<?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-26122438</id><updated>2011-07-07T17:21:52.615-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lollies Follies</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>331</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5172633041163431909</id><published>2009-07-03T21:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T21:49:17.865-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying to Find Time...</title><content type='html'>...to adequately express what a great weekend we had in MN (ck! Whiskeymarie! Hulles!). There must be some in the next few days. Will get on that pronto...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-5172633041163431909?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5172633041163431909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5172633041163431909' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5172633041163431909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5172633041163431909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/07/trying-to-find-time.html' title='Trying to Find Time...'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-863193011354352508</id><published>2009-05-12T20:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T20:45:52.126-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Early Life In 20 Frames</title><content type='html'>go &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=111240&amp;amp;id=733881653&amp;amp;l=4bdf172c1c"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-863193011354352508?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/863193011354352508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=863193011354352508' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/863193011354352508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/863193011354352508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-life-in-15-frames.html' title='My Early Life In 20 Frames'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4720538649293065813</id><published>2009-05-10T20:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T20:17:43.050-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Trek</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I got no card, no flowers, no gift for me Mums this year, but I did make her a movie. I showed it to her while we were driving her to the Miami airport so she could meet my dad in Halifax. Made her cry...success!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can see it too here, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GVMiq4GSnG4"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GVMiq4GSnG4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And p to the s: I am a full-fledged new Star Trek fan. The movie was great and we loved the fresh start story line. Of course we saw it at the drive-in, so my feelings toward it are totally tainted. The drive-in is the cloaked bombdiggity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4720538649293065813?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4720538649293065813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4720538649293065813' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4720538649293065813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4720538649293065813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/05/star-trek.html' title='Star Trek'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4218353956263822722</id><published>2009-04-22T21:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T21:50:34.997-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Courtesy Of My Guy</title><content type='html'>Two words for tonight's Idol:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Disco Dinosaurs"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4218353956263822722?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4218353956263822722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4218353956263822722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4218353956263822722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4218353956263822722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/04/courtesy-of-my-guy.html' title='Courtesy Of My Guy'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4697465232179714545</id><published>2009-04-19T08:14:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T08:24:08.312-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mangia!</title><content type='html'>There's a homeless guy that has been bugging me for a while now.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He hangs out at my local grocery store (Publix Greenwise - I love you) with his dirty clothes, his hungry look and shopping cart full of useless crap. He is obviously homeless - he camps out in the evenings under the bushes near the entrance of the driveway down the hill to the store. And this is why he bugs me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He won't take any of the food I offer him! It makes me crazy. "Would you like me to buy you a sandwich?" I asked the first time I saw him. He motioned no and waved me away. I was dumbfounded - it's clear he could use some food, there's nothing but broken pieces of flotsam and jetsam in his cart. Then I asked him if he wanted the granola bar I was holding out of my car window (I keep a stash in my glove compartment for just such occasions). Nope. Another day, an apple? Naw. Yeesh! And he never hounds anyone for cash. He just hangs out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe he goes regularly to the shelter for meals. I hope so anyway. His possibly grumbly tummy weighs heavy on my mind every time I pick up stuff for dinner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4697465232179714545?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4697465232179714545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4697465232179714545' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4697465232179714545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4697465232179714545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/04/mangia.html' title='Mangia!'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2426808176186510622</id><published>2009-04-06T21:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T21:18:47.923-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have Lost The Will To Blog</title><content type='html'>There is seriously nothing exciting happening to me lately - not even a good little aside. Except that two people I know rather personally have been accused of child molestation. Well, one is accused and I know he has to be guilty, and the other has been accused, tried, found guity and put away for ten years. What makes one bend that way? And how do I keep all of them away from my son? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who is crawling P to the S! Well, army-crawling in any case. Who knew one could feel so proud about an accomplishment you didn't even make? It's great...but now I have to start childproofing the house. Do we really need a toilet lock? I just know that's going to cause a catastrophe on a "I can't get my pants down fast enough" day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-2426808176186510622?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2426808176186510622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2426808176186510622' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2426808176186510622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2426808176186510622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-have-lost-will-to-blog.html' title='I Have Lost The Will To Blog'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-6026141129760243344</id><published>2009-03-19T21:18:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T21:31:18.085-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For The Love Of Bacon</title><content type='html'>Seriously...is everything better with bacon? In a word, yes. Dry pork has been the bane lately, and I was sick of it, so I found a recipe that guaranteed moist "the other white meat." And it worked! All you have to do is slather it in bacon. Comfort and cozy the pig in more pig. Enfold, blanket and otherwise smother your loin in strips of fatty goodness and voila! your pork is happy, juicy and begging to be eaten at three in the morning (I can actually already hear it calling).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P to the S - add a bit of dried cherry, mustard and parsley to the layering process and you have several slices of heaven, ready to be fought to the death over at the dinner table. My mom tried to stab my dad with her fork when he stole her last piece of caramelly fruit stuff. "You can't have my cherry!" she protested.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And yes folks, without a missing a beat, my dad said, "I already got your cherry years ago."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 308px; height: 638px;" src="http://www.cherrycommunications.com/cherry_dark_stem.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-6026141129760243344?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/6026141129760243344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=6026141129760243344' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6026141129760243344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6026141129760243344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/03/for-love-of-bacon.html' title='For The Love Of Bacon'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2415123342537033473</id><published>2009-02-22T21:08:00.027-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T23:55:47.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Baloney Has  a First Name...It's O.S.C.A.R.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Naw&lt;/span&gt;...not really. It's actually pretty good so far. I like the more intimate atmosphere, the set looks fab and I thought Hugh &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Jackman's&lt;/span&gt; opening was loser-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; to start (cause I generally loathe Broadway antics), but it really grew on me. You can only pull that shit off if you give 140%, and he sure did it, so kudos Mr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Jackman&lt;/span&gt;. PS - my husband still thinks you're gay.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://images.teamsugar.com/files/upl2/2/20652/08_2009/899b3b84acc1676f_Picture_5.xlarger.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tilda, Tilda, Tilda. How much do I love thee? You are one hot lady, Lady. Like my guy, I too believe I could sit and listen to you recite the phonebook. You are your own woman and that is to be admired. Say hi to your husband for me...oh, and your boyfriend too. Kisses. PS - love the crazy eyes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 232px; height: 380px;" src="http://a.oscar.go.com/media/2009/images/galleries/redcarpet/81st/81st_CruzP_02.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Could Penelope have been wearing a more cream puffy dress? No. I wanted to lick it. Ray thought Goldie looked stretched in all the wrong places. I thought she looks like she always looked. Ray also thought Angelica Huston looked like Elvira, rethought that to Elvira's aging mother and the escalated that to Elvira's aging mother's vagina.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Was it me or did &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Aniston&lt;/span&gt; make nice in the direction of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Brangelina&lt;/span&gt; for a hot smiling moment? Of course the producers had to get in a quick shot of Angie while Jen was speaking. Nice &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;fakery&lt;/span&gt; on the smile Ms. Jolie. You can't fool us. We know you're an actress. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 232px; height: 380px;" src="http://a.oscar.go.com/media/2009/images/galleries/redcarpet/81st/81st_ParkerS_01.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Sarica&lt;/span&gt; Jessica Parker needs to go back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;blonde&lt;/span&gt;. I also want her mole to make a comeback &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ala&lt;/span&gt; Mickey Rourke. Her boobs can stay. Daniel Craig? You. Are. Hot. Especially when you smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am I bitching too much? Sounds like it. I am actually enjoying the show. I may have had too much wine however. On with it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey Twilight guy. You played a vampire in the movie...you can let the look go now. And I will express to all who care to listen right now: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Coldplay&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; romance, take a whiff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Hasidic&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Meth&lt;/span&gt; Lab! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Bahahha&lt;/span&gt;! Natalie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Portman&lt;/span&gt; and Joaquin Stiller carried that off brilliantly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 232px; height: 380px;" src="http://a.oscar.go.com/media/2009/images/galleries/redcarpet/81st/81st_BielJ_02.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Awwww&lt;/span&gt;, Jessica &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Biel&lt;/span&gt;. The hair, draggy and dirty as it looked, was the shining light of your look. Your dress looked like, well, you ran out of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Beverly&lt;/span&gt; Hills &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Wiltshire&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;super&lt;/span&gt; late for the show and only had time to wrap yourself in the satin bedsheets on the drive over. Girlfriend...an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;oversized&lt;/span&gt; bow does not an Oscar gown make. Go home and find your real dress immediately. You will not be let into any after party looking like that. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;JT&lt;/span&gt; - really, how could you let her out like that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James Franco watching James Franco making out with Milk? Priceless. Seth &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Rogan&lt;/span&gt; pronouncing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Spielzeugland&lt;/span&gt;? Priceless. The short film winner's speech being longer than his short film? Priceless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Liked the opening Hugh, but a second Broadway-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;esque&lt;/span&gt; number is a second one too many. Especially when it involves &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Beyonce's&lt;/span&gt; thunder thighs painted in lipstick red doing movie medleys. *Sigh* I liked this Oscar show. Please note the past tense. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if the Oscars are on a budget this year, how are they paying all these union dancers? Honestly, this is the worst thing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Baz&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Luhrmann&lt;/span&gt; has ever done. Stick to musicals on film &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Bazzie&lt;/span&gt;, or you will end up with an Oscar/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Razzie&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Phhhttttt&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay I like it again. The supporting actress and actor presentations are very cool and personal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 232px; height: 380px;" src="http://a.oscar.go.com/media/2009/images/galleries/redcarpet/81st/81st_ShannonM_01.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently, Christopher &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Walken&lt;/span&gt; thought it would be cool to emulate Michael Shannon's hair style. Not really your look Chris, feel free to tuck the locks back behind your ears...makes you look a little less crazy (if that's at all possible).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;. Heath.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;OMFG&lt;/span&gt;. Is Bill &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; wearing a rubber latex tuxedo?!? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another priceless moment? The documentary winner saying he was going to make the shortest speech ever in Oscar history with his thrilled "Yes!" And then babbling on beautifully, performing a magic trick and balancing Oscar on his chin. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;An aside: All Oscar nominated &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;documentarians&lt;/span&gt; should wear running shoes, not heels or tux slippers, to the event so they can make the mad dash from the back of the theatre where they are so rudely relegated so that they may have more time to speak &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;at&lt;/span&gt; the podium than they do to actually &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;get&lt;/span&gt; to the podium.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As should the visual effects people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As should the poor breathless sound mixers. Jesus, it sounds like the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;Slumdog&lt;/span&gt; Millionaire sound dude ran all the way from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;Mumbai&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh sweet baby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;jeebus&lt;/span&gt;. They just announced an upcoming tribute to Jerry Lewis. If this involves singing and dancing in top hats again, I'm going to bed. You had me, you lost me, you had me, you lost me.  It just makes me tired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I take it back. Jerry knows how to make a lovely and perfectly short speech. And also knows when to ix-nay the op hat-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;tay&lt;/span&gt;. I wonder if he had to Judo chop Hugh backstage to preempt another dance number?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://images.teamsugar.com/files/upl2/2/20652/08_2009/d4fe1fa49256e448_aliciakeys.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously, Alicia. You have &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;got&lt;/span&gt; to cool it with the shading. You have a good nose. No improvement needed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Queen singing to the In Memoriam was a lovely touch. Unfortunately, my son was crying throughout the entire presentation so I have no idea who kicked it this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay..I'm back - not sure what I missed, but we are up to the Best Actress presentation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(I think I missed Sophia Loren...crap!), Shirley &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;MacLaine&lt;/span&gt;, Do-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;dah&lt;/span&gt; from last year, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;Halle&lt;/span&gt; and her incredible dress, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;ooop&lt;/span&gt;, nope,  I didn't miss Sophia. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;. She looks a little bit like too crispy bacon. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"&gt;Chica&lt;/span&gt; still has a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"&gt;kickin&lt;/span&gt;' body though. And Nicole I Have To Read My Lines &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"&gt;Kidman&lt;/span&gt;. So much for the personal message. Sorry Angie Jo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47"&gt;Guh&lt;/span&gt; - I thought Kate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"&gt;Winslet&lt;/span&gt; would have learned her lesson from her performance at the Golden Globes. We've had enough of your breathlessness. It just sounds phony now. Okay the whistle and wave to her dad was cute. Not sure about her hair...the fake bob is a bit weird. If you want it short, then just cut it short.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Actors &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49"&gt;DeNiro&lt;/span&gt;, Kingsley, Hopkins, Brody and Douglas. Now that is a stage &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"&gt;fulla&lt;/span&gt; man! Take Robert's sex appeal, Sir Ben's kind eyes, Anthony's accent, Adrian's nose (I like big ones - that's what she said!), and Michael's confidence and you have my perfect man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the best quotes of the night came from best actor Sean Penn, "I know how hard I make it to make you appreciate me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best Picture - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51"&gt;Slumdog&lt;/span&gt; Millionaire. My friend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52"&gt;Suj&lt;/span&gt; must be going &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53"&gt;apeshit&lt;/span&gt;. I must see this movie. Goodnight &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54"&gt;y'alls&lt;/span&gt;. It is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55"&gt;waaaay&lt;/span&gt; past my bedtime.&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/26122438-2415123342537033473?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2415123342537033473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2415123342537033473' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2415123342537033473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2415123342537033473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-baloney-has-first-nameits-oscar.html' title='My Baloney Has  a First Name...It&apos;s O.S.C.A.R.'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5400650393246377724</id><published>2009-02-17T12:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T20:24:29.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And What Is The Soup Of The Day?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Scene:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3:30 am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Darkened bedroom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sleeping baby in next room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Parents (one really angry...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;) awakened by booming bass and loud shouting next door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After much debate and wincing as we heard the baby stirring on the monitor, it was decided that I'd going to go next door and give them the "whatfor". Ray, in his sleepy state, thought I was going to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;call&lt;/span&gt; our neighbours, but when he heard me open the door he realized I was going to the backyard to ask them to turn the music down. Wrong on both counts. I was going into &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; backyard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, a few months ago, they lined their yard in ficus trees and their property on the left hand side butts right up to ours, so they have the "fencing right of way." This was not a big deal to us at all. It was better, in fact, as their foliage was much thicker than ours, enclosing our yard in way more privacy than our failing bougainvillea could manage. Out there in the night air, there was no way anyone could see me, much less hear me in our yard. So there I was, pajama-ed and barefoot, traipsing into next door's garden. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I barely got out "Guys... hey guys" when I remembered that the two men soaking in the patio hot tub, listening to Kanye West's Heartless at a level needed to hear over the bubbles and their own shouting, were cops. Cops without senses of humour. Cops with guns.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Holy crap I thought. Am I going to get a cap in my ass? From their perspective, I'm a shadow creeping around their bushes in the dead of night. The focused part of my brain p'shawed it and figured they'd have no gun belt next to them much less on their swim-shorted bodies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I had to get at least four "Guys... hey guys!" out before they even noticed me (couldn't hear me apparently - you know, over the bubbles, Kanye and their own moronic arguing). I crept closer and closer until I was not just skimming the outskirts of their property, but fully in their yard proper. Finally, with waving arms and many HELLOs!!, I'm seen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"HEY!" says one of the cops.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fuck, I thought, now I'm going to die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"HEY!" he says, "Come closer! We can't hear you!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No shit Sherlock.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hi guys," (nice as pie), "I was wondering if you could turn the music down. My baby is awake and won't go back to sleep with the bass. Would you mind lowering it?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To their credit, the non "HEY!" guy jumped out of the tub so fast and ran inside soaking wet to turn the music down. Asking if that was better (WTF?!! You mean you're not going to turn it &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;off&lt;/span&gt;? It's threefuckingthirty on a TUESDAY NIGHT!), they apologized all over themselves for getting a tired mom out of bed. I said it was fine and tiptoed out of their dewy lawn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back in bed, Ray asked me if I had been nice. Yep. I definitely got back in a better mood than I'd left because it was just so ridiculous...so much so that we started giggling about the whole situation, worrying about getting shot, what the news headline would have been, etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then he wanted details. So what was it like over there? What did I walk in on? We've been hotly debating whether these guys are gay so he thought this would be the clincher.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yeah, not gay, for sure," I said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Why?" asked Ray.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Umm, when I first walked in their yard? It was like Angry Cop Soup...not romantic at all."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-5400650393246377724?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5400650393246377724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5400650393246377724' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5400650393246377724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5400650393246377724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-what-is-soup-of-day.html' title='And What Is The Soup Of The Day?'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5256419142886761499</id><published>2009-02-02T21:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T21:29:13.108-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tick Doc Tick Doc</title><content type='html'>Doctors, doctors, doctors...such is life this week. Went to K's urologist this afternoon - turns out we had a two hour wait for him to tell us that nothing is wrong with the kid. In retrospect, good news, but I think we would have preferred not to have hung out in the medical office...FOREVER.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to fast to go to the GP tomorrow morning for my first physical in, oh I don't know, five years? Let me guess: You are anemic and have great blood pressure. Your cholesterol is fine but let's keep an eye on it because of your family history. That problem in your knee is swelling - I'd recommend an MRI - how do you feel about having a third scope on that? Pardon? Oh, uh-huh, that hair loss is because you just had a child. Don't worry it should grow back. And finally, we have no idea why you have had seven optical migraines in January. Could be a brain tumor. Have a nice day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then we have the dentist and there had better be good news with all this damn flossing I'm doing. I will lose all faith in dentistry if my receding gums haven't improved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you think I'll stop falling apart if I invest in a juicer, 'cause I'm willing to give up solids if it will work. What is Jack Lalanes secret? Wait...is he still alive?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-5256419142886761499?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5256419142886761499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5256419142886761499' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5256419142886761499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5256419142886761499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/02/tick-doc-tick-doc.html' title='Tick Doc Tick Doc'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8664649106383252599</id><published>2009-01-30T10:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T20:51:44.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously, How Do You Say "Get Your Sticky Mitts Off My Son's Soother?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8664649106383252599?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8664649106383252599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8664649106383252599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8664649106383252599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8664649106383252599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/01/seriously-how-do-you-say-get-off-my.html' title='Seriously, How Do You Say &quot;Get Your Sticky Mitts Off My Son&apos;s Soother?&quot;'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-9051938090298898619</id><published>2009-01-25T21:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T21:41:10.997-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meh</title><content type='html'>Not much of anything to say - I just needed to get the picture of my poor old dead kitten off the top of the page.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Looks like I needed a bit of blank space...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/26122438-9051938090298898619?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/9051938090298898619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=9051938090298898619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/9051938090298898619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/9051938090298898619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/01/meh.html' title='Meh'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-7025761802449065399</id><published>2009-01-18T17:31:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T17:53:40.219-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodnight Moon</title><content type='html'>Mom and I euthanized our cat Moon today. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SXOyX-3wMpI/AAAAAAAAAnE/Uof3qtdZjcU/s200/IMG_1641.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292770112174043794" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She was 18 years old and had deteriorated rapidly in the last few weeks. She used to be such a vibrant and beautiful cat.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:none; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SXOubvZIfYI/AAAAAAAAAmc/ynx2tm2JswU/s320/DSC00418.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292765778692046210" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She was vocal, proud, picky, loving, a drooler, a complainer, a barfer, but mostly just a big bag of jelly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SXOvHdTkFQI/AAAAAAAAAmk/lF2bhdjsDTY/s320/DSC01027.