW2c5W6myY8CuEQQG-YaBXUSuNrTFwDiGw3fsb0jwr1Dt1Lui4e2EpVjTH_pMR46BRruSDWFllSRE_sfZrXbhUZhhPRZDAQkjKCICqiqw0y3MZAMnnbUPO/s1600/IMG_6696-778612.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVjquzWYlaiaop9o6ejvg-rnW2c5W6myY8CuEQQG-YaBXUSuNrTFwDiGw3fsb0jwr1Dt1Lui4e2EpVjTH_pMR46BRruSDWFllSRE_sfZrXbhUZhhPRZDAQkjKCICqiqw0y3MZAMnnbUPO/s320/IMG_6696-778612.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6093339184130423666" /></a></p> CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-70727274892839311432014-12-09T00:39:00.001-05:002014-12-09T00:41:59.561-05:00Tis the Season<div class="mobile-photo">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnt-U8JBH0_ZxkwYlY1_nsz0eiCURv88XjEWF-m-qMR_WYnBRzTZwD6_U9KM30NMgxpTRcecltusUQT1NWct9ZfkrVnj1WSVw7tBuLmsk-LzaYNgOw4p5KcMRO61deCfDIP4esOgBJw6L/s1600/IMG_6538-784672.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnt-U8JBH0_ZxkwYlY1_nsz0eiCURv88XjEWF-m-qMR_WYnBRzTZwD6_U9KM30NMgxpTRcecltusUQT1NWct9ZfkrVnj1WSVw7tBuLmsk-LzaYNgOw4p5KcMRO61deCfDIP4esOgBJw6L/s320/IMG_6538-784672.JPG" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6090708521229880866" width="200" /></a></div>
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I love vintage ads and art. </div>
CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-23714399338845973182014-12-08T19:53:00.001-05:002014-12-08T20:41:31.006-05:00Confession Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-IIeYJALvUvmg3PV2vyjjzPc3xkrOrtd6bAvefB_wWecDnyc-0mepTOpzbu9n1HPEf8BfD9NQ83s-bZtU9A9tWt3RF7LPYBEUnUgwDiakpbNjk_hESjHMJZ5kXAlCuVCdRLW5Gmp5Czd/s1600/1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-IIeYJALvUvmg3PV2vyjjzPc3xkrOrtd6bAvefB_wWecDnyc-0mepTOpzbu9n1HPEf8BfD9NQ83s-bZtU9A9tWt3RF7LPYBEUnUgwDiakpbNjk_hESjHMJZ5kXAlCuVCdRLW5Gmp5Czd/s1600/1.png" /></a></div>
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Ordering Christmas gifts for my girls online makes me all happy and giddy for many reasons.<br />
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~ I don't have to deal with annoying people while hunting down the best gifts.<br />
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~ I can compare prices without using a tank of gas going from store to store, only to return to the first store to purchase the gift. </div>
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~ I don't have to drive as much in bad weather. Nor do I have to transport tons of packages from store to car, then from car to house. I have a tendency to fall in the winter months (snow or no snow). Carrying packages only unbalances me more. </div>
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~ I love getting packages in the mail, even if they aren't for me (sad, I know).</div>
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~ last, but not least, I love the looks on the girls faces when I get packages and tell them it's a Christmas gift for one of them. Listening to them beg for me to just tell them who it's for is wonderful. So far they haven't come up with any good bribes! LOL</div>
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Don't get me wrong, going out and shopping for Christmas gifts is very fun. It's just that it becomes daunting after a while. Being able to do the majority of the shopping online really helps in allowing my Christmas cheer to stay at a high level when I do go out in public during the winter holidays. </div>
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Good luck to all who are out there shopping! Be safe and trust no-one! Especially that one shopper who sidles up close to you, and lingers, as you're checking out the last of an item on the shelf. They are just waiting for you to set it down to compare it to the other model so they can snatch it. True story!</div>
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Happy Holidays & Merry Christmas my friends. </div>
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Huggs</div>
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CJ </div>
CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-24816330056719044052014-12-02T08:27:00.001-05:002014-12-02T08:27:32.896-05:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnq2Ec6sKc5fx_SdZ-TA8pntQ0nXxPY5KFkVTHXeO8rYKUIwxYQd8hdRFYuLJFxM_fa78ZiXpRU5UfqF4JTULwb41ocBYhA5JwDxoOvDo7EJ-CAw6wBZVa27_1HsMJRzwmQ2vqzwIcZCqZ/s1600/IMG_6409-752896.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnq2Ec6sKc5fx_SdZ-TA8pntQ0nXxPY5KFkVTHXeO8rYKUIwxYQd8hdRFYuLJFxM_fa78ZiXpRU5UfqF4JTULwb41ocBYhA5JwDxoOvDo7EJ-CAw6wBZVa27_1HsMJRzwmQ2vqzwIcZCqZ/s320/IMG_6409-752896.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6088231478534875522" /></a></p>My first Christmas package of the season!!! All the way from Quebec!! I LOVE IT!!<div><br></div><div>OWL-LELUIA!! </div> CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2069510052183395892.post-78128405552631034002014-11-30T11:09:00.001-05:002014-11-30T11:09:12.464-05:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEMPAx6cHRk6bfd4eO0MrExCWCNbLnjpTRbVxNdPSEMTK1LOxPsG1sNHX_CRWefdIq4e4utiBFxq-9VuMk5HlR45GeyhSLeQ04nmmr8xL4S9a_l2Eqnu701r0ZislNAG6xmUzLtwlYi6Yc/s1600/IMG_6363-752465.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEMPAx6cHRk6bfd4eO0MrExCWCNbLnjpTRbVxNdPSEMTK1LOxPsG1sNHX_CRWefdIq4e4utiBFxq-9VuMk5HlR45GeyhSLeQ04nmmr8xL4S9a_l2Eqnu701r0ZislNAG6xmUzLtwlYi6Yc/s320/IMG_6363-752465.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6087530968914210034" /></a></p>Not a game for the meek or faint of heart. So much fun last night. <br><br> CJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09649872611162520863noreply@blogger.com2