<?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-3769884516362510312</id><updated>2011-04-22T01:39:01.267-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cupcake Chronicles</title><subtitle type='html'>Cute as a cupcake</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-6071994234311044660</id><published>2008-12-06T12:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T12:45:20.881-05:00</updated><title type='text'>been a while</title><content type='html'>I'll be honest. I was aprehensive about blogging here again. But you know what? Who cares? I know my life, I know what I do and why I do it. I'm a great mom, and good person and if someone doesn't agree with it, then they don't know me enough to have a valid opinion in my book :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are...well ok. Not terrible, but it is the holiday season, and I'm in the middle of a divorce, so I'm not even going to lie- it's hard. I find myself fighting tears more than before, but luckily I have my girls keeping me going. I don't want them to see me like this, so they don't. Suprisingly, it helps. It's wierd how things have changed over the past few months. At first there was a lot of adjusting. Now, things have become almost normal for me. I haven't slept in my bed for about a month. That's like the oddest thing that has changed. I really can't even explain WHY. I just haven't. Scheduling with the girls is normal everyday for me. I have friends that tell me how confusing it is, but honestly, it's normal for me. I miss them terribly when they are gone though. I hate that they don't stay with me every single day, but I know that since I'm by myself, I do need to take that time and have some alone time. And by the way, for those who don't know it, alone time can be good. But after a while it gets old and it b-loooows. I can't even tell you how many movies I have watched. Seriously, the list is uncanny. I've even read a lot more than I used to. SO that's good. I never had time to. Now I do :) So there, thinking positive :):) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is alright. Same BS, different day. I'm trying hard to focus more and not let my lack of sleep and mood affect my work like it has been. I really love my job, I just have to give myself a little wake up call and focus focus focus. I think I do a good job, but it's frustrating at times to feel like I'm doing great, and have a little snag, and get ripped for it. But it's the real world now, and that's how it works. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so hopefully next blog wont be such a downer. I'll post pics of my new nephew, Austin! You can't be negative with a cute little baby like that :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-6071994234311044660?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/6071994234311044660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=6071994234311044660' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/6071994234311044660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/6071994234311044660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/12/been-while.html' title='been a while'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-639915983994572907</id><published>2008-11-15T17:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T17:34:52.794-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Lynn</title><content type='html'>If you think you know me, how about stop being a coward and tell me who you are? I'm pretty sure I know who you are anyway though. You are unhappy, and eventually things are going to fall apart for you too. As for your comments, I feel bad for you that you would be so unhappy, to take it out on me. I'm working through what I need to work through. And I'm doing a damn good job. You don't know me. Sorry you miss out on that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-639915983994572907?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/639915983994572907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=639915983994572907' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/639915983994572907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/639915983994572907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/11/hey-lynn.html' title='Hey Lynn'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-7540166555859401703</id><published>2008-11-11T11:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T12:05:33.804-05:00</updated><title type='text'>yiddy yadda</title><content type='html'>Really don't have much to blog about. I could complain about a lot, but, eh, what good is that really going to do? Money is tight, things keep coming up that I'm not expecting, but honestly, I'm not stressing nearly as much as I would be if this was a mear month ago. Somehow, I'm just moving on and dealing with it. I'm not even sure how, I just am. My house is clean. Well, by clean, I mean it's not gross. I have 2 kids, a dog and a full time job, all the while being single again. I am almost caught up with laundry, which is exciting! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder, when did my life get like this? When did it turn into laundry, dishes, dinner, a dog, teaching a person to read, and another person to use the potty? When did I turn into an almost divorced mid-20's single mother of 2 wondering how I'm going to date again? When am I going to have the TIME to date? Not saying I am going to now, but I'm curious as to how I'm going to do it when the time comes. I'm almost certain it's just not going to be worth it to me. Which is fine, for now. I'm sure I'll be singing a different tune eventually. I will say though, that I'm not a huge fan of being single. I don't think anyone is, really. Humans, especially women, need that human connection. And adults, need it to not include Blue's Clues and Yo Gabba Gabba, all the while trying to figure out WHY Ruby is so bossy and mean to Max (if you are a mom with Noggin or Nick, you KNOW what I'm talking about). So basically, right now, I'm just rambling and getting these things thought about. I'm pretty sure I know what I want, I'm just not sure I want it right now. Time will tell what is in store for me I guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-7540166555859401703?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/7540166555859401703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=7540166555859401703' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/7540166555859401703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/7540166555859401703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/11/yiddy-yadda.html' title='yiddy yadda'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-4990453110084293605</id><published>2008-11-07T11:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T12:13:18.295-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When is it my weekend again?