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292766529751094530" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes she looked like a douf...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SXOw7adcsQI/AAAAAAAAAms/Qj5dve9O76A/s200/DSC01149.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292768521852072194" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And sometimes she was just plain stunning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SXOxWynlHoI/AAAAAAAAAm0/9zBDxwXW1AA/s200/DSC01690.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292768992193486466" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Though I am glad she is not in pain anymore, and that my mom is not constantly worrying about her, I will miss Moonie cat pummeling the extra skin under my chin, drooling away in ecstasy, while we passed our afternoons snuggling each other on the couch, and our evenings spooning under the covers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-7025761802449065399?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/7025761802449065399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=7025761802449065399' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7025761802449065399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7025761802449065399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/01/goodnight-moon.html' title='Goodnight Moon'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SXOyX-3wMpI/AAAAAAAAAnE/Uof3qtdZjcU/s72-c/IMG_1641.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-3619755206933823503</id><published>2009-01-17T20:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T20:56:13.675-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bathroom Break (Up)</title><content type='html'>So I was looking for my 5-year-old nephew in my mom's house. I found the guest bathroom light on and the door cracked a bit.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I knocked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What?" said a small voice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I'm looking for Kiefer," I said, pushing the door in slightly catching sight of his little bod perched on the can.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Don't come in here!" he said urgently, "...I have a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;penis&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-3619755206933823503?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/3619755206933823503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=3619755206933823503' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3619755206933823503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3619755206933823503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/01/bathroom-break-up.html' title='Bathroom Break (Up)'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1921090281320922102</id><published>2009-01-10T22:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T22:12:02.211-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Things One Should Always Have In Bed</title><content type='html'>Despite the horrifically frequent night-time baby upping and downing that followed, last night's festivities were...well...awesome.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We found ourselves in bed with my Mac, a Dexter season 2 CD and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;wait for it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a huge whack of sliced ham.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was heaven!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-1921090281320922102?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1921090281320922102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1921090281320922102' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1921090281320922102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1921090281320922102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/01/three-things-one-should-always-have-in.html' title='Three Things One Should Always Have In Bed'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1389329570682637610</id><published>2009-01-08T20:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T20:36:03.374-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Even Know What To Do With Myself</title><content type='html'>Baby in bed by 7:30, husband out having a drink with a friend...HOLY CRAP!!!! Me time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've eaten dinner, fed the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;babens&lt;/span&gt; (cereal!), medicated the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;babens&lt;/span&gt; (ear infection), boobed the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;babens&lt;/span&gt; and cribbed the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;babens&lt;/span&gt;. I'm so excited to have some time to myself, I'm not really sure where to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I do the responsible stuff, like pay bills, clean my closet, organize the overflowing freezer?  Hells no. First order of business? Get to the magnifying mirror and have the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pickfest&lt;/span&gt; of a lifetime. I had so many unattended to black and whiteheads that I could barely keep my fingernails steady with anticipation. It was brilliant. Though my face is almost as swollen as a car accident victim's, it is mercifully clean of dirty blemishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yahoo! What next? BLOG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I really meant to get right to it, but my responsibility gene flared for a moment as I passed the dishwasher and laundry room.  Just a quick detour, that's all it was. A few dishes into the machine, one load of whites and we are on the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comfortably nestled in front of Brett &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Michaels&lt;/span&gt; and the Rock of Love Bus (that's right, I have a little trailer trash in me - I do live in Florida, remember?) I am ready to roll. I've got a bit of Top Chef catching up to do and then I am going to bed to catch up on that far away old friend known as REM...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and for your viewing pleasure: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SWapu2ueKtI/AAAAAAAAAl0/GE-_J-Tji9E/s320/IMG_1597.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289101434822732498" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-1389329570682637610?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1389329570682637610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1389329570682637610' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1389329570682637610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1389329570682637610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-dont-even-know-what-to-do-with-myself.html' title='I Don&apos;t Even Know What To Do With Myself'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SWapu2ueKtI/AAAAAAAAAl0/GE-_J-Tji9E/s72-c/IMG_1597.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5668479862412718215</id><published>2009-01-03T20:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T20:25:48.923-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Haven't Died</title><content type='html'>But how busy should these holidays be...for real? Family here, family there, oh hey I have guests and then more guests and a house to keep clean for the guests and underwear to wash and baby clothes to clean and toilets to wash and enough drinking glasses to keep clean, tree up, tree down, needles to sweep, umm, where did all the cookie crumbs come from? More guests? Wash the sheets! Strip the fridge of leftover leftovers...what's that smell? Toss some lemon down the garbage disposal, seriously, what's that smell? How did this wrapping paper get back here? Is this tinsel from &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; year?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we escaped. We went to South Beach last night with Mario and Daniel. It was great fun...only after the great Hotel Debacle of 2009 (yes, we had one already) was settled. Something about a broken door, no more rooms and having to transfer the boys to another property, blah blah blah. Once we got to The Delano for drinks and Emeril's for dinner, everything smoothed out just fine. The guys stayed on to go to Key West the next day and we drove home to rescue Mom and Dad from the babens. Actually he was a peach. It was we who needed rescuing in the middle of the night. Is it normal for a 5 month old to still wake every three hours in the night? Please, someone, tell me this will stop eventually. I need some REM sleep - desperately.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How is your 2009 so far? What are you looking forward to? Here are my few, not so well thought out tidbits:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;More sleep (HA!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meeting The Muse&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A crawling baby boy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Italy in late April with Grantie and Gruncle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grandma's 100 birthday in May in Cornwall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A walking baby boy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;K's first birthday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Brooklyn and Manhattan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Classes of some sort&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cK's wedding to The Muse&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faria's wedding&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Turning 40&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another baby...maybe?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/26122438-5668479862412718215?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5668479862412718215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5668479862412718215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5668479862412718215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5668479862412718215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-havent-died.html' title='I Haven&apos;t Died'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4047613617041531045</id><published>2008-12-11T10:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T10:19:37.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This Idea Hit Me At 5 AM</title><content type='html'>So there I was, blissfully awake after a stunning four hour jag of sleep, lounging in bed wondering what I should put on my next post. James Lipton and his &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bear-narrrd Peee-voh&lt;/span&gt; Actor's Studio survey jumped into my mind. You know it, "What is your favourite word? What is your favourite curse word?" etc.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's what I came up with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The 5 Senses Survey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is your ideal 5 senses situation? I'll give you a few of mine:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sight - Seeing Keegan's wide mouth bass smile in the mirror&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Smell - Huffing the top of his head&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sound - Hearing him laugh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Touch - Running my hand over his peach fuzz head&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Taste - Eating chocolate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sight - Just the sky&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Smell - Burning peat moss&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sound - Wind in the trees&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Touch - soft grass on my back (not the horrible Florida variety)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Taste - Eating chocolate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sight - The darkness of an audience&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Smell - Stage make-up (grease paint ideally)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sound - Philip Glass music&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Touch - My partners deft hands around my waist&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Taste - Just a little salty sweat at the corner of my mouth (well, it would be chocolate, but you can't really do that while you're performing...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What are a few of yours?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/26122438-4047613617041531045?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4047613617041531045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4047613617041531045' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4047613617041531045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4047613617041531045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/12/this-idea-hit-me-at-5-am.html' title='This Idea Hit Me At 5 AM'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4583710884617963701</id><published>2008-12-08T19:40:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:42.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Requests Fulfilled</title><content type='html'>So per your requests, here's your stuff:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3carnations - The Recipe for No Bake Reese's Peanut Butter Bars&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Make sure you have a functioning refrigerator&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Preheat your running shoes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take one cup of get yourself in your car&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Add enough gas to drive yourself to Target&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mix in one shopping basket, one cookie aisle, and some 20/20 vision (or glasses if needed)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Place Reese's Peanut Butter Bar cookie mix box in cart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whip yourself home and follow directions on the back of the box&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you want to be special and make it like I did, be sure to forget the masses of butter that you will need to add to the mixture and get that a day later but only when you realize you are late for the cookie party and are going to make yourself even later by searching two sketchy gas stations and a dive convenience store be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;fore you give in and go to Publix for the butter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Ebony WM (I loved that BTW!) - Santa pictures&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;K with his cousins, the other K (aka K1) and R.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/ST3BzeQOYiI/AAAAAAAAAlc/qp8D5lvawa4/s320/SC028105.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277587428386693666" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Chunk has enormous legs, no? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And how about those cheeks?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's as if Santa is saying, "Really lady, get this massive child off my lap...I can't feel my legs any more and my shift doesn't end for three hours."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/ST3Ce1_15jI/AAAAAAAAAlk/6KKUyWl4PJE/s320/SC028115.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277588173494806066" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The poor monkey looks so dazed. I think it was his nap time...NAP TIME?! What's that?!? Ha! You must be joking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually, and here's where I jinx myself, he's been much better in the last two or three days. Dare I say it? It looks like we might have a schedule a brewin'. You heard it here first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm off downstairs to fight My Guy over the last Peanut Butter Bar in the pan. (PS 3carnations, the best part of the cookie mix? The pan is &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;included in the box&lt;/span&gt;!!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4583710884617963701?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4583710884617963701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4583710884617963701' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4583710884617963701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4583710884617963701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/12/requests-fulfilled.html' title='Requests Fulfilled'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/ST3BzeQOYiI/AAAAAAAAAlc/qp8D5lvawa4/s72-c/SC028105.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-644354521030793508</id><published>2008-12-06T14:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T14:51:32.198-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Whole New Me</title><content type='html'>Listen up bitches! Mama got 5 straight hours of sleep last night and she's feeling like she could conquer the world. Not sure exactly how it happened but I'm taking it. Come to think of it, he had a HUGE crying jag in the car on the way back from taking Santa pictures at the mall. I wonder if he totally tired himself out.  I can't make my kid cry so hard he's practically choking every night can I? (or can I?!)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What else? Went to a Christmas Cookie Party this morning.  It was really nice to just hang with the chics and make gooey goodness. My creation was a no-bake version of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Holy crap! Do Over! They are yummy. We're off to a hockey game tonight with my little brother and his wife. Go Panthers, or whatever. If it's not about the Oilers in the 80s when they were in Edmonton, then I'm just there for the beer and the opportunity to wear a scarf and sweatshirt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh hey, guess who's awake. Gotta jet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-644354521030793508?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/644354521030793508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=644354521030793508' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/644354521030793508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/644354521030793508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/12/whole-new-me.html' title='A Whole New Me'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-6707182335517576897</id><published>2008-11-27T12:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T12:51:18.979-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks Dad!</title><content type='html'>Yeah, so since we are splitting up for Thanksgiving - Mom and Dad with Lex and Me and Ray with Sash and E (Elizabeth and Lexi's birthdays fell on Thanksgiving this year and cousins are visiting on Saturday for the big family dinner so it's okay), we invited The 'Rents over for Thanksgiving Breakfast - to be a tradition from here on in - hello. I said we'd have a light breakfast of fruit and cereal so as not to ruin the appetites needed for the later day pig-out. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well that idea completely fell through yesterday evening when neither Ray nor I felt like cooking dinner so we ordered Chinese. The steak was already marinating, however, so we decided since the huge meals the next day weren't happening until 3 and 4-ish that we'd go for the steak and eggs in the am.  Well, this prompted my dad to come to the realization that if we were having steak, we needed to have wine, time of day be damned.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Like It!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are pleasantly buzzed (no worries, I've already fed the wee'un) and nicely full. We're doing this again next year for sure - maybe even on Easter too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I just have to figure out how to make the stuffing and dessert for this afternoon without ruining it or my buzz...&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/26122438-6707182335517576897?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/6707182335517576897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=6707182335517576897' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6707182335517576897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6707182335517576897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanks-dad.html' title='Thanks Dad!'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-6687077262847134144</id><published>2008-11-17T20:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T20:37:18.705-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Fresh It's So Fresh, Exciting...So Exciting And New</title><content type='html'>Inspired by something I read on &lt;a href="http://www.whiskeymarie.com/2008/11/bargain-bin-that-is-my-brain.html"&gt;Whiskeymarie's &lt;/a&gt;latest post about newly sharpened pencils, I'd like to list the things that I find exhilarating when they are brand new/fresh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- blacktop tarmac&lt;br /&gt;- bed sheets&lt;br /&gt;- newly rolled out paint, of the wall, paper and nail variety&lt;br /&gt;- T-shirts&lt;br /&gt;- mascara wands&lt;br /&gt;- book spines&lt;br /&gt;- kitchen sponges&lt;br /&gt;- vacuumed carpet&lt;br /&gt;- the first squirt of toothpaste&lt;br /&gt;- a box of checks&lt;br /&gt;- a bar of soap&lt;br /&gt;- dollar bills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely not on this list?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- pointe shoes&lt;br /&gt;- jeans&lt;br /&gt;- gloves&lt;br /&gt;- cars (I abhor new car smell - makes me vomity)&lt;br /&gt;- shower liners (again, the plastic-y smell)&lt;br /&gt;- thongs (both foot and booty)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-6687077262847134144?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/6687077262847134144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=6687077262847134144' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6687077262847134144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6687077262847134144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-fresh-its-so-fresh-excitingso.html' title='It&apos;s Fresh It&apos;s So Fresh, Exciting...So Exciting And New'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8241970938109463736</id><published>2008-11-16T18:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T21:10:52.299-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It Was Good...But Maybe Not Worth Missing You All</title><content type='html'>Top Chef catch up was decent. I think we have a good cast this season - some really talented chefs. Happy to have my Wednesday night show back. Not that I can actually watch it on Wednesday nights...I'm usually unconscious by 8:00 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little man is all consuming - no new news there. He is stinkin' cute though, I have to give him that. Fat as ever, he is flirting with the idea of turning over from his back to his front (he can already turn from front to back), I mean, he is basically a round ball. The thighs on this child are epic. I guess this will mean more vigilant watching on the change table, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sash and E are in Costa Rica learning to surf for E's 40th birthday. I am super jealous. Apparently, they are woken every morning by Howler Monkeys charging across the roof of their walless house. Surfing ensues at 7:00 am followed by fishing excursions and perusing the green market in the afternoon. I think they are exploring a waterfall tomorrow. But hey - how can I be jealous? They are considering this their Honeymoon. I mean, c'mon, they've only been married for almost ten years...it's about time for one of those, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad are looking after their two sons while they are away for the week. They (the 'Rents) are looking a little bit ragged. We met the  four of them for chocolate chip pancakes at Ellie's 50s Diner this morning and Mom turned to me today with a look that said, "We're not as young as we used to be..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not as young as I used to be either. Or as well rested. Or as groomed (I can't remember the last time I shaved my legs).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or as stylish. I was watching Tim Gunn's Guide to Style today and it made me feel frumpy, worn and out of date. I changed my outfit three times before I left the house. Maybe I should send in an application. Maybe I will cut my hair and go o n a shopping spree once I have dropped these last ten pounds of baby weight. Or will I be waiting forever for that to happen? I finally got back into the 120s three days ago. My jeans fit (but can not be closed yet...I am using a hair elastic to hold the top button together). Jeans and maternity T-shirts. that's pretty much my uniform right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Aside: Don't go into Target on Sunday afternoon at 3-ish. It's mayhem.&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;'Tis the season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention the Coldplay concert? It was crazy good. My calves were wrecked for two days afterwards from standing, dancing, swaying and  jumping up and down (oh, and the step class I took that morning didn't help matters much). So versatile, so talented are those four men. Thoroughly enjoyed myself. Now, if I can catch Peter Gabriel in concert I can die happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet heaven! I'm eating a piece of cherry pie. I thought I didn't like pie all that much. I guess I was fooling myself, because this stuff is like crack under a crust! Yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone out there watching True Blood? I am both intrigued and annoyed by it. It's kind of like Lost to me. Enough with the questions already, I want some answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go back to my pie now.  I need to look for a spoon so I can cook some up and shoot it into my veins. I wonder what a cherry high is like...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8241970938109463736?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8241970938109463736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8241970938109463736' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8241970938109463736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8241970938109463736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/11/it-was-goodbut-maybe-not-worth-missing.html' title='It Was Good...But Maybe Not Worth Missing You All'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2619450874621825515</id><published>2008-11-15T21:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T21:04:43.319-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions, Decisions...</title><content type='html'>Hmmm, write a quick catch up post or catch up on Top Chef...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-2619450874621825515?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2619450874621825515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2619450874621825515' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2619450874621825515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2619450874621825515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/11/decisions-decisions.html' title='Decisions, Decisions...'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-7615260135894615208</id><published>2008-11-04T23:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T23:57:46.438-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baracktimus Prime</title><content type='html'>Never have I been so happy to have our baby wake us up in the night. The timing was perfect: he started stirring at a quarter to eleven, just in time for us to turn on the TV and see the most amazing news.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Barack Obama to be the next president of the United States of America.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am floored, relieved, amazed, privileged, awed, excited, and thrilled to be able to see this day. I feel like a collective weight has been lifted from this country's shoulders. This is the first day. We are going to get the respect back from the rest of the world that has been whittled away these past eight years. And Barack is going to get it for us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so pleased to be in NY during this election day. This borough is going absolutely ape-shit. Our apartment building was screaming and howling in delight, then it spilled out into the street, grew onto the block and I can still hear the celebration on what I am assuming is a very full Fulton Street and Flatbush Ave. If I didn't have a sleeping baby in the other room I'd be out there with them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a time. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What&lt;/span&gt; a time. A gay wedding on Friday and an African-American in the White House on Tuesday. We are back on track America. I am pleased to be living in the country again. Thank you for having me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-7615260135894615208?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/7615260135894615208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=7615260135894615208' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7615260135894615208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7615260135894615208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/11/baracktimus-prime.html' title='Baracktimus Prime'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1829320650238845294</id><published>2008-11-03T09:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T09:44:02.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mario and Daniel's Big Day</title><content type='html'>The wedding was a big hit - they were married in the city hall in Oakland and had the reception in their home the next day. It rained hard the entire time but we were not bothered. The cake was lovely and the grooms were in high form hilarity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A visual for you: I needed to nurse and their joint is tres small. I chose to use their bedroom which was doubling as the coat rack room, and tripling as the pass through to the bathroom (where, if you were a woman, you have to nestle your knees under the bathroom sink - seriously cramped space) (in fact I am now remembering a large woman who joked about resting her large breasts &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;on top&lt;/span&gt; of the sink to make herself fit...). Their bed is a la the princess and the pea - super high and pillowy - and is adorned with a crushed green velvet and red raw silk striped duvet cover. I was ensconced in this bed surrounded by matching pillows and pictures of the happy pair in varying states of age, including an Andy Warhol like print of the two of them in black and white. I'm telling you there's nothing like a gay couple's bedroom decor. Anyway, anyone who was in the kitchen (I had a surveying view through the doorway from my perch) or coming into the bedroom for either a coat drop off or a bathroom "drop off" saw me up high looking like the Queen of Sheba, nursing her princely King-to-be.  It was a terrific way to say hi to everyone at the party - kind of like a  weird receiving line!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-1829320650238845294?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1829320650238845294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1829320650238845294' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1829320650238845294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1829320650238845294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/11/mario-and-daniels-big-day_03.html' title='Mario and Daniel&apos;s Big Day'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1820843554470776743</id><published>2008-11-03T09:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T09:43:28.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mario and Daniel's Big Day</title><content type='html'>The wedding was a big hit - they were married in the city hall in Oakland and had the reception in their home the next day. It rained hard the entire time but we were not bothered. The cake was lovely and the grooms were in high form hilarity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A visual for you: I needed to nurse and their joint is tres small. I chose to use their bedroom which was doubling as the coat rack room, and tripling as the pass through to the bathroom (where, if you were a woman, you have to nestle your knees under the bathroom sink - seriously cramped space) (in fact I am now remembering a large woman who joked about resting her large breasts on top of the sink to make herself fit...). Their bed is a la the princess and the pea - super high and pillowy - and is adorned with a crushed green velvet and red raw silk striped duvet cover. I was ensconced in this bed surrounded by matching pillows and pictures of the happy pair in varying states of age, including an Andy Warhol like print of the two of them in black and white. I'm telling you there's nothing like a gay couple's bedroom decor. Anyway, anyone who was in the kitchen (I had a surveying view through the doorway from my perch) or coming into the bedroom for either a coat drop off or a bathroom "drop off" saw me up high looking like the Queen of Sheba, nursing her princely King-to-be.  It was a terrific way to say hi to everyone at the party - kind of like a  weird receiving line!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-1820843554470776743?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1820843554470776743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1820843554470776743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1820843554470776743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1820843554470776743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/11/mario-and-daniels-big-day.html' title='Mario and Daniel&apos;s Big Day'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5568029955598474391</id><published>2008-11-01T13:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T14:17:01.087-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Happy Gay Gay</title><content type='html'>So we are a part of history and I have in on film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We flew to San Francisco two days ago to attend the nuptials of my two very best gay friends in the the whole wide. Mario (my old dance partner at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OBC&lt;/span&gt;) and his life partner Daniel (aka Diva Dan, drag queen extraordinaire) got hitched at the court house in Oakland yesterday, just four days before a decision is to be rendered in California regarding gay marriage. Tied the knot just under the wire! Take that you conservative A-holes. The fact that there can even be a decision pending on whether or not the great state of Cali re-creates two classes systems, the have and have-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nots&lt;/span&gt; of marriage, is beyond me. I'm hoping that when our son is ten, twenty, or even fifty years old, he can look back at his time here and say, "Yeah, I went to one of the first gay weddings, I was there back when two men or women getting married was controversial. Weird right? I know...it was like slavery or the civil rights movement."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No on Prop 8!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we're off to their reception today. Should be a hoot. These two know how to do it right...their previous house parties have been beyond fabulous so I can't wait to see what they've done with this bash-to-be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that the cutest most coordinated baby of all time rolled over last Tuesday? Well he did and I also have that on film. Did I mention that he is also the fattest baby of all time? Come to think of it, maybe that's why he rolled over...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grand plans yesterday post wedding included driving to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Napa&lt;/span&gt; Valley, checking into The Harvest Inn (where we Honeymooned), visiting a few wineries, going to lunch at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Auberge&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Soliel&lt;/span&gt;, having dinner at Mustard's and returning the next morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did in fact make a reservation at Mustard's and we did in fact drive to the valley and we did in fact visit Silver Oak's new facility and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Plumpjack's&lt;/span&gt; tasting room. However, we did not: eat anywhere, reserve a room at the Inn, or stay any longer than two hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were so beat that there was a collective sigh when we decided to head home and crash at the hotel after eating a fast dinner down in the hotel restaurant. Best decision ever. We were in bed by 8 and up at 11 tending to the Greedy Eater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having an easy day today. Need to go on the search for a gay wedding card, you know, "To the happy Groom and Groom." Then we'll eat some lunch and get ready for the par-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tay&lt;/span&gt;. Packing has to be crushed in there somewhere as we are out of here at 4 am and on a plane to Brooklyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later, with pics if I can get it in a pile!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-5568029955598474391?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5568029955598474391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5568029955598474391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5568029955598474391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5568029955598474391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-happy-gay-gay.html' title='Happy Happy Gay Gay'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-7449477191922647376</id><published>2008-10-26T15:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T16:59:23.839-04:00</updated><title type='text'>CATCH UP!!</title><content type='html'>MMMMMMkayy. The babens is out for a walk with the other parent, so I have a chance - finally - to do some serious blogging. I'm so excited I could spit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will need to do this in stream of consciousness form since I am limited on time and I want to get it all out without thinking about it too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our child is enormous.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. Gargantuan.  I'm not sure where the capacity is coming from because we are both pretty slight people, but he is, and has been publicly called, a "bruiser." Keegan is 3 months old and 17 pounds.  Let me put this in perspective. My Aunt brought my dad's birth book from England with her on her visit so Ray and I looked at the various weights recorded in the book. He was 17 pounds when he was 6 months old. A lady in the grocery store said her son - though small through out his life - was 17 pounds at his 1 year birthday. Our kid is already courting the 6-9 month clothing set. He is one chunky monkey with thighs that would make Colonel Sanders' throw the chicken aside and call for a child-sized deep fryer.&lt;br /&gt;This just means there is more of him to love. And we love him a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am missing my blog.&lt;br /&gt;I am having the hardest time finding time to do this. Luckily, I have my iPhone which I can manage one-handed when I am nursing (which is all the time - see above). But it isn't the most convenient for commenting on blogs or, more to the point of this paragraph, creating posts. Tons has happened in the past few weeks, but I can't get it down in the computer. It makes me feel a bit disconnected from the world, but I'll get over it. Or I'll get better at time management. (Moms - does this ever happen? I see you all managing to get on your computers.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to Cali.&lt;br /&gt;My old dance partner, Mario, is getting married on Halloween morning - to a famous SF drag queen. Mario and Diva Dan have been together for 16 years or so and now, that they can, have decided to tie the knot. It should be a hoot. I think Daniel is not going to be married in drag. The ceremony is at the court house, they both have to work that night, and then the day after is going to be dedicated to a big bash under a tent in their backyard.  These two are famous for their parties, so I can't wait. Many pictures to come. After that we will be going on to Brooklyn and I have to get organized for a child in colder weather..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grantie and Gruncle&lt;br /&gt;Aunt Liz and Uncle David came to visit to meet Keegan. They are such a fun loving couple and very young at heart so the Great Aunt and Great Uncle labels don't exactly fit. We tried to call them G.A.L. and G.U.D. but that too did not stick. We came up with Grantie Liz and Gruncle David two days ago.  This is going to work well for them.  Liz is so generous and would grant you the world and David is a bit of a grinch when it comes to children and animals so, yeah, the names are perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another wedding.&lt;br /&gt;cK is gettin' hitched! And we're invited to a very intimate ceremony and celebration at his family cabin in MN. So listen all y'all bloggers in The Land of Lakes - we're getting together in a bar either before or after the blessed event. I am so looking forward to meeting you guys. Clear your calendars and don't you dare go on vacation around the 27th of June. We'll be the family in the RV. No shit. My mom came up with the idea of flying into Minneapolis and RVing it in a camp ground the rest of the time.  We may even drive up to Winnipeg the weekend later for my cousin's wedding. This could end up being very ugly for my husband. His idea of roughing it is going to a hotel &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;without&lt;/span&gt; reservations. But it should be some cozy kind of fun...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Mac.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love it. Period. Though my iTunes is still a little messed up... where are my playlists?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What else?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think the right person won Project Runway, I can't wait for Top Chef NY, and the jury is still out on Top Design.  Do I like this show or don't I? I don't make the effort to watch it in Prime Time, but it is the first thing I will look for at three in the morning while I am sitting up, propping up Keegan to help him digest one of his three mid-night meals. Who, by the by, is now sleeping three, four and even five hours at a time! I never believed the talk about the magic age of three months, but everything seems to be smoothing out. Perspective changes, man. I would never had thought that I could get excited about a three hour chunk of sleep. But I do, I do!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I think that is a decent bit of information sharing. My boobs are tingling and I think I might hear a squeak from the crib in the next thirty seconds. Ciao bellas, talk at you next time. Hopefully it won't be as long as the last hiatus...&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/26122438-7449477191922647376?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/7449477191922647376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=7449477191922647376' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7449477191922647376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7449477191922647376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/10/catch-up.html' title='CATCH UP!!'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2529496339234924519</id><published>2008-10-24T21:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T21:11:12.083-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Macalicious</title><content type='html'>So here I sit - in front of my new MacBook Pro...loving it (except I can't import my playlists from iTunes properly.  Will have to figure that out later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaaaand will have to post more later as Liz and David from England just came through the door.  They are Great Aunt and Great Uncle to Keegan and they aren't keen on the title so we're changing them to Grantie Liz and Gruncle David. Should go because now I'm being rude doing this and trying to talk at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More tomorrow during nap time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-2529496339234924519?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2529496339234924519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2529496339234924519' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2529496339234924519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2529496339234924519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/10/macalicious.html' title='Macalicious'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1675946063028739224</id><published>2008-10-18T10:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T10:10:09.848-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sounds Like The New McDonald's Sandwich</title><content type='html'>I am mid Mac-switch. Catch up with you soon. I think I'm going to love the new computer. Wish me luck...I hear it's easy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-1675946063028739224?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1675946063028739224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1675946063028739224' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1675946063028739224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1675946063028739224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/10/sounds-like-new-mcdonalds-sandwich.html' title='Sounds Like The New McDonald&apos;s Sandwich'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-386503397199903443</id><published>2008-09-24T13:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T13:09:40.694-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Give Up</title><content type='html'>I'm just not doing it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cutting my son's nails has become a nightmare so I'm just not going to do it anymore. I cut him EVERY TIME!  I don't know if the clippers are defective, or if I'm just completely blind, but I catch his little fingertips and it makes me feel like a monster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you do it?  I'm thinking itty bitty nail file? Chewing them off? I mean my god - I'can't hurt him every four days when his dracula like claws grow out! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-386503397199903443?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/386503397199903443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=386503397199903443' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/386503397199903443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/386503397199903443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-give-up.html' title='I Give Up'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-3528975120441350260</id><published>2008-09-18T14:53:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T15:20:51.429-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Got Tagged, Just Now Getting Around To It</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the delay Madwoman...Obviously I was busy trying to kill my child (see previous post), or at least get a shower in, or a full meal...whatever. Here we go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six fantastically unremarkable things about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I'm a picker. I like zits (both white and black), scabs, boils, boogers (both mine and yours), ear wax, etc., and Oh My God I have a child now to pick things off of!! Woot! I discovered yesterday, however, that I do not like picking infected fingers. My Guy had an ingrown fingernail that he has been digging at with various and sundry filthy objects like scissors, tweezers and pushpins. It got puffy a few days ago and turned slightly green yesterday. He asked me to poke it with a sterile (surprise there) needle and squeeze it so he could relieve some of the throbbing pain. I acquiesced like any good picker would do. WHAT? It had potential! But then when I pricked the mound (that sounded dirty) loose, watery, greenish yellow pus burst forth and quite frankly grossed me out. There was not much pleasure in it at all - even when I gave it several good squeezes to get the rest out. I think, for me, the appeal of the ooze is in the thickness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I am just gross (see above) and am comfortable being that way. Take me or leave me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) If you want to entice me, offer me chips - the saltier, the better. Sweets don't do it for me (she says eating a chocolate chip cookie with her tea...). I won't tire of the chip - I'll weather the ripped up mouth from masses and masses of salt n' vinegar crisps, but I will not, repeat, NOT, go any further once the twinge of sickliness washes over me from too much sugar. Bleah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I think inanimate objects have feelings. I feel sorry for neglected things; I wonder if certain of my rarely used spices feel rejected, or if my towel is screaming to be washed. Can toys really communicate and does my third-in-line-brush pine to be used? I don't know, but I do wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) I have super hard teeth and my nails and hair grow like stink. I never rue a bad haircut. It's gone in like 6 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) I am scared to do things for the first time. Once I buck up and get it out of the way, no big deal...I'm all good. The thought of driving a car before I had actually done nearly paralyzed me. Nowadays, I'm afraid of the prospect of going out to new environments with my son. Target was a big step. Will he choke in his car seat from spit-up? How do I unload the car efficiently? Will the car seat be best in the front of the cart, or should I put the whole deal in the body of the cart? Or should I just bring the Baby Bjorn? Or will he freak out and cry the entire time inconsolably? Will he want to be fed? Where do I do this? Should I just stay home?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps - I did Target at home at week 2 and I just did it here in Brooklyn this morning. Maybe next I can tackle the subway to the city. Now I just have to contemplate the laundry list of fears I have about that one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-3528975120441350260?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/3528975120441350260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=3528975120441350260' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3528975120441350260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3528975120441350260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/09/got-tagged-just-now-geting-around-to-it.html' title='Got Tagged, Just Now Getting Around To It'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-3940794657598848821</id><published>2008-09-17T14:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T14:51:14.929-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG!! I Won, I Won!!!!</title><content type='html'>The Bad Mother of the Year Award goes to....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lollie!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After heavy debate between the judges, it has been decided that Lollie locking her infant son inside the apartment while taking the stroller downstairs in preparation for a nice afternoon walk trumps Allana Moundburger's daily overfeeding of bacon to her two-year-old Mathida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am retarded...who doesn't check that the latch on the self-locking door isn't clicked? Who got rejected with a hearty NO! when she asked a stranger across the street to borrow is cell phone? Was it her crazy bedhead? Maybe the dirty T-shirt and poor fitting sweats? Probably the fact that she had nothing on her feet? More than likely all of the above with the panicked look on her face. The Holy Crap What Have I Done and How Do I Undo it?!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George - you kind and wonderful man - I owe you big time for calming me down after I found you eating your lunch on the stoop taking a break from refurbing the place 5 doors down. You tried to break in with your Home Depot gift card (thus ruining it and losing a pantload of money that could have been spent on lumber and caulk and such) (I'm paying you back dude - seriously - I just need to get to an ATM). You cracked another card before you realized your criminal breaking and entering skills were not up to snuff. You retrieved a ladder from your crew and climbed to our second story window (after saying you'd have scaled the wall had you not had a ladder), popped the screen and climbed in the window. You passed my perfectly safe and sound infant who had no idea anything was wrong, who was, in fact, quiet for the first time all day long. You mercifully didn't express your discomfort when the previously mentioned wild-eyed, crazy Bad Mother hugged you when you opened her door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George, you are my hero and I applaud you for being a kind human being...unlike that first piece of shit waste of human skin who snubbed me outright without registering the desperation in my face. Asshole. What ever happened to Pay It Forward? I'm looking for my next desperate citizen whom I will help without a second's hesitation. Please do the same for your fellow man...or wild-eyed, crazy Bad Mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I emailed my Mom yesterday who is in Prague and told her about the ordeal.  She wrote back, "Okay, you win." - hence the title.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-3940794657598848821?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/3940794657598848821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=3940794657598848821' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3940794657598848821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3940794657598848821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/09/omg-i-won-i-won.html' title='OMG!! I Won, I Won!!!!'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8376861802849855751</id><published>2008-09-09T11:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T11:46:54.727-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoo Ahhh</title><content type='html'>VERSION 1 won!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;except we left on Sunday at 11 - we ran out of diapers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8376861802849855751?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8376861802849855751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8376861802849855751' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8376861802849855751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8376861802849855751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/09/whoo-ahhh.html' title='Whoo Ahhh'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5765267740354738989</id><published>2008-09-05T19:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T19:56:35.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'>6 Weeks And I'm Free Baby!</title><content type='html'>Catch you suckers on Sunday - We're off to The Ritz!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had my 6 week check up today and the doc says I am race ready for long, hot soaks in the bath, exercise and some seriously overdue fooling around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Guy is treating us all to 24 hours of bliss in a practically empty (off season) hotel.  We're going to rule the roost, lord the land, hog the hotel. We'll arrive at 2, eat some lunch, walk on the beach, check in, unpack, flirt, get massaged in the spa, swim, enjoy dinner reservations, score a movie in bed, maybe fit in a little bang bang and then catch some sleep. The next day we will just take advantage of the $85 credit for in-room food and stay in bed until check out at 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's in a perfect world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We may just end up being slaves to the wee one's beck and call (aka scream and cry). We may both end up looking like Phyllis Diller on her worst day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you know which version we end up with...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-5765267740354738989?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5765267740354738989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5765267740354738989' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5765267740354738989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5765267740354738989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/09/6-weeks-and-im-free-baby.html' title='6 Weeks And I&apos;m Free Baby!'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8263764194988635386</id><published>2008-09-02T18:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T18:32:57.920-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Things</title><content type='html'>- went on a date on Friday - sans child! It was awesome - I drank a cocktail (ginger ale and vanilla vodka - yumalicious...ode to Project Runway there)&lt;br /&gt;- going to Brooklyn on the 13th for two weeks - avec child! First airplane trip...need advice on security and car seat maneuvering (anyone? Bueller?)&lt;br /&gt;- got the wee one to sleep in his co-sleeper all night on Saturday, no bed time at all (I consider this a major coup. Oh and don't get too excited, it wasn't all in a row - we are far from that yet)&lt;br /&gt;- I think Aunt Flo came last week (is this possible? Keegan's only 5 weeks old!!???!)&lt;br /&gt;- I've been given the shopping directive again (need a bed, dresser, table and chairs, sofa, and baby accoutrement for the NY apartment - yahoo!! Look out Am Ex, here I come!)&lt;br /&gt;- We had a birthday party at the house for my mom yesterday (and we survived the entire family coming to the house...the lasagna was awesome sweetheart! Thanks for relieving me of the cooking.)&lt;br /&gt;- I managed to eat breakfast before 11 am, have a shower, pay bills, clean the kitchen, do the laundry, blog and make lunch today (you were right mom...it is getting better...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8263764194988635386?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8263764194988635386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8263764194988635386' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8263764194988635386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8263764194988635386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/09/few-things.html' title='A Few Things'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4995932817097151906</id><published>2008-08-29T16:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T17:00:56.329-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Something I Thought I'd Never Do</title><content type='html'>So what's the weirdest non-toilet thing you've ever done while you were on the toilet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the baby, I'd have to say it was, oh, maybe filing my nails. You know...we women like to multi-task. Reading - fairly normal to some - I've done it. I still do it. It's pretty much the only time I can find &lt;em&gt;to&lt;/em&gt; do it. I think I may have blogged a time or two on the pot. I have never eaten in the can (though I can admit that I have finished chewing a mouthful of sandwich while getting...umm..."set-up").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my new accomplishment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nursing while in the biffy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never thought I'd to it, but necessity is the mother of invention. My Guy was gone, I was already in the middle of nursing and well, when you gotta go, you just gotta go. So we just went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gross right? Mom's? Anyone else share my shame? Bueller?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4995932817097151906?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4995932817097151906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4995932817097151906' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4995932817097151906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4995932817097151906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/08/something-i-thought-id-never-do.html' title='Something I Thought I&apos;d Never Do'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-7378512413835949084</id><published>2008-08-16T11:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T11:32:16.242-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Storm Watch</title><content type='html'>The only other thing to report was yesterday's blowout. Keegan started choking on the changing table when I was doing his diaper, so in a panic, after a whole load of milk came out of his nose and mouth, I picked him up...without a diaper on. He then proceeded to pee all down the front of freshly showered me. In the sleep deprived fog, I think I thought that I could catch the flow between my knees. Not so much. So he kept freaking out so I could only comfort him by nursing him. I decided to throw him over my shoulder and get set up when he barfed cheese on my shoulder. He was also wearing a good deal of it. Let me sum up the scene for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cheesy barf on his face, clothes and my shoulder. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pee down the front of his onesie, my bra, naked tummy, underwear, freshly shaved and lotioned legs and the carpet below.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Milk dripping out of my boobs onto his face, shoulder, onesie and my tummy. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Then he pooped ferociously. (Luckily I had the presence of mind to whip on a poorly placed diaper before we got to the nursing chair. It held.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There we were, sitting in squalour, me wondering what the hell just happened. I went from this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SKbwbzcrRfI/AAAAAAAAAZg/Ah-QLsrH0zw/s1600-h/IMG_0200.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235135977322399218" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SKbwbzcrRfI/AAAAAAAAAZg/Ah-QLsrH0zw/s400/IMG_0200.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.extrememortman.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/phyllis_diller.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.extrememortman.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/phyllis_diller.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in a matter of seconds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-7378512413835949084?