</title><content type='html'>I can't remember. I have had so much going on, I can't remember when I'm going to get a weekend without anything to do. I know it's gotta be around here somewhere, right? This weekend was going to be like that actaully. But because I can't say no, I'm helping serve at a wedding tomorrow. I kind of owe this woman a lot, so I couldn't say no. I should have, but I didn't. Even more so, I also offered to make the grooms cake. Yay for me. Hopefully this wont be such a disaster like my other cakes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news of me not being able to say no...Course 2 cake decorating started last night at the end of the class. I kind of got suckered into signing up for it. $30 I don't really have. Yay again for not being able to just say "NO!". I might just say I really don't have the time and next time the class is offered, I will most definatly take it. But looking over what we are doing in course 2, i just know i don't have the damn time for it. It's not even an issue of money. It's the time. So I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to back out. :( I'm pretty confident that I will run myself too thin if I don't stop. In fact, I KNOW I will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to continue on my little ramble for today, work is at this point where, I LOVE my job, but this week, it effing sucks big ass butt. I'm exhausted and tired of trying to please all the while being super overwhelmed, on top of that, not having anything positive being said. I know it's not their job to tell me when I'm doing good. In fact, I know it's only when I screw up that they will tell me anything about my job performance. But shit. I'm busting my ass. I would at least like you to see that while I am messing up a little, look at all the shit that has been added to my plate. Give me a little time to at least learn it. It's a big system that I have taught myself. Why? BEcause you needed someone in my position so badly, you didn't take the time out to train me properly. If nothing else, take time out and train me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids are growing and funny and probably the most wonderful thing going in my life right now. I'm totally happy that I have them. Maddison is having a little issue with walking. IDK. Daycare said they have noticed her walking funny for a few months, but thought that now they should mention it to me. I really havn't noticed to much because mainly, she runs all the time. That also with the fact that she is 2 and all 2 year olds have a limp, right? Well, I called the Dr. anyway, putting asided the fear of them making fun of me being an overly-concerned hypocondriac, bothersom mother. They actaully want to see her. Hm. So I'm going to monitor and realyl watch her walking for about a week, and take her in so they can see. I have to say, once I did pay attention, she does walk *a little* funny. But not too bad. I honestly think it's just a matter of one of her legs is longer than the other, and really, what can you do about that? She'll grow out of it, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-4990453110084293605?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/4990453110084293605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=4990453110084293605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/4990453110084293605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/4990453110084293605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/11/when-is-it-my-weekend-again.html' title='When is it my weekend again?'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-8734211699775552701</id><published>2008-11-03T11:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T11:57:12.787-05:00</updated><title type='text'>aw yeah</title><content type='html'>This weekend was FABULOUS! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like *him*. I don't want to right now, but I do. And the kiss...sigh....nice :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was even better is that is was the last part of an already AWESOME day. I got a free ticket to go see MY GAMECOCKS play!!!!!!!!!!!! And we WON!!!!!!! For those of you who don't know me, I am a DIEHARD Gamecock fan. Seriously. And I got decked out in my best USC gear and had a b-LAST at this game. I will have pics soon! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-8734211699775552701?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/8734211699775552701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=8734211699775552701' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/8734211699775552701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/8734211699775552701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/11/aw-yeah.html' title='aw yeah'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-7856373654553490797</id><published>2008-10-24T14:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:06:35.602-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When it rains it pours</title><content type='html'>And that's all I'm gonna say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh, no it's not. I'm learning to suck up my pride and ask for help. Things could get worse I guess. I sent an email to a friend and told him that today couldn't get any worse. He replied with "don't say that, because you can always get proven wrong..." Then my day promptly got shittier. So then he told me to never say that again :) So I'm not. It could get worse. But I'm not going to let it. Tonight I have a night with just me and my baby. And tomorrow is her birthday party. Tonight we are going to work to get her room clean. Luckily she is at an age where she loves helping me with tasks. So we are going to be able to hang out AND I can get some stuff done. I'm working on decluttering. That will help a lot. Then tomorrow we will wake up, get all pretty and go have a fantastic birthday party! After that, we are going to take a nap, and then go to a baby shower together. Serious mommy and daughter time. The littlest one might come too, but that depends on her mood and if she gets a nap. Then after the baby shower, we will come back home and watch movies and have a snack and just hang out. I can't wait. It's going to be a good weekend if it kills me :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-7856373654553490797?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/7856373654553490797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=7856373654553490797' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/7856373654553490797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/7856373654553490797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/10/when-it-rains-it-pours.html' title='When it rains it pours'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-4881237230026358300</id><published>2008-10-21T10:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T10:46:05.784-04:00</updated><title type='text'>5 years?</title><content type='html'>Today is my baby girl's 5th birthday! I can't believe it! Where did this time go? She's the most incredible, smart, funny, awesome kid EVER.&lt;br /&gt;For example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s81.photobucket.com/albums/j235/mammagal06/?action=view&amp;current=clonetrooper.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j235/mammagal06/clonetrooper.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and she's a damn good harmonica player:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s81.photobucket.com/albums/j235/mammagal06/?action=view&amp;current=yay.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j235/mammagal06/yay.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this one? Well it's just too cute not to share...