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/7378512413835949084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=7378512413835949084' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7378512413835949084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7378512413835949084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/08/storm-watch.html' title='Storm Watch'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SKbwbzcrRfI/AAAAAAAAAZg/Ah-QLsrH0zw/s72-c/IMG_0200.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8158254161693158377</id><published>2008-08-11T20:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T21:05:43.287-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is My Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I get excited if I can manage to accomplish one thing in a day. Pathetic, I know. Some past daily milestones:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- painted my toenails&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- went to Target (still without the baby...I'll get there)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- grabbed a shower&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- answered three emails&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- shaved legs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- unloaded the dishwasher&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- cooked a real meal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- drove to the pediatrician without Ray&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- did two loads of laundry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- cleaned the kitchen counter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- got bagels and coffee on Saturday morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keep in mind that the entire list above would be a normal Saturday-before-11:00-am kind of activity in my previous life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am I adjusting okay? I don't know. I think I'm keeping it together pretty well, but I am kind of struggling with my new identity. What is it right now? I know it's "New Mom," but what is that really at this moment? Your basic vending machine, that always has one eye open to make sure the baby is still breathing/not choking/dry/happy/well-fed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm told this too will pass. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I'm okay. I'm really okay. Because we have this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SKDhzs97Z5I/AAAAAAAAAZY/S4RZT0lEhQM/s1600-h/IMG_0181.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233431045365000082" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SKDhzs97Z5I/AAAAAAAAAZY/S4RZT0lEhQM/s400/IMG_0181.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8158254161693158377?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8158254161693158377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8158254161693158377' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8158254161693158377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8158254161693158377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-is-my-life.html' title='This Is My Life'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SKDhzs97Z5I/AAAAAAAAAZY/S4RZT0lEhQM/s72-c/IMG_0181.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4245381333217638948</id><published>2008-08-09T14:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T14:49:00.179-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Decide Which I Need More</title><content type='html'>To get out of the house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My closing left eye is rooting for the nap. My feet are arguing with my eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you know who wins in a min.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4245381333217638948?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4245381333217638948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4245381333217638948' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4245381333217638948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4245381333217638948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-cant-decide-which-i-need-more.html' title='I Can&apos;t Decide Which I Need More'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-3354191811784279294</id><published>2008-08-04T02:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T02:09:33.360-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For Those In The Know</title><content type='html'>Question for the breast feeding moms:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the sweet one is/was latched, does/did anyone else feel like there is/was a disco going on in the active boob? You know, with 70s strobe lights and everything?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-3354191811784279294?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/3354191811784279294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=3354191811784279294' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3354191811784279294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3354191811784279294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/08/for-those-in-know.html' title='For Those In The Know'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1689065489990540750</id><published>2008-08-03T21:05:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T21:15:57.154-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Haven't Been Around Lately</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SJZWIW_UEZI/AAAAAAAAAYw/8dUihRMwMYI/s1600-h/IMG_0200.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230462718847488402" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SJZWIW_UEZI/AAAAAAAAAYw/8dUihRMwMYI/s400/IMG_0200.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say hi to our Keegan! This little morsel of love showed up on July 24th at 12:46. He was 7 lbs 9 ozs and 20 inches long. We have been swooning ever since (and grabbing sleep wherever and whenever we can find it!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep thinking I can blog when he finishes up his eternal snacking, but then I want to rest when he is out, so my computer is gathering a bit of dust. I'm told this will get better. Are they lying to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy arm with Baby foot - cute, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SJZX8HEMRYI/AAAAAAAAAZA/eKOcMFtRzFw/s1600-h/IMG_0214.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230464707437806978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SJZX8HEMRYI/AAAAAAAAAZA/eKOcMFtRzFw/s400/IMG_0214.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/26122438-1689065489990540750?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1689065489990540750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1689065489990540750' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1689065489990540750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1689065489990540750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/08/why-i-havent-been-around-lately.html' title='Why I Haven&apos;t Been Around Lately'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SJZWIW_UEZI/AAAAAAAAAYw/8dUihRMwMYI/s72-c/IMG_0200.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5603619370123181267</id><published>2008-07-19T08:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T09:18:34.012-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Light At The End Of The Tunnel, err, I Mean Projector</title><content type='html'>So after going to see The Hulk with My Guy last month, the baby and I realized about halfway through that we were both getting irritatto with the extreme Dolby sounds of screaming, grunting and things generally being punched really hard and crashing through windows, cars, walls, etc. It was just too much and the babens was most definitely becoming more and more distressed, twisting, startling and kicking my ribs, so much so that I almost left the theatre clutching my belly trying to dampen the noise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We then decided that there would be no more in utero movies of the graphic novel nature.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then Guillermo del Toros &lt;em&gt;Hellboy II&lt;/em&gt; had the nerve to come out. *sigh*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little known fact about me: I Love Hellboy. His "Aw, crap" cracks me up and his nonchalance about the demons from the underworld is refreshing. I also love Abe. I could go on and on, but really couldn't, in the near future anyway, because we had decided to fore go the flick in the theatre and wait for it to come out on DVD (just not the same experience as the Big Screen, but there you go...we're trying to be responsible almost parents). The Dark Night held the same sort of disappointment for us as well. Dammit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then...a Ray of Golden Light hit me square on the forehead while I was in kundalini prenatal yoga yesterday morning (I know, probably not the place to be thinking how we'd get around this Hellboy dilemma, I should have been visualizing a happy birth and healthy baby, blah blah blah, but there you have it, this is where my mind goes when meditating).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;DRIVE-IN!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Drive-in + radio knobs = sound control! We checked out the times at our local and found both &lt;em&gt;Hellboy&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;and&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;The Dark Night&lt;/em&gt;! Score!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With smiling faces, we packed a bag with Jones' Cream Soda - hello, the best sugar cane soda in the land, a bottle of water, and rushed out to get a sausage and mushroom pizza from Dean Anthony's. We made the movie in time to grab a bag of corn and some nachos with that unearthly yellow hot lava cheese product (divine) and settled into the reclined CR-V seats. It was magic. Just like being on a high school date - without the making out, we just ogled each other in love/movie bliss - why you ask? My belly is way to big for leaning over in the front seat to lock lips. Sorry, hubby, but that's just where we are right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It even thundered and lightninged outside, and at one point it started to pour down. We didn't care, we just flipped on the wipers and watched (SPOILER!) Abe nearly destroy the world for his love of Princess Nuala through the hypnotic swishing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think we're going to attempt The Dark Night tonight. Yes, two drive-in movies in a row may sound indulgent, and yes, I may get nauseous from all the buttered popcorn in my system, but I think all the parents out there know that we need to get this shit in while we can, n'est pas?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.celebratedouglascounty.com/depts/upload/2007/04/2007042508275175/Friday_Night_Drive_In.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.celebratedouglascounty.com/depts/upload/2007/04/2007042508275175/Friday_Night_Drive_In.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-5603619370123181267?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5603619370123181267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5603619370123181267' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5603619370123181267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5603619370123181267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/07/light-at-end-of-tunnel-err-i-mean.html' title='The Light At The End Of The Tunnel, err, I Mean Projector'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-7634300266903201761</id><published>2008-07-17T13:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T13:56:18.035-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh - And Then There's This</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SH-HfWop86I/AAAAAAAAAYI/HQkU1_dmsZ4/s1600-h/IMG_1047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224043065494860706" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SH-HfWop86I/AAAAAAAAAYI/HQkU1_dmsZ4/s400/IMG_1047.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SH-HOODRT7I/AAAAAAAAAYA/9mG98wpvY2U/s1600-h/IMG_1046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224042771132796850" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SH-HOODRT7I/AAAAAAAAAYA/9mG98wpvY2U/s400/IMG_1046.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it's not an illuuuuuusion...I have grown my own personal table.&lt;br /&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/26122438-7634300266903201761?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/7634300266903201761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=7634300266903201761' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7634300266903201761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7634300266903201761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/07/oh-and-then-theres-this.html' title='Oh - And Then There&apos;s This'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SH-HfWop86I/AAAAAAAAAYI/HQkU1_dmsZ4/s72-c/IMG_1047.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4414515316974206601</id><published>2008-07-17T13:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T13:43:51.882-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby, Baby, Are You Okay?!</title><content type='html'>So we went to our infant CPR class last night. As soon as we stepped in the classroom, we were visually assaulted with 12 footie-pajama-ed baby dolls with, wait for it, PLASTIC BAGS OVER THEIR HEADS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On second glance, I realized that they were mouth guards for the respiration part of the class, but, holy crap! I'm here to save the child, not let it frolic with a grocery bag. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Obviously it threw me for a loop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you who want to save 30 bucks and an hour and a half in a freezing cold hospital classroom, let me give you the lowdown.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;CPR&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Verify that the scene is safe (other than your child turning blue)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Tap the baby on the bottom of the foot (Baby, baby, are you okay?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Check for breathing (no sweet smelling baby breath? Start to panic)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) Open airway and shoot two quick breaths into baby covering both mouth and nose (check for chest rising. If chest explodes, cut back on the force of air expelled into baby)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) Poke 30 sharp darts into baby's chest with straight stabby fingers (yes 30, and they must delve a third to halfway into baby chest cavity. Umm, ouch?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6) Rinse and repeat 5 times while digging for cell phone (call 911)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;CHOKING&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Hold baby by the jaw and turn on stomach (baby will be stiff so hang on firmly)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Whack baby between the shoulder blades sharply 5 times (look for flying object)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Flip baby like a flapjack and commence with 5 sharp darts into baby's chest with straight stabby fingers (again, go in deep, but if you draw back with bloody finger tips, you've probably gone too far)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) Rinse and repeat until the object comes out, or baby passes out (upon passing out, refer to CPR)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;AND, that friends, is the infant CPR and choking class. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Goodnight!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cpr-savers.com/picturesweb/IndusCPRproducts/Manikins/50010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.cpr-savers.com/picturesweb/IndusCPRproducts/Manikins/50010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4414515316974206601?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4414515316974206601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4414515316974206601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4414515316974206601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4414515316974206601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/07/baby-baby-are-you-okay.html' title='Baby, Baby, Are You Okay?!'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5181259017196818438</id><published>2008-07-11T18:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T18:24:34.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The First Boy I Ever Kissed</title><content type='html'>It was the first or second grade (I'm guessing), and I insisted that we do it in the closet of my bedroom. For some reason, that was very important to me.  I'm not sure he cared, but I recently got in touch with him again and he said he remembered it as his first kiss as well.  Was I glad to learn that he was not a Casanova at that age?  Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.  He is apparently a brilliant writer now, who has been given one of, if not the, biggest advances for a first-time novelist. I think you all need to check out his &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0385524943/ref=ord_cart_shr?%5Fencoding=UTF8&amp;amp;m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&amp;amp;v=glance"&gt;book &lt;/a&gt;(available in early August - I just pre-ordered), and his very cool website &lt;a href="http://www.burnedbylove.com/"&gt;www.burnedbylove.com&lt;/a&gt; , and his &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=715066125&amp;amp;ref=nf"&gt;Facebook &lt;/a&gt;page if you are into that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am totally pimping out my first kiss.  He deserves it.  It was good. He made me blush...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-5181259017196818438?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5181259017196818438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5181259017196818438' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5181259017196818438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5181259017196818438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/07/first-boy-i-ever-kissed.html' title='The First Boy I Ever Kissed'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1507140312569085941</id><published>2008-07-10T13:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T13:36:47.082-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PWA - Also Known As The Pediatrics Wrestling Association</title><content type='html'>The two guys I've seen so far are going to have to duke it out in a to-the-death cage match.  I can't decide between doctors...they're both so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Advantage for Doc A: bigger practice, after hours care&lt;br /&gt;Advantage for Doc B: closer intimate office, will come to hospital personally after babens is born&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which direction to go? And should I add another doc into the mix?  She lives in my development...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yarg!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-1507140312569085941?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1507140312569085941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1507140312569085941' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1507140312569085941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1507140312569085941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/07/pwa-also-known-as-pediatrics-wrestling.html' title='PWA - Also Known As The Pediatrics Wrestling Association'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-7426966892267950190</id><published>2008-07-09T22:03:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T22:20:20.724-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How Did I Ever Have Time When I Was Working?!</title><content type='html'>I have been up by at least 6:30 (4:45 this morning) for the last three days and they have been FULL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accomplishments:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- a daily nap&lt;br /&gt;- lots of stuffing of the face&lt;br /&gt;- for real cooking&lt;br /&gt;- daily trip to the gym&lt;br /&gt;- looking out the window at the ducks&lt;br /&gt;- making of muffins&lt;br /&gt;- nesting&lt;br /&gt;- nesting&lt;br /&gt;- nesting&lt;br /&gt;- thank you cards&lt;br /&gt;- blogging (hi again everyone!)&lt;br /&gt;- catching up on email&lt;br /&gt;- doctor's appointments&lt;br /&gt;- car seat safety appointments&lt;br /&gt;- ducking out of our last Bradley class&lt;br /&gt;- yoga class&lt;br /&gt;- downloading every CD I own into my iTunes library&lt;br /&gt;- birthday gift shopping and wrapping (big brother, you are going to LOVE US!)&lt;br /&gt;- pediatrician shopping&lt;br /&gt;- weekly visit to the midwife (all is well and moving along nicely)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this not working thing. Hopefully I can enjoy the next 28 days to the max. Because the rest of our lives are going to be A LOT of work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-7426966892267950190?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/7426966892267950190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=7426966892267950190' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7426966892267950190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7426966892267950190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-did-i-ever-have-time-when-i-was.html' title='How Did I Ever Have Time When I Was Working?!'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-9011107810138291915</id><published>2008-06-30T13:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T10:42:10.488-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fertile Myrtle the Turtle Got Over a Major Hurdle</title><content type='html'>It is my older brother’s 40th birthday in two weeks and he’s had such a crap year that we’ve decided to extend his festivities and make it a month long party of great weekends. Saturday night was the first in the long string of drunkenness to come...but, alas, not for me. *sigh* &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyway, we (Joey, G, Sash, E, Me and Ray) piled into Joey and G's fabulous Mercedes SUV and sped off to The Food Shack. Uh, for those of you who will be in Florida at &lt;em&gt;any&lt;/em&gt; time in the future, this is a must not miss. I've been hearing about this damn restaurant for years and finally managed to get there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And. It. Was. So. Worth. It.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's in Jupiter in a crappy little strip mall. Looks like nothing from the outside. The only marker is the crowd of people waiting to get into the joint. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ps - they only have a beer and wine license, yet nobody cares. It's all about the food.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We finally got our party of six seated, in the back, near the toilets, on a 4 top with chairs squeezed on the ends. Again, nobody cared. After looking at the handwritten menu for the day, passed to us by 7-year-old Jessica (it was her first night, Joey told her she was working like an old pro), Ray and I ordered a kebab of pan-fried scallops, cooked to caramelly perfection, atop a bed of greens and tropical fruit. Holy Crap! Then I had the coconut and ginger encrusted hogfish with some sort of crazy sauce drizzled over it, atop a salad of delicate micro greens. Holy Crap Crap! I was loving it. After Sash ate his meal, he draped himself across E and G and caught a quick catnap. Nobody in the restaurant cared. My kinda place!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The gang then decided that we should hit the liquor store next door and load up on beer, ice, gin and mixers and hit the beach like we were 17 again. Sounded like a plan to me, but I ducked into Publix to get my own personal stash. That's right. Cake and cookies. C'mon, meow!If I can't imbibe in the G and T, you better bloody let me have some sugar! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the checkout, I witnessed two big boobed modelly types being chatted up by two older bull dykey types. Lots of flirting going on there. I casually looked up into the magazine rack and saw that someone had left a discarded toy called The Jumbo Fish Dive and Catch Game. Hmmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How appropriate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went back into the liquor store to see how things were coming along. Everyone had a drink in their hand! I guess the party goes wherever Joey goes, so paper cup beers and plastic cup wines were all over the place. Exclamations of "Ooooh, try this one!" and "I like this red better than the other two!" and "We should make our own beer, like this!" We left with three bags of booze and a cooler full of ice. Sandy paradise, here we come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, because all of them were already drunky, I got to drive the Mercedes! Beautiful car, but &lt;em&gt;complicated&lt;/em&gt;. It was as if it was saying, and not so subtly "I am special, therefore my controls will be weird and in completely different places." Sniff. I kept trying to indicate my turns with the cruise control and I had to have the push button Park mode explained to me a couple of times. But fantastic car nonetheless. Flips a bitch like a dream. A the sound system was pumping out Motley Crue like nobody's business. Joey's on a Crue jag right now - he's dragging Sash to their concert tomorrow night. Thank god I have Prenatal Yoga as an excuse...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We unloaded the car at the quiet end of the beach just as the sunlight was disappearing. They set up the bar, I dove into the cake (a slice white on white for me, chocolate for the Birthday Boy, and sugar cookies for the rest of you bastards). We laughed and got even more drunky and peed in the bushes. Joey kept standing upwind of us and farting these devastatingly revolting beefs our way. It really was just like we were back in high school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, the most amazing thing happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;An enormous, and I mean gigantonormous, sea turtle hauled her ass out of the ocean, plowed her way up the beach, leaving an SUV-sized trail in the sand, and commenced digging a nest and laying her eggs for the next hour and a half. We stood there in awe just watching this pregnant monolith work her paddles like the devil, grunting out and covering about 100 leathery eggs. Then she turned around and lumbered, with frequent rests, back into the sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.turtlewatch.org/egg_laying.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 400px;" alt="" src="http://www.turtlewatch.org/egg_laying.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was pretty magical. Joey got all weepy and said we'd just witnessed a miracle. I think he was pretty drunk, but it was sweet. I also felt a pretty cool oneness with the old girl. I'm just thankful that I don't have to squirt this kid out by myself, in the dark, with ten billion grains of sand crawling up my ass crack.&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/26122438-9011107810138291915?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/9011107810138291915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=9011107810138291915' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/9011107810138291915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/9011107810138291915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/06/fertile-myrtle-turtle-got-over-major.html' title='Fertile Myrtle the Turtle Got Over a Major Hurdle'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-3426616069731683696</id><published>2008-06-27T22:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T22:31:58.648-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Alright...Here It Is</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SGWiYY6AG5I/AAAAAAAAAXw/29Iqo7-Z0zY/s1600-h/IMG_1014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SGWiYY6AG5I/AAAAAAAAAXw/29Iqo7-Z0zY/s400/IMG_1014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216754283264875410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I used to love these glasses. What in the world of Lisa Loeb was I thinking?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-3426616069731683696?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/3426616069731683696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=3426616069731683696' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3426616069731683696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3426616069731683696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/06/alrighthere-it-is.html' title='Alright...Here It Is'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SGWiYY6AG5I/AAAAAAAAAXw/29Iqo7-Z0zY/s72-c/IMG_1014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-7657559559066167626</id><published>2008-06-25T14:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T14:33:02.917-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Ever Want To Feel Like A Total Nerd...</title><content type='html'>Just put on an old pair of glasses that you found in your bedside drawer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I had a picture of this to show y'all, but my camera just ran out of battery, so I can't wrestle it from my camera right now...but I will post it later. I know, I'm a tease.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-7657559559066167626?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/7657559559066167626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=7657559559066167626' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7657559559066167626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7657559559066167626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/06/if-you-ever-want-to-feel-like-total.html' title='If You Ever Want To Feel Like A Total Nerd...'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8440672260147219289</id><published>2008-06-22T15:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T09:09:07.865-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Just Ate My Weight In Crab Legs</title><content type='html'>If this kid doesn't come out with claws and antennae, I'm going to be very surprised. The guests, Mom, Ray and I went to The Breakers in Palm Beach for brunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the only meal we had all day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8440672260147219289?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8440672260147219289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8440672260147219289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8440672260147219289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8440672260147219289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-just-ate-my-weight-in-crab-legs.html' title='I Just Ate My Weight In Crab Legs'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8417723151969061232</id><published>2008-06-19T18:16:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T18:50:57.511-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Come Out Come Out, Wherever You Are</title><content type='html'>Yeah, so.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To add to the list of why I haven’t been blogging is that I have no Internet connection at home. So I wrote this in Word and if it is now visible to you, My Guy has fixed the wireless or given up his LAN connection for a hot minute. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(At the time of publishing, My Guy handed the LAN over - he's such a peach.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrcUZar82I/AAAAAAAAAWo/l0qBUyjCj1k/s1600-h/IMG_0971.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrcUZar82I/AAAAAAAAAWo/l0qBUyjCj1k/s400/IMG_0971.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213721761613083490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Where to start?! Okay – the obvious. Baby C is getting bigger and bigger and moving around like a jitterbug competitor. Nothing uncomfortable like getting kicked in the ribs, but a definite pattern of movement. Bicycle peddling on the right side of my belly at 5:45 am, hiccups for 10 minutes, nap while I eat breakfast, Rumble in the Jungle at work around 10:15 (seriously, my entire torso jiggles back and forth like Alien is trying to get out via my now non-existent belly button), hiccups at noon, knocking at the uterus door around 3:45, more hiccups before dinner and one last workout (with free weights, I think) before bed. And all of this is peppered with a punch or donkey kick here and there.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I love it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;More baby related stuff and then I’ll quit on that. The Shower. What a lovely little party my girls threw for me. I was entirely gay and went out and bought a new dress for the daisy-themed occasion (see above). Gay, right? But I will admit…I do love the dress and will wear it again this weekend to go to “Brunch at The Breakers” with our weekend house guests. I might even try to have it altered so I can wear it when I’m sans bump so I won’t look like I’m drowning in fabric.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anywho, I took off that morning and went to my first La Leche League meeting (breast feeding group for those of you not in the boob-know) and watched about 24 women alternately breast feed their babies/toddlers/children (yes, children, as in 4 going on 5) and listened to them talk about their problems and solutions regarding child rearing. It was an interesting group of ladies. Some were super granola, hairy legs and all, one was a cop, a few were typical Type A controllers who were wondering about how to cope with work and babies. I think I will like continuing with this wildly different group of chics who all have this common bond of a child. I was the only one who was pre-kid, and by the time the circle of introductions came around to me I had to excuse myself and take off to attend my shower. That garnered lots of oohs and ahhs and well wishes. I will more than likely see them all again before I drop this ball of baby, but you never know…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So onto the shower. The house was covered, literally, in white and yellow daisies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrdByP5dwI/AAAAAAAAAWw/N5nh3dOIeYw/s1600-h/IMG_0925.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrdByP5dwI/AAAAAAAAAWw/N5nh3dOIeYw/s400/IMG_0925.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213722541372831490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was so flippin’ cheery in there that I’ve decided to get flowers every week and spread the love in my house. There’s a wholesaler down the street, so filling up the joint with some cheap flowers on a Saturday won’t break the bank.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Just don’t expect to come over and find roses. Daisies or, gulp, carnations may be more likely. There was a magnificent spread on Whole Foods prepared stuff on the dining room table and a fun-looking punch on the counter. The coop de gracie was a platter full of daisy cupcakes from Publix Greenwise. Holy crap these were good (this was my one request of my Mom and Sisters-in-Law – white cupcakes with white icing, one of my two sweet treats these days – the other is Ben and Jerry’s pistachio ice cream), and just beautiful to boot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrdk_MATJI/AAAAAAAAAW4/NgwFFqeGkLo/s1600-h/IMG_0934.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrdk_MATJI/AAAAAAAAAW4/NgwFFqeGkLo/s400/IMG_0934.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213723146141584530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sorry this is sideways - but you get the idea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Presents and hugs abounded – thankfully, baby shower games did not. Nobody wrapped anybody in toilet paper, and we didn’t have to identify any melted chocolate bars in any “dirty” diapers. Thanks Ladies! A lovely time was had by all and now we’re up to our armpits in baby junk! Bring on the kid!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFreTlDGBGI/AAAAAAAAAXA/KkfZ3nR5Qxg/s1600-h/IMG_0961.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFreTlDGBGI/AAAAAAAAAXA/KkfZ3nR5Qxg/s400/IMG_0961.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213723946578740322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and my lovely family gals (Sister-in-Law Jen, Cousin Sarah, Twin One Nate, Twin Two Remy, Sister-in-Law Elizabeth, Mom, Me and Sister-in-Law, aka E's little sister,Tricia).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrfVWwCEVI/AAAAAAAAAXI/QzqLbX07ASk/s1600-h/IMG_0969.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrfVWwCEVI/AAAAAAAAAXI/QzqLbX07ASk/s400/IMG_0969.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213725076612059474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kavaterin to my two sweetie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrgwJO2GuI/AAAAAAAAAXg/_DXcsTplPP0/s1600-h/Remy+Drinking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrgwJO2GuI/AAAAAAAAAXg/_DXcsTplPP0/s400/Remy+Drinking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213726636351298274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrhBNN9JSI/AAAAAAAAAXo/cba8xBmOKRs/s1600-h/Nate+drinking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrhBNN9JSI/AAAAAAAAAXo/cba8xBmOKRs/s400/Nate+drinking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213726929479083298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...yet, potentialy hard drinkin' Godsons.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Work. Hmmm. Work is weird.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m getting the distinct feeling that I don’t need to be there anymore. In fact, I’m kind of feeling positively useless, which, don’t get me wrong, is a good thing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;David, my replacement, is awesome. A self-starter, and just brilliant on the computer. He even saw a problem with a form page that he’d created on Friday and then came in on his own on Saturday to fix it. So, really, I kind of go in, look at my/our email – he’ll be taking over my email account when I’m out for good on July 3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt;, organize and direct it a bit, ask him what he’s up to and if he needs help – usually I get a Umm, nope, but thanks for asking” and then I kind of odd job it all day and leave early.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We have an appointment today at 1:00 to see a mid-wife (more on that saga in another post) and I’m pretty much just thinking of not going in at all and just getting the house ready for P, B and C who are coming in from New York for a long weekend with us.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So friends, I have to shower (of the watery sort) and get ready for the day – so I’m signing off with a promise that I will not disappear for again for two and a half weeks. More soon on the whole mid-wife thing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It should be an interesting visit today… &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8417723151969061232?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8417723151969061232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8417723151969061232' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8417723151969061232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8417723151969061232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/06/come-out-come-out-wherever-you-are.html' title='Come Out Come Out, Wherever You Are'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFrcUZar82I/AAAAAAAAAWo/l0qBUyjCj1k/s72-c/IMG_0971.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5502465205710843643</id><published>2008-06-18T12:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T13:11:33.849-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Showered in Love</title><content type='html'>Just a "placeholder" for a better bigger post. I apologize for living under this rock for the past two weeks. Not really sure where I have been other than buried in baby accoutrement, cleaning the house for upcoming guests, looking for a doula (and maybe even a mid-wife at this late date - 33 weeks today) and training my replacement at work. *guh* and being exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick pick of the event, but I promise, more to come tonight.  I'm scheduling a date with myself to sink into the couch and bounce a happy baby laptop on my knee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFlBg4-lkhI/AAAAAAAAAWg/kNUtJsmyo0g/s1600-h/IMG_0943.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFlBg4-lkhI/AAAAAAAAAWg/kNUtJsmyo0g/s400/IMG_0943.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213270076964573714" 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/26122438-5502465205710843643?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5502465205710843643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5502465205710843643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5502465205710843643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5502465205710843643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/06/showered-in-love.html' title='Showered in Love'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SFlBg4-lkhI/AAAAAAAAAWg/kNUtJsmyo0g/s72-c/IMG_0943.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1108872180613897113</id><published>2008-05-30T09:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T09:32:37.497-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Overload and the City</title><content type='html'>Not that I'm &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;excited...and not that I'm &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;going to see this movie with a bunch of gals in two weeks...BUT, c'mon.  Enough already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned on the tube this morning and it was on Bravo from last night's late night viewing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SJP's not so attractive hairdo was on The Actor's Studio, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt;.  I flipped to The Early Show and there were three dolled up SATC fans taking a quiz for a bag full of shoes. Clicked off the tube and turned on the radio. My regular morning show was doing a hybrid of Sex and the City Price is Right High/Low game about top-shelf shoes and bags. I moved on to NPR thinking I'd get some relief and there I found an exposé of Carrie's narcissism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And! And! It was the lead to the more important, and too short,  story (at least I think anyway) about the death of a terrific talent who will sorely be missed. Mr. Harvey Korman had to follow the in depth examination of a shoe-obsessed, self-involved, TV character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to name a few of my faves:&lt;br /&gt;Prof von Klupp&lt;br /&gt;Prof. Auguste Balls&lt;br /&gt;Ed Higgins&lt;br /&gt;Count de Monet&lt;br /&gt;Monty Rushmore&lt;br /&gt;Chef Gormaanda&lt;br /&gt;Henry Snavely&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Charles Montague&lt;br /&gt;Hedley Lamarr&lt;br /&gt;Baron Hinterstoisser&lt;br /&gt;Col. Heindreich von Zeppel&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Leinbach&lt;br /&gt;and his myriad characters on The Carol Burnett Show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a talent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://content.answers.com/main/content/wp/en/thumb/b/b0/300px-Godothatvoodoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://content.answers.com/main/content/wp/en/thumb/b/b0/300px-Godothatvoodoo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Harvey. You laughed away my after school four o'clock hour in the 70s.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-1108872180613897113?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1108872180613897113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1108872180613897113' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1108872180613897113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1108872180613897113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/05/overload-and-city.html' title='Overload and the City'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-7377806901770944222</id><published>2008-05-28T20:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T20:31:09.576-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This Pose Is Getting Tired Isn't It?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SD35N_Zp1OI/AAAAAAAAAWY/Z2oTrDJoyf0/s1600-h/IMG_0848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205590763062809826" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SD35N_Zp1OI/AAAAAAAAAWY/Z2oTrDJoyf0/s400/IMG_0848.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-7377806901770944222?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/7377806901770944222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=7377806901770944222' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7377806901770944222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7377806901770944222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/05/this-pose-is-getting-tired-isnt-it.html' title='This Pose Is Getting Tired Isn&apos;t It?'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SD35N_Zp1OI/AAAAAAAAAWY/Z2oTrDJoyf0/s72-c/IMG_0848.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4531230432364034466</id><published>2008-05-23T15:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T15:35:54.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love...Exciting and New</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SDcWr_Zp1MI/AAAAAAAAAWI/iQ5R-gpRjfI/s1600-h/IMG_0843.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SDcWr_Zp1MI/AAAAAAAAAWI/iQ5R-gpRjfI/s400/IMG_0843.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203652839459116226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In love with my new car (I know you all know there will be no drinking and driving around here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SDcXxfZp1NI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/T-5J6zHOPlM/s1600-h/bump.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SDcXxfZp1NI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/T-5J6zHOPlM/s400/bump.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203654033460024530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In love with my ever increasing bump (size: Large)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.eonline.com/eol_images/Entire_Site/20061018/244.dratch.rachel.101806.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 278px;" src="http://images.eonline.com/eol_images/Entire_Site/20061018/244.dratch.rachel.101806.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In love with my shiny new clean smelling house - especially the shower...who knew the floor was white? &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;(Not really Claudia, but she kinda looks like Rachel Dratch...just replace the dress with some khakis and a t-shirt and plug in a Spanish accent - cute and adorable)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4531230432364034466?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4531230432364034466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4531230432364034466' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4531230432364034466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4531230432364034466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/05/loveexciting-and-new.html' title='Love...Exciting and New'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SDcWr_Zp1MI/AAAAAAAAAWI/iQ5R-gpRjfI/s72-c/IMG_0843.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-3405920201988319830</id><published>2008-05-22T10:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T10:28:35.178-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Gave In - Her Name Is Claudia</title><content type='html'>I have succumbed to the worst.  My husband, mother and sister-in-law all think it's the greatest idea since sliced bread, but somehow it makes me feel chapped in all the wrong places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now have a housekeeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claudia is going to come twice a week while I am pregnant and maybe once a week when I spit out the kid. I feel like I've really compromised my principles.  Is that weird?  I mean, I should really be able to take care of my own house.  I know I can, but it is just such a huge effort hauling the vacuum cleaner up and down the stairs and I'm having trouble reaching the backs of counters with this belly. The shower hasn't been cleaned in weeks. Am I lazy? Am I indulgent (feels that way).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I learn to just sit back and enjoy a clean house for 75 bucks every two weeks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will change my mind when I see/smell my sparkly house tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-3405920201988319830?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/3405920201988319830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=3405920201988319830' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3405920201988319830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3405920201988319830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-gave-in-her-name-is-claudia.html' title='I Gave In - Her Name Is Claudia'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8720006799874650103</id><published>2008-05-16T15:59:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T20:01:40.531-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's My First Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.casanovacars.com/2007/03/15/Honda%20CR-V%20Aero%20Pack%201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.casanovacars.com/2007/03/15/Honda%20CR-V%20Aero%20Pack%201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are going to pick up my BRAND NEW CAR! It's the first time I have purchased a car that doesn't need a sage burning session to rid the vehicle of other people's &lt;em&gt;Car&lt;/em&gt;ma. Very excited...so much so that I have little heartburn. Will post the Price is Right Showcase showoff pictures shortly.&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/26122438-8720006799874650103?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8720006799874650103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8720006799874650103' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8720006799874650103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8720006799874650103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/05/its-my-first-time.html' title='It&apos;s My First Time'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1756310688720474942</id><published>2008-05-14T15:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T15:37:51.968-04:00</updated><title type='text'>RUDE</title><content type='html'>Yeah. So I just experienced my first Insensitive Cow. In Publix. At the bakery. Let me start my rant by pointing out that she looked like she was fresh from the trailer, complete with bad hair under her hairnet under her bakery hat and summer teeth (some 'er here, some 'er there). And none too skinny herself there, sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insensitive Cow: " Ohhhh, a baby!  How many months are you?"&lt;br /&gt;Me (smiling): "Just finished my 6th month."&lt;br /&gt;I.C. (eyebrows raised to her very low hairline - or was it the hairnet?): "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Is that all&lt;/span&gt;?!"&lt;br /&gt;Me (giving her the hairy eyeball with no smile whatsoever): "Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pregnant" pause...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I.C.: "Oh, well, I guess it's just a while since I've been pregnant...it was a while ago.  I guess you just forget."&lt;br /&gt;Me (hairy eyeball stare continues while imagining her as a fifteen-year-old slag pregnant by her second cousin).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More pregnant pausing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I.C.: "Uhh, that guy will be right with you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her hasty exit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are people really that rude? Or are they just stupid? Or does crap just fall out of their mouth without thinking? Do they spend their lives living an uncomfortable existence, or do they get numb to their own atrociousness and just continue down their happy path spreading poo in their wake?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I'm just being too sensitive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCs_Yb6RqcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/t4Wb3erDHQ8/s1600-h/isthatall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCs_Yb6RqcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/t4Wb3erDHQ8/s400/isthatall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200319883770964418" 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/26122438-1756310688720474942?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1756310688720474942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1756310688720474942' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1756310688720474942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1756310688720474942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/05/rude.html' title='RUDE'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCs_Yb6RqcI/AAAAAAAAAV4/t4Wb3erDHQ8/s72-c/isthatall.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5786300932471278658</id><published>2008-05-08T22:15:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T22:46:21.241-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mufflings, Mohonk and Meat on the Bones</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before we actually got to Mohonk, the 'Rents visited the apartment in Brooklyn. I nearly threw up from laughing so hard at my dad slowly sinking into the inflatable (or should I say deflatable) bed. It may have been better as an "on location" moment, but here is the sequence of events nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO0nltM9MI/AAAAAAAAAU4/4vi2IbI3Bxc/s1600-h/IMG_0734.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198196987145286850" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO0nltM9MI/AAAAAAAAAU4/4vi2IbI3Bxc/s400/IMG_0734.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO04ltM9NI/AAAAAAAAAVA/mHnWwaJgib0/s1600-h/IMG_0735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198197279203062994" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO04ltM9NI/AAAAAAAAAVA/mHnWwaJgib0/s400/IMG_0735.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO1JFtM9OI/AAAAAAAAAVI/8xTP19n-sQM/s1600-h/IMG_0736.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198197562670904546" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO1JFtM9OI/AAAAAAAAAVI/8xTP19n-sQM/s400/IMG_0736.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the best weather we could have hoped for. Mohonk was delicious, in every sense of the word. The air, the views, the food...everything. A few highlights from one of our hikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO2SVtM9PI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/n0eyKeR42Gw/s1600-h/IMG_0744.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198198821096322290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO2SVtM9PI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/n0eyKeR42Gw/s400/IMG_0744.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO2mVtM9QI/AAAAAAAAAVY/eC_gP2PCIBM/s1600-h/IMG_0752.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198199164693705986" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO2mVtM9QI/AAAAAAAAAVY/eC_gP2PCIBM/s400/IMG_0752.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO281tM9RI/AAAAAAAAAVg/Z4aNF9yE1aI/s1600-h/IMG_0756.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198199551240762642" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO281tM9RI/AAAAAAAAAVg/Z4aNF9yE1aI/s400/IMG_0756.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quick pic of the growing belly. Babens is really getting down at the disco about 9:15 every night. It's freakish and creepy to see my stomach moving independently of any conscious muscle movement. Kinda Sigourney Weaver Alienish. It may take a second to load, but for those of you (Kat) who want to see it grossly enlarged, you can click on the picture. Don't say I didn't warn you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO3_1tM9SI/AAAAAAAAAVo/egqgK8-TpvM/s1600-h/IMG_0761.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198200702291997986" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO3_1tM9SI/AAAAAAAAAVo/egqgK8-TpvM/s400/IMG_0761.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Droopy boobs, 70s paisley and all, I have to share...I LOVE this dress. I have one in blue too. It's from Tar-jhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO5RltM9TI/AAAAAAAAAVw/WazNeZ4jl-c/s1600-h/IMG_0796.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198202106746303794" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO5RltM9TI/AAAAAAAAAVw/WazNeZ4jl-c/s400/IMG_0796.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's official.  I've gained 25 pounds. And I still have three months to go. I'm gonna be &lt;em&gt;enormous&lt;/em&gt;! Whoo-ah!&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/26122438-5786300932471278658?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5786300932471278658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5786300932471278658' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5786300932471278658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5786300932471278658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/05/mufflings-mohonk-and-meat-on-bones.html' title='Mufflings, Mohonk and Meat on the Bones'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SCO0nltM9MI/AAAAAAAAAU4/4vi2IbI3Bxc/s72-c/IMG_0734.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-7786119678604474180</id><published>2008-04-28T21:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T21:49:31.457-04:00</updated><title type='text'>On A Brighter Note, At Least I Have Boobs Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SBZ9sIHaT6I/AAAAAAAAAUw/5K-vL0DvAD8/s1600-h/BeneathTheWake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194477417264730018" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SBZ9sIHaT6I/AAAAAAAAAUw/5K-vL0DvAD8/s400/BeneathTheWake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's me...back when I was skinny and in shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?!" says current Lollie, "I'm in shape! Round's a shape."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just having a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's for the greater good, but I'm just feeling sorry for my ass, literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's HUGE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, ass. We used to be friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-7786119678604474180?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/7786119678604474180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=7786119678604474180' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7786119678604474180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7786119678604474180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/04/on-brighter-note-at-least-i-have-boobs.html' title='On A Brighter Note, At Least I Have Boobs Now'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SBZ9sIHaT6I/AAAAAAAAAUw/5K-vL0DvAD8/s72-c/BeneathTheWake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5535982738919038729</id><published>2008-04-23T17:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T18:08:26.114-04:00</updated><title type='text'>WhiskeyMarie, CatLady, Lollie, BabyMama</title><content type='html'>Just like WM didn't want to become the CatLady (but kinda did in her &lt;a href="http://www.whiskeymarie.com/2008/04/more-than-you-wanted-to-know-about-day.html"&gt;last post&lt;/a&gt; - sorry Whiskey), I never wanted to be the baby crazed lunatic that I've become. So yes, poor readers, this is another one that could be tagged as Baby Crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ray and I went to our first Bradley childbirthing class last Friday and Holy Grateful Dead, is Janet (not her real name...okay, yes it is) is a huge Flower Child. Just what we were not hoping for.  She lives in a very cute, sometimes affluent, neighbourhood near Palm Beach...but her house is the one on the entire block that has a neglected yard, clapboardish house (needs a lick of paint and the carport is leaning a bit), and windchimes galore. She opened the door and what was she wearing?  Say it with me now. 1, 2, 3...TIE-DYE! Ray and I introduced ourselves and simultaneously gave each other the stink eye as we passed over her threshold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were offered natural iced tea and hot air popped popcorn (could you have guessed that there wouldn't be a microwave within 40 feet of the house?).  I had to go to the can, as usual, and low and behold the credo of the casa is "If it's yellow let it mellow, if it's brown flush it down." Me? I don't care what colour it is, it's going away. Sorry Mother Earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the class was supposed to be two hours, ending at 9:30, and probably would have if we didn't get the entire low-down on Janet's life and births ("Oh and guys, here's the really neat thing. My husband filmed our last child's home birth, so we'll be watching that during class five or so. Isn't that great?" You should've seen Ray's face as he nodded almost imperceptably.). And we also learned about her math skills.  The woman can not, for the life of her, figure out how many years are between 1967 and 2008, for example. Every time a year span would come into question, Ray would spit out the answer with increasing rapidity so we could get on with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was everything we could do not to laugh out-loud when every hour, on the hour, Janet's Austrian-original wall clock broke out into a succession of cuckoo-cuckoo-cuckoos! Ray squeezed my leg so hard I still have tiny fingerprint bruises.  I think he bit the inside of his lip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after getting the Bradley introduction, reading materials and course overview, we started at 9:20 with the Bradley exercises with the promise of moving on quickly to the guided meditation and relaxation techniques. Janet told me to close my eyes while she turned down the lights, put on her sleepy voice and a Yanni meets Seaside 8-track (not really, it was a CD), and led me through a side-lying guided meditation while Ray and the 19-year-old nursing student (did I mention that she was there observing for a paper she has to write for college? Oh, and that her name was Nicky and Janet kept interspersing Jackie every other time she referred to her?), sat on the floor next to me for 20 minutes feeling &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; uncomfortable. At least Ray expressed that she just had to be feeling the same way he was, "I mean, how could you not?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended the session with really big, heart-felt hug and promises that next week wouldn't run so long but she really appreciated the extra time. We'll see if she keeps to it tonight. We go in an hour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-5535982738919038729?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5535982738919038729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5535982738919038729' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5535982738919038729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5535982738919038729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/04/whiskeymarie-catlady-lollie-babymama.html' title='WhiskeyMarie, CatLady, Lollie, BabyMama'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-3347208311650139893</id><published>2008-04-17T22:07:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T23:12:00.889-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am A Very, Very Bad Man Jerry</title><content type='html'>Okay, unintentional hiatus over.&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&gt;I had nothing much to say except pregnancy stuff (boring!) and then I went on a vacation to Cali without my computer and then when I got back I was SUPER busy catching up with work and the house and then I couldn't &lt;em&gt;find&lt;/em&gt; my computer (tucked it away somewhere "special" before I went away...under the comfy chair in the bedroom - who does that?!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anywho. Sorry to those of you who were checking and getting the same obnoxious baby picture each time you showed up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are a few highlights from my trip (Seattle to Bellingham to Vancouver to San Francisco to Napa to Oakland to West Palm Beach):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgERKSJyZI/AAAAAAAAASs/GFTCW_0lKsY/s1600-h/IMG_0536.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190403263409277330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgERKSJyZI/AAAAAAAAASs/GFTCW_0lKsY/s320/IMG_0536.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cat With A Cast. Yes sir, that is Tikvah with a broken leg. Pity this kitty doesn't know his leg is broken...he keeps jumping up and down from table to counter to chair to floor. And guess what? The leg isn't healing. Duh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgFSKSJyaI/AAAAAAAAAS0/k1xeS1VhnfE/s1600-h/IMG_0516.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190404380100774306" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgFSKSJyaI/AAAAAAAAAS0/k1xeS1VhnfE/s320/IMG_0516.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dog In Baby Carrier With Shades. Dudes, we saw six of these scenarios that day. WTF is going on? Here is my husband's immediate reaction:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgFxqSJybI/AAAAAAAAAS8/JVB_iwnsq6o/s1600-h/IMG_0517.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190404921266653618" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgFxqSJybI/AAAAAAAAAS8/JVB_iwnsq6o/s320/IMG_0517.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A side trip to Canada to see some of my ballet girls from oh, say, &lt;em&gt;20 years ago&lt;/em&gt;! Everyone looks exactly the same, except we're not in sweaty leotards and tights with baggy knees.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgHL6SJycI/AAAAAAAAATE/NxF9yrLUH70/s1600-h/IMG_0547.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190406471749847490" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgHL6SJycI/AAAAAAAAATE/NxF9yrLUH70/s320/IMG_0547.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmmkay, how cute are these two little monkeys? Ladies and Gents, meet the Twin Godbabies Remy and Nate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgISqSJydI/AAAAAAAAATM/ji7yvPbgZYM/s1600-h/IMG_0579.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190407687225592274" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgISqSJydI/AAAAAAAAATM/ji7yvPbgZYM/s320/IMG_0579.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgIjKSJyeI/AAAAAAAAATU/4Q7BjwHMtIw/s1600-h/IMG_0583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190407970693433826" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgIjKSJyeI/AAAAAAAAATU/4Q7BjwHMtIw/s320/IMG_0583.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could just get a large spoon and eat them both. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Bay Bridge from our hotel room in The Embarcadero. Just moments earlier, the sun was shining so brightly that we couldn't even see between the buildings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgJh6SJyfI/AAAAAAAAATc/8O2qAxA4K9c/s1600-h/IMG_0596.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190409048730225138" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgJh6SJyfI/AAAAAAAAATc/8O2qAxA4K9c/s320/IMG_0596.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napa: A Room...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgKcqSJygI/AAAAAAAAATk/TOzWNgJBaIs/s1600-h/IMG_0610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190410058047539714" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgKcqSJygI/AAAAAAAAATk/TOzWNgJBaIs/s320/IMG_0610.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With A View&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgLB6SJyhI/AAAAAAAAATs/5hddakbFrXs/s1600-h/IMG_0609.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190410697997666834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgLB6SJyhI/AAAAAAAAATs/5hddakbFrXs/s320/IMG_0609.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ray had a great suggestion. Our lunch at Auberge de Soliel was so lovely and serene that he said we needed to make this our "Happy Place, " the place we need to go to when the munchkin is screaming his/her head off at 2:30 am and we want to escape. I think I may go here often...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgM76SJyiI/AAAAAAAAAT0/BYfgtaz--EA/s1600-h/IMG_0640.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190412793941707298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgM76SJyiI/AAAAAAAAAT0/BYfgtaz--EA/s320/IMG_0640.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This side of the road diner has The Best White Pistachio Ice Cream In The World. Period. We went a number of times. I couldn't stay away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgOM6SJyjI/AAAAAAAAAT8/z0eAa_CEUtk/s1600-h/IMG_0654.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190414185511111218" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgOM6SJyjI/AAAAAAAAAT8/z0eAa_CEUtk/s320/IMG_0654.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glorious folks I used to dance with at Oakland Ballet back in it's glory days (late 80s, early 90s).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgPCqSJykI/AAAAAAAAAUE/yvyISzJ-8YM/s1600-h/IMG_0667.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190415108929079874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgPCqSJykI/AAAAAAAAAUE/yvyISzJ-8YM/s320/IMG_0667.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of the fab holiday with an even fabber guy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgP-qSJylI/AAAAAAAAAUM/7vAG0qXypiQ/s1600-h/IMG_0679.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190416139721230930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgP-qSJylI/AAAAAAAAAUM/7vAG0qXypiQ/s320/IMG_0679.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-3347208311650139893?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/3347208311650139893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=3347208311650139893' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3347208311650139893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3347208311650139893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-am-very-very-bad-man-jerry.html' title='I Am A Very, Very Bad Man Jerry'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/SAgERKSJyZI/AAAAAAAAASs/GFTCW_0lKsY/s72-c/IMG_0536.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2658488821557658294</id><published>2008-03-28T20:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T21:04:23.851-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Worlds Apart</title><content type='html'>Picture this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cozy couple, snugged up on what is lovingly referred to as the ComfyCouch, a plush, gooshy two-seater made for lovin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trolling iTunes for some baby music, a lullaby or twelve if you will, so that our child can drift off into unfitful slumber as soon as possible (fingers, toes, and anything else that will, crossed).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://content.answers.com/main/content/img/amg/pop_albums/2/9/l/f29307dwslv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 226px" height="252" alt="" src="http://content.answers.com/main/content/img/amg/pop_albums/2/9/l/f29307dwslv.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And My Guy, volume at near max, killing aliens and assorted villains on Resistance Fall of Man, smacking his thigh and swearing like a sailor every time he gets demolished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://uk.gizmodo.com/resistance-fall-of-man1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://uk.gizmodo.com/resistance-fall-of-man1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What? It's close to romantic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-2658488821557658294?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2658488821557658294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2658488821557658294' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2658488821557658294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2658488821557658294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/03/two-worlds-apart.html' title='Two Worlds Apart'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-7469871108032145154</id><published>2008-03-25T11:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T11:58:21.081-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Huzzah!</title><content type='html'>Looks like everything is tickety-boo with the babens and the host. Just got back from the perinatologist and the marginal placenta previa has gone away, the baby is weighing in a one pound, and bones and organs are measuring perfectly - best of all, we don't have to go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, StubbornBaby wouldn't get in the "traditional" position for an ultrasound profile picture, so the nurse took a quick 3D picture.  Umm, creepy.  He/she looks like a clay baby, or something not quite cooked from Star Trek. Have a look for yourself.  My guy asked that we not do that again. I agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R-khBEpHU7I/AAAAAAAAASk/F2MtP-fqPfo/s1600-h/3D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R-khBEpHU7I/AAAAAAAAASk/F2MtP-fqPfo/s400/3D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181709148576240562" 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/26122438-7469871108032145154?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/7469871108032145154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=7469871108032145154' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7469871108032145154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/7469871108032145154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/03/huzzah.html' title='Huzzah!'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R-khBEpHU7I/AAAAAAAAASk/F2MtP-fqPfo/s72-c/3D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8750543857068629106</id><published>2008-03-24T21:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T21:17:19.004-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sticky Situation</title><content type='html'>So I have Book Club on Wednesday night. Kinda not looking forward to it. Here's my dilemma:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book was chosen by one of the girls - an old coworker of hers wrote this month's book titled &lt;em&gt;Why Jews Don't Camp. &lt;/em&gt;And he is going to join the discussion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I hate the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a self-published piece of unfunny, racist, &lt;em&gt;seemingly&lt;/em&gt; unedited (are you listening Ms. Bad EditorPants?) drivel that prides itself on zero timing and annoyingly repetitive phrases. What. The hell. Am I going. To say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I, uh, liked the reason you wrote the book - let's talk about that and only that for two hours, mkay?" (His friend got breast cancer and he wrote a chapter a week to cheer her up during her chemo treatments. Frankly, the chemo must have been a cakewalk next to the torture of weekly chapters. Hmm, maybe this guy could've been on to some sort of alternative treatment- perhaps a sort of reverse psychology...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's just sooo bad, you guys. And I found out today that one of our ladies really loved the book. Thought it was the funniest thing.  I'm going to seriously reassess my feelings for her now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will tell you all about it on Thursday. In the meantime, wish me luck for tomorrow.  Hopefully it's my last appointment with the Old Pregnant Lady Specialist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8750543857068629106?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8750543857068629106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8750543857068629106' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8750543857068629106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8750543857068629106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/03/sticky-situation.html' title='Sticky Situation'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5520310361882559950</id><published>2008-03-20T20:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T21:02:25.342-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Perfect Opportunity...Missed</title><content type='html'>So I went and met my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;girlfriend&lt;/span&gt; yesterday for drinks (lemonade - we're both &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;preggers&lt;/span&gt;) at City Place in West Palm Beach.  The attendant in the lot didn't have anything other than ones and I didn't have anything smaller than a twenty.  It was a two dollar charge, so she shelled out eighteen singles and I was on my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to surprise My Guy for lunch today so I stopped at Mickey D's for burgers to go. I pulled up to the payment window after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;placing&lt;/span&gt; the order and it was around eleven bucks and change so I whipped out my fat bankroll and counted off twelve singles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What she said: "Oh, ha ha, are you a waitress?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I didn't say: "No, a stripper."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dammit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-5520310361882559950?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5520310361882559950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5520310361882559950' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5520310361882559950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5520310361882559950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/03/perfect-opportunitymissed.html' title='A Perfect Opportunity...Missed'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-9096522874468757902</id><published>2008-03-16T16:42:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T12:39:53.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Probably Wouldn't Put This Profession On The Short List</title><content type='html'>So, if you're a germophobe, living in the Big Apple, what would you say would be one of the least favourable jobs you'd want to undertake? I think right there on the list with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Collections - Recycling, Sanitation Department&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inspections - Food Services, Vermin Department&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Registered Nurse - Bellevue Mental Institution, Fecal Obsession Ward&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teacher - Tots and Toddlers Daycare, Bring Them Even If They're Snotty &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pipe Maintenance - Waste Management, Sewage Department&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;would be &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Driver - New York City Yellow Cab, Manhattan Proper.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I couldn't believe my eyes when I looked at our driver through the sneeze-guard like, Lucite half-barrier. He was holding the steering wheel, one-handed, always one-handed, with a what looked like 4-hour-old fast food napkin. I say approximately 4 hours because it was damp, wrinkled and slightly torn in the most contacted part of the paper. How could I see that if he had it firmly clamped between his skin and the worn leather skin of the wheel? Every time he signaled or put it in neutral with the shifter, he'd lift the napkin delicately, but speedily, and place it on the needed apparatus. And the guy signaled every single time he engaged in a dangerous move, sneaking in front of other angry impatient cabbies and clueless losers who shouldn't be allowed to drive in the city.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was as if I was watching a San Francisco street performer juggling handkerchiefs at mach speed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Upon further inspection, I realized the dude was sitting on the requisite wooden beaded car seat with a sheet of plastic between his pants and the offending (oak? ash? whatever) cover. First thought: slippery. Second thought: sweaty!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And to top it all off, I peeked around the corner and saw that his back was being supported with a tatty pillow...covered in a plastic Whole Foods bag.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, honestly. If you have an obviously major problem with germs, would you have said yes to this job? A job where hacking, coughing people from all walks of life, drug addicts, whores, teens with over active hormones, degenerates, babies, people who like to lick things, etc. hang out in your extremely confined space all day long and hand you dollar bills which may or may not be diseased all on their very own? I say no. No!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In addition, if you look very carefully, he has one of those knotted string bracelets on. It is old and frayed and I'm willing to bet, if it was tested, probably had more germs on it than a toilet seat in Grand Central Station.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R92QXzveYCI/AAAAAAAAASc/2W8Kh4giTOw/s1600-h/germy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178453885246660642" style="" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R92QXzveYCI/AAAAAAAAASc/2W8Kh4giTOw/s400/germy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-9096522874468757902?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/9096522874468757902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=9096522874468757902' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/9096522874468757902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/9096522874468757902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-probably-wouldnt-put-this-profession.html' title='I Probably Wouldn&apos;t Put This Profession On The Short List'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R92QXzveYCI/AAAAAAAAASc/2W8Kh4giTOw/s72-c/germy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8571160864756761617</id><published>2008-03-15T09:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T13:56:15.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost at 20 Weeks - More Tummy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9vVTzveX9I/AAAAAAAAAR0/IPRnIYPR9mE/s1600-h/Late_Feb_Belly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177966732876079058" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9vVTzveX9I/AAAAAAAAAR0/IPRnIYPR9mE/s320/Late_Feb_Belly.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mind - this is a few weeks old...I'm a bit bigger now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still waiting for the first movement. I can't bring myself to use the word "quickening" - it freaks me out. Kinda sounds like the title to a horror flick. But all my pregger buddies have felt kicks and squirms - even their husbands have!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jealous!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mmmmkay - I was feeling like a fraud, so I took another picture a minute ago and here is the new me (or should I say us?).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9wNYjveYAI/AAAAAAAAASM/6VWNqLjhI1w/s1600-h/19Weeks3Days.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178028387131613186" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9wNYjveYAI/AAAAAAAAASM/6VWNqLjhI1w/s400/19Weeks3Days.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/26122438-8571160864756761617?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8571160864756761617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8571160864756761617' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8571160864756761617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8571160864756761617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/03/almost-at-20-weeks-more-tummy.html' title='Almost at 20 Weeks - More Tummy'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9vVTzveX9I/AAAAAAAAAR0/IPRnIYPR9mE/s72-c/Late_Feb_Belly.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1619088515410617626</id><published>2008-03-13T16:42:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T17:02:26.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Obvious I'm Obsessed</title><content type='html'>...or maybe it's just because I am spending so much time in the can lately (pregnancy peeing is like the never-ending story).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had to share these with you - and no I was not perverted enough to do this while someone was in there with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click on this image to get a bigger, better idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9mS8TveX6I/AAAAAAAAARc/KcPBKr323iA/s1600-h/IMG_0490.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177330811428298658" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9mS8TveX6I/AAAAAAAAARc/KcPBKr323iA/s200/IMG_0490.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Okay, so you can see your own under parts...big deal right? Not if there is someone next to you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9mTtDveX7I/AAAAAAAAARk/NblC1xoKnd0/s1600-h/IMG_0491.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177331648946921394" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9mTtDveX7I/AAAAAAAAARk/NblC1xoKnd0/s200/IMG_0491.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or if there happens to be someone waiting for the next available stall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9mVUjveX8I/AAAAAAAAARs/nbxvRVZftL0/s1600-h/IMG_0492.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177333427063381954" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9mVUjveX8I/AAAAAAAAARs/nbxvRVZftL0/s200/IMG_0492.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I right or am I right?!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ps (I wonder if Larry Craig could have benefited from this particular bathroom design...?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;pps (which leads me another question: If a gay man is looking at his mirror image in this flooring, would his doppelganger be straight?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-1619088515410617626?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1619088515410617626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1619088515410617626' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1619088515410617626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1619088515410617626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-obvious-im-obsessed.html' title='It&apos;s Obvious I&apos;m Obsessed'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R9mS8TveX6I/AAAAAAAAARc/KcPBKr323iA/s72-c/IMG_0490.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5501903315340551137</id><published>2008-03-12T14:26:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T12:49:29.667-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I Ask A Question?</title><content type='html'>Should shiny, shiny, mirror-reflective black tile be allowed on the floor of a public bathroom? I'm working out of My Guy's office in Manhattan, and the Ladies here (and assume the Gents too) has this very inappropriate flooring material that basically says "Hi! I'm sitting next to you, also looking at the floor looking at you, looking at me and wondering, can you really see me as well as I can see you? And wow, don't you use a lot of toilet paper? Kind of resembles a bee-hive doesn't it. Three wipes? Wow, now four - kind of OCD there, eh? No, I don't really want to look, but I need to make sure that you're not really looking at me, and trust me sister, I am not making a move in here until you are gone and can no longer look up my skirt, nostrils or vagina."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, that is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-5501903315340551137?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5501903315340551137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5501903315340551137' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5501903315340551137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5501903315340551137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/03/can-i-ask-question_12.html' title='Can I Ask A Question?'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-3980856561048223471</id><published>2008-02-25T14:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T14:39:57.729-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Niblet Has Been Profiled</title><content type='html'>17 weeks - and still stubborn. Wouldn't get into the right position for the ultrasound tech. She told me to get dressed, hit the can, and jump around a bit to get him/her to change position. Here's what we got...we didn't even need to be careful about looking in the WhatGenderAreYou region. Legs were tightly crossed barring any viewing.  Modest little bugger...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.rayandlara.com/graphics/blog/usat17weeks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.rayandlara.com/graphics/blog/usat17weeks.jpg" alt="" 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/26122438-3980856561048223471?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/3980856561048223471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=3980856561048223471' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3980856561048223471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3980856561048223471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/02/niblet-has-been-profiled.html' title='The Niblet Has Been Profiled'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4924873003091251472</id><published>2008-02-22T09:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T10:11:49.438-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Laptop Blew Up</title><content type='html'>So yeah - I got a fatal error on my laptop so it has to go to the hospital. I'm being bad and taking time out of work to post. Don't tell anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got pulled over for speeding yesterday and I'm pretty sure the baby and I are going to Hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We we're rushing back (aka driving as I normally do) from the conference in Orlando because I wanted to get home, see My Guy and eat a steak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E sees the Copper before I do and tells me I better slow down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He whipped a bitch, clicked on the cherries and took off after me. I stop, knowing I'm caught (only after a  second of contemplation...maybe I could get off at the next exit and lose him with some crafty moves? But then a vision of COPS went through my head. Working for me: I was in Florida. Not working for me: I was wearing a shirt and I certainly wasn't drunk, so the equation didn't fly.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After E asked me to roll all the windows down (we were in my brother's car which has illegally tinted windows), I did what I thought I would never do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled the pregnant card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Brim and Aviators: "Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yes Officer, I'm sorry, I know I was speeding...but I'm pregnant and I really need to pee! I know it's not an excuse to speed, but..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Brim and Aviators: "License and registration."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Fuck)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went back to the disco car and proceeded to look me up - and then he was writing something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Fuckfuck)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: "Don't worry, I'm sending over Warning Karma."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Forget it - I'm getting a ticket - I was doing 88 in a 70."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: "Trust me. It'll be a warning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BB&amp;amp;A sauntered back to the car with ticket in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Brim and Aviators: "How many months are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "4 months."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbelievably, BB&amp;amp;A sticks his big brim and aviators into E's window to get a better look at my stomach! I immediately push it out as I see him start the dive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: "She just tiny."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I love that girl.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Brim and Aviators: "Well, I'm giving you a warning..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Brim and Aviators: "...but I need you to slow down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yes, Officer. Of course."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for show I got off at the next exit to fake a pee stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't really need to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe my version of Hell will be needing to constantly pee while being endlessly pulled over my the Devil in a Big Brim with Aviators:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4924873003091251472?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4924873003091251472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4924873003091251472' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4924873003091251472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4924873003091251472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-laptop-blew-up.html' title='My Laptop Blew Up'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-5679307308854167621</id><published>2008-02-16T08:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T15:28:47.251-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, And...</title><content type='html'>For those of you who care: if anyone is in town, or would like to plan a vacation to sunny Florida in the dogged heat of June, please let me know - I'd love to meet and have you come to my Baby Shower, currently planned for Saturday the 21st. Just taking the temperature here...official invites will be going out through my fabulous sister in law, Elizabeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I welcome one blogger and all. Though I won't be drinking, there will be plenty of it! Just sayin'. (Whiskey, bring your &lt;a href="http://whatyouthinkitis.blogspot.com/2008/02/give-girl-computer-shell-show-you-world.html"&gt;shockingly pink anti-kryptonite concoction&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...or we can have something like zees!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hostessblog.com/uploaded_images/pinky_vodka.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.hostessblog.com/uploaded_images/pinky_vodka.jpg" alt="" 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/26122438-5679307308854167621?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/5679307308854167621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=5679307308854167621' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5679307308854167621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/5679307308854167621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/02/oh-and.html' title='Oh, And...'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4924019038236488312</id><published>2008-02-15T20:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T20:48:42.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Beer Gut</title><content type='html'>Alright, I'm ready to expose myself. The belly has popped and I have to admit - I'm kind of reveling in it. It's so great to be fat and have an excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R7Y_v3feVwI/AAAAAAAAARM/FdKuFviPTo0/s1600-h/IMG_0195.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R7Y_v3feVwI/AAAAAAAAARM/FdKuFviPTo0/s320/IMG_0195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167387714036586242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who knew me as Skinny Minnie, Slim, Pixie Stix and/or Hey Is That Girl Anorexic?, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;eat cake&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now Poochie Mama, Bubble Belly, Gutsy and/or Hey Does That Girl Have Major Gas?, and I'm loving it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4924019038236488312?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4924019038236488312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4924019038236488312' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4924019038236488312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4924019038236488312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/02/nice-beer-gut.html' title='Nice Beer Gut'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R7Y_v3feVwI/AAAAAAAAARM/FdKuFviPTo0/s72-c/IMG_0195.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2016807847449367692</id><published>2008-02-11T15:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T15:51:00.087-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Didn't Anyone Warn Me?</title><content type='html'>No one said being knocked up might come with a giant side of massive heartburn. Umm, how do I make this go away? I'm afraid to eat. Even bland, white food makes me sear with tubal throat pain. I may have to sleep sitting up ala the Elephant Man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this a phase? Please say yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-2016807847449367692?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2016807847449367692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2016807847449367692' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2016807847449367692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2016807847449367692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-didnt-anyone-warn-me.html' title='Why Didn&apos;t Anyone Warn Me?'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8210797467607469724</id><published>2008-02-08T14:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T14:49:10.454-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Me Some cK</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Email string, today at work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cK: Did I tell you I went to a rodeo last weekend? And that  tonight I'm going to a martini luge?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: A martini luge?! How awesome!  Pictures?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cK: I hope to get 'em! I'd never even heard of this thing.  Apparently they have a luge course-like ice sculpture down which they pour your  mixed martini to chill it. You catch it in your glass. I fully expect this evening to be drunk on $20 and in just  20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'm only slightly disappointed...I thought  &lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt; were going to slide on a martini filled luge...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cK: Hey, after  a couple of those things, you just don't know where I'll end  up....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8210797467607469724?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8210797467607469724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8210797467607469724' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8210797467607469724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8210797467607469724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-love-me-some-ck.html' title='I Love Me Some cK'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4746099411154454899</id><published>2008-02-07T12:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T12:12:24.712-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SORRY - I Feel Like A Heel (But A Smooth One!)</title><content type='html'>I've been a total fart about updating the blog lately.  I'm lazy.  Well,  not really.  I've been traveling and trying to get my increasingly fat ass/stomach into the gym at night and then I'm just too exhausted to do anything else but sloth on the couch in a state of half-alert comaness. And ask My Guy to bring me things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of My Guy...it was his birthday yesterday. I wanted him (after taking a peek at his hobbit feet) to feel the glory of a pedicure, so that was part of his present last night. "Alright," he said to my brother, "apparently, your sister wanted to make me gay for my birthday!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the good news. He wants to write about the experience and guest blog on The Follies! I'm going to nag him all night until it is written.  Soon to be posted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4746099411154454899?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4746099411154454899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4746099411154454899' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4746099411154454899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4746099411154454899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/02/sorry-i-feel-like-heel-but-smooth-one.html' title='SORRY - I Feel Like A Heel (But A Smooth One!)'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4792151969432383308</id><published>2008-01-27T20:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T17:10:27.267-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Went On A Date The Other Night...</title><content type='html'>...with my brothers and 18 of their closest over 35 hockey team buddies! Sasha is one year older and Lexi is three years younger.  Here's the poo on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sibs&lt;/span&gt;. Sash has been mistaken for Tom Cruise (in his non-crazy younger days) and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lex&lt;/span&gt; looks like a better, gentler not so conceited or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;steroided&lt;/span&gt; version of Fabio (at least he used to when his hair was long). This has nothing to do with my post, but I wanted you all to have a visual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew this was going to be an interesting night when we loaded a chock full beer cooler into the car and no one, I repeat no one - besides me - including the cop who was driving dug into the consuming on the Turnpike. I wanted out of the car for a hot moment (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;umm&lt;/span&gt;, precious cargo, hello?) when I realized what was going down, but then for some reason I intuitively understood that this was par for the course and not particularly out of the ordinary. Would the cop get out of it if pulled over? Is this how things work in the brotherhood? I didn't know, but we got there safely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only after commenting about the "homeless" fat guy on the entrance to the Turnpike.&lt;br /&gt;Tom the Cop: "Yep, that dude must be starving to death."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And laughing at the 6 people staring at their golf cart that had tipped into the canal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were only two minutes into the trip and I felt like I was a fly on the wall in a men's locker room. They seriously forgot I was there, until Bob berated Lexi for belching and possibly offending my sensibilities...until I answered him with a huge self induced burp of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we pulled into the VIP parking lot and I had to wait until all 5 of them had peed in the bushes before we could go in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Oilers&lt;/span&gt;/Panthers hockey game. When we lived in Edmonton, we were all die hard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Oilers&lt;/span&gt;/Gretzky fans in the 80s, so there was no question as to where our loyalties lay. A friend of ours is with Budweiser, so we hung out and ate and drank in the Bud Suite and the four of us (3 + 1 neighbour Joey) were granted the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;1st row seats, kissing the glass right next to the goalie&lt;/span&gt;!!  Holy crap, were these awesome seats. I have never been so close to sweating, grunting, gargantuan men, intent on crushing the living snot out of each other while literally performing ballet moves on ice (with an added puck-seeking appendage).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 seconds into the game, a Panther got smeared on the boards right in front of us. It was awesome. Not so awesome was the goal he scored not 45 seconds later. The long and short of it is that this was THE most exciting game Ive ever seen - on TV or in person. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Oilers&lt;/span&gt; were down 2 goals with just over two minutes to go and they tied it up. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Lex&lt;/span&gt; jumped up at every opportunity and waved his Canadian flag all over the place. Joe was so excited that he was going to be able to see something he'd never seen before - a shootout - that he nearly knocked over the glass when the time ran out. We laughed and laughed until one of us was able to squeak out that we still had to get through 5 minutes of overtime before a shootout could happen. Poor guy was crushed, but that soon dissipated when it was still tied at the close of the 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shootout commenced. Edmonton got two by the third round and it was all over but the glass banging! I have never had such a good time with my boys. It was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, despite crawling up the ass of a State Trooper,  we didn't get pulled over on the way home either!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4792151969432383308?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4792151969432383308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4792151969432383308' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4792151969432383308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4792151969432383308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-went-on-date-other-night.html' title='I Went On A Date The Other Night...'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4705442189723620998</id><published>2008-01-25T11:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T11:11:53.655-05:00</updated><title type='text'>12 Week Ultrasound</title><content type='html'>This is a better picture of the niblet - taken on Wednesday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R5oKCHXcQCI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/bBnQ7fuK0no/s1600-h/ultrasound_12_weeks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R5oKCHXcQCI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/bBnQ7fuK0no/s400/ultrasound_12_weeks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159447354559709218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His/her hand is on the forehead as if to say, "Umm could you get out of here? I have a headache...sheesh."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4705442189723620998?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4705442189723620998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4705442189723620998' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4705442189723620998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4705442189723620998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/01/12-week-ultrasound.html' title='12 Week Ultrasound'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R5oKCHXcQCI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/bBnQ7fuK0no/s72-c/ultrasound_12_weeks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4673293960821365291</id><published>2008-01-23T19:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T19:54:44.329-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cat is Now Sprawling Out of the Bag</title><content type='html'>Okay, so it's the 23rd, and I'm done waiting. Some of you may have already read this elsewhere, but here goes y'all:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm PREGNANT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R5fhWHXcQAI/AAAAAAAAAQk/blZPY-6-OoU/s1600-h/IMG_0074.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R5fhWHXcQAI/AAAAAAAAAQk/blZPY-6-OoU/s400/IMG_0074.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158839668226932738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy Kegel it feels good to get that out. I feel like I've been pretty lame with the posts for the last three months and it's mainly because I've been:&lt;br /&gt;a) obsessed with everything baby - from making to keeping, to learning and observing - feeling like everything else kind of came in a lame second&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;2) wanting to post about it, but needing to keep it on the down low&lt;br /&gt;as well as&lt;br /&gt;c) be too frigging tired to post anything at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No morning sickness at all, no cravings, no food aversions. If I didn't have these boobs and this little pooch, I wouldn't even know I was pregnant.  Umm, that's a total lie. I'm also tired, starving all the time, enjoying water (WTF? I know!!), peeing in the middle of the night and farting up a storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, baby (aka niblet) and I spent half an hour together today with the ultrasound tech - apparently the little one has inherited both parents' stubborn genes (Go Irish!) and was determined not to get into the desired position for measurements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're tossing names around right now (we're looking into both as we're not going to find out before he/she is born)...any suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-4673293960821365291?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4673293960821365291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4673293960821365291' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4673293960821365291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4673293960821365291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/01/cat-is-now-sprawling-out-of-bag.html' title='The Cat is Now Sprawling Out of the Bag'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R5fhWHXcQAI/AAAAAAAAAQk/blZPY-6-OoU/s72-c/IMG_0074.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-3566463161089142518</id><published>2008-01-17T21:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T21:43:54.571-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Can Never Be Too Rich or Too Thin</title><content type='html'>Well folks, I'm here to tell you that you can - on both counts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the opening night of the Joffery Ballet last night. In Palm Beach - well West Palm Beach really, but the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous crossed the dreaded Intracoastal and slummed for the night on the other side of the tracks. Let me just say, there is nothing slummy about the Kravis Center - it is a stunning theatre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So My Guy and I went to Ruth's Chris across the way and had a lovely, albeit slightly rushed meal (we thought the ballet started at 8, and when on a whim, we looked at the tickets and realized that it started at 7!). Petite Filet and the Bone in Ribeye! Stat! While we were sitting there, we started to notice several of the other patrons were quite well to do. We were surrounded by finely clad women, men in tuxes, and both were dripping with jewels. Outside, arm candies in fur (yes, even in the Florida heat) walked cozily with overly tanned, much older men. Bentleys, Jags and Porches abounded at the valet. Yep, this was High Palm Beach Society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the riper ladies, oh, the I Will Never Admit My Age Ladies. I've never seen so much young hair sitting on top of so many old women. Earring were perched in front of earlobes where multiple surgery scars were playing Hide and Please Don't Seek. Women who had to look down their noses because to lower the chin would be an invitation to expose sagging neck skin. We saw a socialite whose eyebrows had been lifted so many times she seriously looked like a scary clown. Why do these people want to constantly look surprised? I don't get it. And what the lady next to us didn't get was an ass. You know the back profile I'm talking about...affectionately referred to a Avalanche Ass - the one where the shoulder blades are the farthest protruding protuberance of the dorsal side of Homo Erectus Femalius.  Palm Beach! Listen Up! We don't like that look! Eat a flippin' burger! Get some meat on your toucus, badonkadonk is in. Trust.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-3566463161089142518?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/3566463161089142518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=3566463161089142518' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3566463161089142518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3566463161089142518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/01/you-can-never-be-too-rich-or-too-thin.html' title='You Can Never Be Too Rich or Too Thin'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-6658830708104139291</id><published>2008-01-14T15:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T15:35:38.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why. Why?</title><content type='html'>Why is it that on the day I ask, and get permission, to go from 40 hours a week to 30 does one of our websites blowup and make me stay longer than I should be? Why?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-6658830708104139291?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/6658830708104139291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=6658830708104139291' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6658830708104139291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6658830708104139291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/01/why-why.html' title='Why. Why?'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2854235806971186144</id><published>2008-01-13T15:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T15:47:56.282-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Exactly As Planned</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4p43hh8kZI/AAAAAAAAAQM/4NhTN6eYFGY/s1600-h/Untitled-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4p43hh8kZI/AAAAAAAAAQM/4NhTN6eYFGY/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155065618767843730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't call it a bust, but the "day of love" took a hard left somewhere in the middle of the exhibit...or was it at the restaurant? Or the second restaurant? Or the did it do it because of the weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The turn in the romantic action happened in the third section of the Bodies exhibit.  We were happily listening to the soothing voice of the audio tour when suddenly, between the respiratory showcase (lungs, hearts, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;alveoli&lt;/span&gt;, etc.) and the reproductive room (embryos, fetuses, breast tissue and uterine tumors of every size and shape - including one the size of a basketball that, yes, when invited to peek inside, involved teeth, hair and the beginnings of an eyeball!!), I started to feel a bit woozy. Did I not have enough to eat for breakfast, or was it just threatening to come back up? A black shroud encompassed my peripheral vision and I knew that I was about to do a face plant into the aorta display. Luckily, we were just passing the only bench in the entire joint, so I sat, took a few deep breaths and pulled out my emergency bag of trail mix. This &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;always &lt;/span&gt;happens to me in museums! The last time was three years ago in Manhattan at the fashion exhibit of the maven who wore the big round black glasses and paired weirdly fabulous things together  - oh crap, hr name is escaping me right now... anyway - I nearly hit the dirt there too. I think it's the dark rooms, the standing in one place for a while, the locked knees. I need to order a wheelchair the next time I plan to visit any sort of art display.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we got through that okay, after a brief rest. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ps&lt;/span&gt; - the human body, when sliced into 100 separate pieces, really does resemble a ham steak. Just so you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were done sooner than I thought we would be, so we headed to Blue Moon a little earlier than expected. At 12:15 our 1:45 reservation just could not be handled in any way shape or form until after the 1:30 people had been seated, so we'd have to come back. I just caught Ray in time before the valet dude stole away with the Mini, so we jumped back in a debated over what to do. Find a Barnes and Noble, read and hit the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;coffebar&lt;/span&gt; for a hot minute ? Couldn't find one nearby. Go for a drink at another waterside bar (couldn't find one either). Say screw it, head back in the direction of home and hit Oceans 234 for lunch? After I pouted briefly, I said &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a little turned around (read: lost) and finally found the place. We were seated immediately (relief) right next to the waiter station (hell no). The hostess hemmed and hawed about timing and waitresses and just could not understand that I didn't want to sit near the station and could she find another table (there were several around). She was dense. I eventually forewent my usual politeness, looked her dead in the eye and said "I don't want to sit here." She led us to a delightful table for two near the edge of the restaurant, a table that still had a really nice view, a said that we'd need to wait a bit for a server because she just sat two big tables in her section. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Happily&lt;/span&gt;, she showed up immediately and we had a nice meal. Anniversary crisis averted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next crisis to avert was the weather. We made it through the meal no problem, but right before I mentioned going to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Morikami&lt;/span&gt; Gardens, a deluge dumped down on us &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lik&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;e it&lt;/span&gt; was about to rain for 40 days ad 40 nights. I kept my mouth shut to avoid anymore disappointment and headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are, home in the middle of the day of love, me, downstairs on the green couch, fighting to stay awake to watch the gore and suspense of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seven, &lt;/span&gt;Ray, upstairs killing zombies on his new PS3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not exactly as I planned, but Happy Anniversary honey!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-2854235806971186144?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2854235806971186144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2854235806971186144' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2854235806971186144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2854235806971186144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/01/not-exactly-as-planned.html' title='Not Exactly As Planned'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4p43hh8kZI/AAAAAAAAAQM/4NhTN6eYFGY/s72-c/Untitled-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2900128535556666685</id><published>2008-01-12T20:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T21:12:31.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Crap, Where Did The Time Go?</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is our 2 year anniversary. I can't really believe that we've been hitched for that amount of time, but then, it feels like we've been together forever and it's just perfect that way. I've always guffawed at the concept of having a soulmate, it's like the ultimate sappy sentence..."He's my soulmate." Bleah. But I heard it again today on NPR when a muslim woman was talking about her husband on This American Life and I thought to myself, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dammit, Ray &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;is &lt;/span&gt;my soulmate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of circumstances beyond my control, our weekend of celebrating was kiboshed - today was kind of a crap, nothing day, so I hopped on the old laptop, made some inquiries and we are having a full day of fun in Ft Lauderdale tomorrow.  First we head out bright and early (after I fix him breakfast in bed - very wifey, I know) to the Bodies exhibit - something we've been wanting to do for a while now. I just learned that the exhibit is of real, preserved bodies, not plastic replicas, so it should be a wonderful wind up to the all you can eat brunch at the Blue Moon Fish Company on the water at 1:45. Rare prime rib anyone? Then I thought if we had enough energy, we could hit The Morikami Gardens and check out the bonzai trees in the daylight (last time we were there was in the dead (no pun intended) of night when we were doing the lantern lighting for the Festival of the Dead. I'll cook something gorgeous for dinner (saucy and porky). I think that sounds like a lovely day. N'est pas?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-2900128535556666685?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2900128535556666685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2900128535556666685' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2900128535556666685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2900128535556666685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/01/holy-crap-where-did-time-go.html' title='Holy Crap, Where Did The Time Go?'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-6871600210519327506</id><published>2008-01-07T18:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T19:10:22.662-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Photo Log Catch Up</title><content type='html'>So I had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pantload&lt;/span&gt; of pictures in my old camera and quite another even larger &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pantload&lt;/span&gt; in my new non-ghetto no elastic holding the battery port shut camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures and captions from the last few months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K1aBh8kNI/AAAAAAAAAOs/DwyQlCB1Mes/s1600-h/DSC03983.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K1aBh8kNI/AAAAAAAAAOs/DwyQlCB1Mes/s320/DSC03983.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152880382357311698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;T-shirt I painted for &lt;a href="http://hulles.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hulles&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;(I'm only linking you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hulles&lt;/span&gt; in the hope that you have updated your blog you busy man you).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K2fRh8kOI/AAAAAAAAAO0/CyOO1eBkZZU/s1600-h/DSC04088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K2fRh8kOI/AAAAAAAAAO0/CyOO1eBkZZU/s320/DSC04088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152881572063252706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stockings and donuts in bed on Christmas morning - what could be better than that?  Maybe a shot of Happy Birthday Jesus rum in a cup of coffee?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K3PBh8kPI/AAAAAAAAAO8/heYu0cNRP2I/s1600-h/IMG_0001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K3PBh8kPI/AAAAAAAAAO8/heYu0cNRP2I/s320/IMG_0001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152882392402006258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The very first picture taken with my new camera - Portrait of the Vampire Pedicure (not only is the red nearly black, but this hot-damn &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pedi&lt;/span&gt; is everlasting - I've had this for almost a month and it still looks fresh, no?! I wonder if the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;OPI&lt;/span&gt; colour I picked was called "The Undead"). Note the ghetto camera with the blue elastic band...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K4URh8kQI/AAAAAAAAAPE/lges6r4yxoM/s1600-h/IMG_0016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K4URh8kQI/AAAAAAAAAPE/lges6r4yxoM/s320/IMG_0016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152883582107947266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Think of me y'all on Wednesday night, Jan 16&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; - I'll be getting a dose of culture courtesy of My Guy and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Joffery&lt;/span&gt; Ballet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Just a quick aside...have any of you watched Rome? We just got through season one and are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;salivating &lt;/span&gt;for more. The last two episodes were mind blowing. Must See TV!!  Yes, NBC, I am stealing your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;tagline&lt;/span&gt; - HBO rules!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K5khh8kRI/AAAAAAAAAPM/cypHs0GGBcA/s1600-h/IMG_0034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K5khh8kRI/AAAAAAAAAPM/cypHs0GGBcA/s320/IMG_0034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152884960792449298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Christmas dinner table before it was released to the hounds.  Seriously, we demolished it. It had none of its former perkiness after the clan was done with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K6LRh8kSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/cIHCQdli8Pg/s1600-h/IMG_0040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K6LRh8kSI/AAAAAAAAAPU/cIHCQdli8Pg/s320/IMG_0040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152885626512380194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My fairly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;drunky&lt;/span&gt; Daddy. Look carefully at his left shirt string...somehow he managed to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;unknowingly&lt;/span&gt; dip it in his Cabernet. He's so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K6zxh8kTI/AAAAAAAAAPc/a-kWokIR30A/s1600-h/IMG_0043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K6zxh8kTI/AAAAAAAAAPc/a-kWokIR30A/s320/IMG_0043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152886322297082162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My even cuter guy - I just love him when he's scruffy. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;, I just had a thought...do you think that's a Daddy thing? &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Eww&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K8NRh8kVI/AAAAAAAAAPs/VKpkpbdpP40/s1600-h/Untitled-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K8NRh8kVI/AAAAAAAAAPs/VKpkpbdpP40/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152887859895374162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was the joint where we spent New Year's Eve in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Tarrytown&lt;/span&gt; New York. The Castle on the Hudson was lovely - maybe a little bit old (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;PJ&lt;/span&gt; and Ray walked in to the place, checked out the clientele and said in unison, "Who died?"). But a good time was had by all - especially these two:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K86hh8kWI/AAAAAAAAAP0/kB_P1r3HIzI/s1600-h/IMG_0067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K86hh8kWI/AAAAAAAAAP0/kB_P1r3HIzI/s320/IMG_0067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152888637284454754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They started &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;mackin&lt;/span&gt;' out right in front of our table at the drop of the ball, continued through the horns, streamers, kissing and shaking of hands, kept 'er going during Dick Clark's farewell and didn't come up for air until our band started, played through &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;finished "When the Saint's Come &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Marchin&lt;/span&gt;' In." The room was revolted. Particularly when he squeezed her ample ass for the last chorus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K9-Bh8kXI/AAAAAAAAAP8/CF40lo9aT2o/s1600-h/IMG_0068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K9-Bh8kXI/AAAAAAAAAP8/CF40lo9aT2o/s320/IMG_0068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152889796925624690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blew a kiss to the camera at just after midnight (and after kissing my husband).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K7uBh8kUI/AAAAAAAAAPk/DePZuEThMMk/s1600-h/IMG_0065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K7uBh8kUI/AAAAAAAAAPk/DePZuEThMMk/s320/IMG_0065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152887323024462146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And this was me at the stroke of 12:20, back at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;PJ&lt;/span&gt; and Barbara's in my J's ready for bed. I loved that they live around the corner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K_Ehh8kYI/AAAAAAAAAQE/RgIQmQYp1og/s1600-h/IMG_0069.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K_Ehh8kYI/AAAAAAAAAQE/RgIQmQYp1og/s320/IMG_0069.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152891008106402178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-6871600210519327506?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/6871600210519327506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=6871600210519327506' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6871600210519327506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6871600210519327506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2008/01/photo-log-catch-up.html' title='Photo Log Catch Up'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R4K1aBh8kNI/AAAAAAAAAOs/DwyQlCB1Mes/s72-c/DSC03983.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-6872292606696050828</id><published>2007-12-28T10:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T12:09:37.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready? Okay! C-A-N Can - I Am Go-ing To The Can! TP! TP! Yeeeeeah TP!!!!</title><content type='html'>So there we were last night, at City Crab, with two new friends - well, new to me, old friends of My Guy's. Delightful people, down to earth, funny and had no problem swearing within 20 minutes of meeting each other.  I liked them instantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ordered dinner (where I was told that my choice of steak was the better over the chicken, only to be told that there was one steak left - wasn't I lucky - and then promptly told he'd made a mistake the steak was gone - did I mind chicken - and then revisited three minutes later to be informed that there'd been a miscommunication and that I'd be getting my steak - yeah whatever waiter guy, just bring the damn food I'm hungry already). G got up and needed to go to the bathroom, but returned in 30 seconds because the bathroom was out of TP. She'd stopped by the server station and informed our waiter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get this....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waiter stopped by our table with two rolls of toilet paper saying, "Would you mind taking these in...because, you know, heh heh, I can't really take them in there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm, are the 10-odd girlish looking chicas also dressed in black wearing the long aprons taking orders trannies? And even if they are, couldn't they "pass" long enough to deposit some Charmin in the ladies?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G was a champ. She just grabbed those rolls laughing, held them high over her head and shook them like cheerleader pom poms all the way to the back of the restaurant. I think I love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.myspacecomedy.com/images/funny/toilet-paper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 246px;" src="http://www.myspacecomedy.com/images/funny/toilet-paper.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:78%;" &gt;Not City Crab's can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-6872292606696050828?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/6872292606696050828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=6872292606696050828' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6872292606696050828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6872292606696050828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/12/hi-everyone-im-going-to-can-with-my-two.html' title='Ready? Okay! C-A-N Can - I Am Go-ing To The Can! TP! TP! Yeeeeeah TP!!!!'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-6810688372224533743</id><published>2007-12-26T16:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T17:32:12.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Made An Enormous Error in Judgment</title><content type='html'>Okay, maybe just an enormous error in packing. I took all these fab pictures of my Christmas gifts - with my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;new camera&lt;/span&gt; - yes, I no longer carry around the ghetto brick version with the orange elastic band around the busted AA battery port.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to bring the card reader to Brooklyn so they are all being held hostage in the damn contraption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can, however, list the loot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Two tickets to The Joffery Ballet in January (stocking stuffer...I feel like a total ass because My Guy's stocking stuffer included a travel pack of Q-Tips. What? I thought I was being nice. He loves the eargasm!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Perfume (Sung by Alfred Sung...been wearing it since I was 15)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Yoga video (I haven't stretched anything in about 4 months. I'm turning into a shriveled piece of gristle)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. iTunes gift card (looking forward to enhancing the 80s portion of my collection - I think the first purchase will be the best of The Cars)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. A novel, Stardust (Saw the movie and I really thought it was a nice surprise - now I want to read the book)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Another novel, let's call this one an epic novel - about 900 pages of The Chronicles of Amber  (I was encouraged to get into SciFi by My Guy...he brought it to Brooklyn,  and he's reading it again - okay by me though, I have 500 pages of The Pillars of the Earth to get through still)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. An incredibly squishy green robe, even softer on the inside than on the outside (I LOVE IT!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. An equally squishy 3/4 robe with hoodie for Brooklyn (maybe I should have brought the longer one for the colder weather?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. A coach bag (which I &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;like&lt;/span&gt;, but don't love...have been given explicit instructions to exchange it because he wasn't sure he liked it either. Yay Husband!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. A beautiful Lucien Picard silver watch (with the most unusual basket weave strap)&lt;span style="font-size:-1;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. The previously mentioned fabulous camera (hostage taker that it is)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. And finally a 4 Gig camera memory card (I won't need to delete the data for the rest of my life!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Oh! And Cosabella underwear (a yearly staple)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you're thinking, "Ham sandwiches! This girl really made out!" You 'd be right. Merry merry!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-6810688372224533743?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/6810688372224533743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=6810688372224533743' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6810688372224533743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/6810688372224533743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/12/ive-made-enormous-error-in-judgment.html' title='I&apos;ve Made An Enormous Error in Judgment'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-347866434570142777</id><published>2007-12-18T16:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T16:18:14.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a Little Bit of Pretty</title><content type='html'>What would be your reason for jumping into this canoe and escaping the troubles of your world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R2g43Rh8kHI/AAAAAAAAAOA/UgTpD-xJoc8/s1600-h/canoe.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R2g43Rh8kHI/AAAAAAAAAOA/UgTpD-xJoc8/s400/canoe.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145425096520536178" 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/26122438-347866434570142777?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/347866434570142777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=347866434570142777' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/347866434570142777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/347866434570142777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/12/just-little-bit-of-pretty.html' title='Just a Little Bit of Pretty'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R2g43Rh8kHI/AAAAAAAAAOA/UgTpD-xJoc8/s72-c/canoe.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-3611728801638542059</id><published>2007-12-14T14:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T15:04:32.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ring My Bell</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R2LgShh8j9I/AAAAAAAAAMs/bRAaZpWI5gM/s1600-h/DSC03890.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R2LgShh8j9I/AAAAAAAAAMs/bRAaZpWI5gM/s320/DSC03890.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143920333253545938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture was taken in October when we were in Gran Canaria. I think I have a thing for bells. I have a gold fairy bell at our front door - the kind you'd summon Jeeves with for your afternoon tea. There's also a cowbell on the front table ala Will Ferrell "I need more cowbell." I have a leather strapped ankle bracelet with tiny bells on it, but I never wear it because the incessant tinkling makes me need to pee. Oh, and I think I have a total of three, no, four bells on our Christmas tree. One was mine and I inherited the other three when My Guy rang my bell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-3611728801638542059?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/3611728801638542059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=3611728801638542059' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3611728801638542059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/3611728801638542059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/12/ring-my-bell.html' title='Ring My Bell'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R2LgShh8j9I/AAAAAAAAAMs/bRAaZpWI5gM/s72-c/DSC03890.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-1235863862414601945</id><published>2007-12-13T21:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T21:41:26.217-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlights</title><content type='html'>A baby frog (again with the baby frogs! this is not a haven y'all) hopped into the house through the front door today.  I squealed and yelled at it "GET OUT! Turnaroundturnaroundnow get the hell ouuuuut!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and it did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and I went for a brief walk at noon to brush out the cobwebs. The sky was grey and gloomy. It smelled metallic like it was going to rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and it did! REALLY hard.  We were only 1/2 a block away from the office, but by the time we ran to the doors it looked as though we'd been in the shower fully clothed.  Soaked. Through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out to dinner with the 'Rents - our usual Thursday, hey let's make the weekend feel longer trick. I wanted to eat cedar planked salmon, and guess what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....I did! And it was rockin' good. Sweet sauce on top, but with mustard seeds so it had a terrific balance. A side of crunchy broccoli. Just. yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm just sitting around Ego Googling my stage name to read old dance reviews. The good ones still make me happy and I still get pissed at the bad ones all over again. I wonder if that will ever go away with time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I doubt it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-1235863862414601945?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/1235863862414601945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=1235863862414601945' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1235863862414601945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/1235863862414601945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/12/highlights.html' title='Highlights'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-4205259441424509077</id><published>2007-12-11T15:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:45:07.179-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There Seems to Be a Theme with the Men in My Family</title><content type='html'>Not only do they like to pick their own noses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R171fMdMwlI/AAAAAAAAAMU/GLsCmCMETFY/s1600-h/Digital+Camera+107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R171fMdMwlI/AAAAAAAAAMU/GLsCmCMETFY/s400/Digital+Camera+107.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142817740772131410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R171zcdMwmI/AAAAAAAAAMc/owBacEomX38/s1600-h/Digital+Camera+144.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R171zcdMwmI/AAAAAAAAAMc/owBacEomX38/s400/Digital+Camera+144.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142818088664482402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R172WcdMwnI/AAAAAAAAAMk/yL7VoKL2GyE/s1600-h/Digital+Camera+142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R172WcdMwnI/AAAAAAAAAMk/yL7VoKL2GyE/s400/Digital+Camera+142.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142818689959903858" 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/26122438-4205259441424509077?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/4205259441424509077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=4205259441424509077' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4205259441424509077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/4205259441424509077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/12/there-seems-to-be-theme-with-men-in-my.html' title='There Seems to Be a Theme with the Men in My Family'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R171fMdMwlI/AAAAAAAAAMU/GLsCmCMETFY/s72-c/Digital+Camera+107.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2838890684238787719</id><published>2007-12-04T21:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T21:52:15.801-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Miss</title><content type='html'>Inspired by &lt;a href="http://whatyouthinkitis.blogspot.com/2007/12/picture-look-take-look-of-my-picture.html"&gt;Whiskeymarie's random post the other day&lt;/a&gt;, I went picture searching for a random post of my own and discovered a theme:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I Miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though he had a really butchered haircut, I miss My Guy (aka "Patches") who has been in Chicago since Monday - returning Wednesday night. Late. Way late. Too late for me to pick him up in Miami...I guess I don't miss him that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YKr8dMwdI/AAAAAAAAALU/U2_L7O4rwXs/s1600-h/DSC03600.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YKr8dMwdI/AAAAAAAAALU/U2_L7O4rwXs/s400/DSC03600.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140307774769250770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that she is back staying at my parents house, I miss my cat Moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YLD8dMwfI/AAAAAAAAALk/CwgVWraJa0U/s1600-h/DSC03625.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YLD8dMwfI/AAAAAAAAALk/CwgVWraJa0U/s400/DSC03625.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140308187086111218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aka: Monkey, Kitten, Fleabag, Monster, Moonpie, Barfer, Pukefest, Upchuck...mkay, I guess I don't miss her that much either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YK3sdMweI/AAAAAAAAALc/LmgQTBBhx4Y/s1600-h/DSC03615.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YK3sdMweI/AAAAAAAAALc/LmgQTBBhx4Y/s400/DSC03615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140307976632713698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that he is in daycare, I miss having my nephew Ryder at the office...maybe I also miss my thumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YLhsdMwgI/AAAAAAAAALs/GctJaxBRKkY/s1600-h/DSC03610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YLhsdMwgI/AAAAAAAAALs/GctJaxBRKkY/s400/DSC03610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140308698187219458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the office, I miss Stella the Elusive Gecko...poor Stella. RIP pal. We were wondering where you got to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YMhMdMwiI/AAAAAAAAAL8/glM1jNPCZYE/s1600-h/DSC03017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YMhMdMwiI/AAAAAAAAAL8/glM1jNPCZYE/s400/DSC03017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140309789108912674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stanley misses her too. "STELLA!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YMuMdMwjI/AAAAAAAAAME/w75GxyW19qg/s1600-h/DSC03028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YMuMdMwjI/AAAAAAAAAME/w75GxyW19qg/s400/DSC03028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140310012447212082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I miss Pops dressing up at the family gathering as Santa and coming down the stairs on Christmas Eve mistakenly declaring "Fee Fi Fo Fum!" instead of "Ho Ho Ho!" all the while scaring the crap out of the littlest one in the clan. Ryder's turn this time. Oh hey look at that...this year's almost over. I can look forward to this is T-minus 20 days and counting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YM9sdMwkI/AAAAAAAAAMM/y6i8ZzCKeBw/s1600-h/DSC03037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YM9sdMwkI/AAAAAAAAAMM/y6i8ZzCKeBw/s400/DSC03037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140310278735184450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes - that's his real beard. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(What you can't see is that Old Saint Nick has a groovy ponytail under that red hat!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-2838890684238787719?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2838890684238787719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2838890684238787719' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2838890684238787719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2838890684238787719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/12/things-i-miss.html' title='Things I Miss'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1YKr8dMwdI/AAAAAAAAALU/U2_L7O4rwXs/s72-c/DSC03600.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-822559967920780997</id><published>2007-12-02T20:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T20:39:07.292-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey! Look What I Got!</title><content type='html'>How beautiful are these? They came from my secret boyfriend in Cali. Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1NcYcdMwbI/AAAAAAAAALE/nEOZu28wuno/s1600-R/DSC04028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1NcYcdMwbI/AAAAAAAAALE/N2WBGmo3OoQ/s400/DSC04028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139553174785147314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy days, pals...these are happy days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were at The Falcon House recently, and the bartender was telling us of this obnoxious Boca Raton type that had come in and made a fuss about the mint in his Mojito. Thus was born the troublesome herb's new container:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1Nd9cdMwcI/AAAAAAAAALM/lMGGUbjOx8Y/s1600-R/DSC03966.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1Nd9cdMwcI/AAAAAAAAALM/Gj1qhJuP9IQ/s400/DSC03966.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139554909951934914" 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/26122438-822559967920780997?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/822559967920780997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=822559967920780997' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/822559967920780997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/822559967920780997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/12/hey-look-what-i-got.html' title='Hey! Look What I Got!'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R1NcYcdMwbI/AAAAAAAAALE/N2WBGmo3OoQ/s72-c/DSC04028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2678497590705506145</id><published>2007-11-29T16:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T16:45:32.831-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Def Comedy Losers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Last Night's Fear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 White Women &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;plus &lt;/span&gt;Def Comedy Jam Night in West Palm Beach &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;minus &lt;/span&gt;Getting There On Time &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;equals &lt;/span&gt;All Night Ridicule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Night's Reality&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got There In Plenty of Time &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;plus &lt;/span&gt;Front Row Seats &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;minus &lt;/span&gt;Looking Like Soccer Moms &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;equals &lt;/span&gt;All Night Ridicule.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-2678497590705506145?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2678497590705506145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2678497590705506145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2678497590705506145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2678497590705506145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/11/def-comedy-losers.html' title='Def Comedy Losers'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8742189842434990468</id><published>2007-11-27T21:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T22:12:48.574-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In Other News...</title><content type='html'>Giant ants have taken over West Palm Beach...They are known to lure you into their lair by standing stock still, until you are too close to escape their grasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R0zZr-uzilI/AAAAAAAAAKY/eVVMf8VkycM/s1600-h/DSC04022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R0zZr-uzilI/AAAAAAAAAKY/eVVMf8VkycM/s400/DSC04022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137720624519809618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was left of that man on the floor would make Rasputin cry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R0zaV-uzimI/AAAAAAAAAKg/PUSMyXIwK2w/s1600-h/DSC04023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R0zaV-uzimI/AAAAAAAAAKg/PUSMyXIwK2w/s400/DSC04023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137721346074315362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what is left of the freshly killed victims is then dragged back to the Queen, where she is nourished, thus able to lay her eggs at the bottom of a stripper pole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R0za--uzinI/AAAAAAAAAKo/6iWfqTB8inM/s1600-h/DSC04024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R0za--uzinI/AAAAAAAAAKo/6iWfqTB8inM/s400/DSC04024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137722050448951922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last thing I remember was a man with a chunk taken out of his side scrabbling wildly to call 911 on an out of order payphone. Alas, I am the only one left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R0zbsOuzioI/AAAAAAAAAKw/CWyEhlRGXxA/s1600-h/DSC04020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R0zbsOuzioI/AAAAAAAAAKw/CWyEhlRGXxA/s400/DSC04020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137722827838032514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Am Legend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8742189842434990468?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8742189842434990468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8742189842434990468' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8742189842434990468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8742189842434990468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/11/in-other-news.html' title='In Other News...'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/R0zZr-uzilI/AAAAAAAAAKY/eVVMf8VkycM/s72-c/DSC04022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-8896188555432198342</id><published>2007-11-26T21:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T21:29:28.410-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Apparently, I'm Pie...The Dried Fruity Kind</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="350"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg="" style="color: rgb(248, 139, 139);" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Georgia,Times New Roman,Times,serif;font-size:14;color:black;"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are Mince Pie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#73eaa0"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatholidayfoodareyouquiz/mince-pie.jpg" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admit it, this isn't the first time that someone has called you "fruity"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatholidayfoodareyouquiz/"&gt;What Holiday Food Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-8896188555432198342?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/8896188555432198342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=8896188555432198342' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8896188555432198342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/8896188555432198342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/11/apparently-im-piethe-dried-fruity-kind.html' title='Apparently, I&apos;m Pie...The Dried Fruity Kind'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26122438.post-2861437465835700599</id><published>2007-11-25T09:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T14:35:11.222-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Having One of Those Mornings</title><content type='html'>A nice one! I woke up too early to justify getting up, and too late to justify going back to sleep, so I read a few chapters of my new Bill Bryson book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shakespeare: The World As Stage&lt;/span&gt;. Then I heard a bird (a redwing) singing outside so I got up - tried not to disturb My Guy - looked out the window with the hope that the birds had returned to the long abandoned feeder, but only saw the chirper at eye level on the top of the tree in the backyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stomach rumbled, feet led me downstairs to fridge. When I got to the window in the kitchen, the redwing was hanging off the feeder having his own late version of Thanksgiving.  The seed was flying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I boiled two eggs, made some toast for "dipping soldiers," took my orange juice and went outside to enjoy breakfast and NPR's Morning Edition on the laptop while the world brightened up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sound gay? So I'm gay...and having a lovely morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26122438-2861437465835700599?l=lolliesfollies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/feeds/2861437465835700599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26122438&amp;postID=2861437465835700599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2861437465835700599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26122438/posts/default/2861437465835700599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lolliesfollies.blogspot.com/2007/11/having-one-of-those-morningd.html' title='Having One of Those Mornings'/><author><name>Lollie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02434675448319103586</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t1tWrfSd46s/Su7rOk9WbBI/AAAAAAAAApk/ImmbdVpuKW4/s1600-R/tux_bloomersbg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