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s81.photobucket.com/albums/j235/mammagal06/?action=view&amp;current=20080609115930079_0001-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j235/mammagal06/20080609115930079_0001-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really trying like always to enjoy all these moments. They will be gone soon enough. And then I'll have a screaming teenager who hates me :) Her party is this Saturday and it's gonna be fun, but LOUD! It's at an indoor inflatable jump gym type thing. Expensive, and a rip off, and worth it because she wanted this soooo badly. I know a few things she got already and she's going to be so excited! My mom got her Hanna Montana sheets for her bed because that is her new thing now...fun stuff :P &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my first practice cake last night. Looks like hell! haha! I guess I'm going to need a lot more practice. BUT I'm not discouraged. It was my first one (well first one that I'm really trying to do a perfect job on). I think that with some of this pent up *stuff* I will be able to really take a lot of time to practice at it. It was almost calming to sit down and try. Get's my mind off things. So people around me are going to be eating a LOT of cake. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-4881237230026358300?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/4881237230026358300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=4881237230026358300' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/4881237230026358300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/4881237230026358300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/10/5-years.html' title='5 years?'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-2009395159752902728</id><published>2008-10-20T16:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T16:53:19.137-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well that was fast</title><content type='html'>And just like that *he* seems to be almost over it. I could ask for it back, but I don't want it, and it's just not worth my time. I'm just not looking forward to the holidays. I need to find more humor in my life to blog about. This shit is getting deeply depressing. I guess it's just because of where I'm at right now though. I'm going to make my icing tonight for my cakes. Trying to keep myself occupied. I took up a little project in about 3 weeks. I'm going to do a groom's cake for free to practice for a co-workers daughter. She was going to have one, but didn't have the time or $ to, so I offered to do it for free since I want the practice :) The girl I'm taking the class with is going to help me so we can both get a little practice. I think I'm going to curb some of my *frustration* into cake making this week. Should be good for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-2009395159752902728?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/2009395159752902728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=2009395159752902728' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/2009395159752902728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/2009395159752902728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/10/well-that-was-fast.html' title='Well that was fast'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-8957329959024260691</id><published>2008-10-16T16:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T16:57:07.508-04:00</updated><title type='text'>crosseyed</title><content type='html'>From lack of lovin'. And I'm starting to look at people a little strange now. :) Must go find b.o.b.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On other notes, had coffee with a friend the other night. Out way too late, but it was so fun to just hang out. And tonight I have my first cake decorating class!!!! A co worker and I are going together for 2 hours of learning to decorate cakes!! I'm soooo excited!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-8957329959024260691?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/8957329959024260691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=8957329959024260691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/8957329959024260691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/8957329959024260691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/10/crosseyed.html' title='crosseyed'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-2242511029618732115</id><published>2008-10-13T10:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T11:04:05.038-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If there is a next time</title><content type='html'>I realized this weekend how much I can not STAND *him*. &lt;br /&gt;His voice. grates.on.my.nerves. He's so damn nosey about my shit too. Do you know he got his panties all up in a wod in his butt over my phone ringer????? Yes, You read correctly. A phone ringer. Not just one time, but on different days. He's friggin' paranoid. I told him the other day that I don't have a boyfriend, I don't know that I EVER want a boyfriend, and he needs to chill the EFF out. If there is a next time, I swear to you it will take forever. I will be with my best friend next time. Because I really think that if *him* and I were close before we got married, we might have worked. I just couldn't do that with someone that there was no history of at least friendship first. We didn't really even have that "talking" stage. We met, and immediatly started dating. And 6 months later, we were married. I'm not doing that again if there is an "again". But I have to say that I am thankful that I am still young enough to have somewhat of a fresh start to really nail down what I want and need from a man. Hell, if I even want a man. I'm almost content being single right now. Of course, I need to be given the current status. But seriously, the only thing that bothers me is that it does get lonley. But other than that, I so enjoy doing my thing and making my own choices again. It's liberating and aside from being bored and a little lonley at times, I'm kind of starting to like it a little bit. NOT A LOT. Just a tiny bit :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-2242511029618732115?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/2242511029618732115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=2242511029618732115' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/2242511029618732115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/2242511029618732115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/10/if-there-is-next-time.html' title='If there is a next time'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-5163911056936496159</id><published>2008-10-07T12:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T13:54:09.413-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My trust and health</title><content type='html'>Seems as though the more the days go by, the more I'm losing. My list of people not talking to me has grown tremendously. And so has my depression. I can't trust anyone. Anyone I have ever trusted has proved to me that I shouldn't. And I don't know if I ever will again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On other news, my mother had a byopsy done week before last, and the results came in yesterday. She has a rare skin disease called mastocytosis. She's freaking out, and I'm trying not to. Deep down, I usually know when things are going to be ok, but I don't know about this. Although, my emotions are a little off right now. So maybe it will be ok, I just can't see it right now. But she's going to have to see a dermatologist and a hemotologist. Apperantly, this can be linked to a blood disorder. So on Thursday, I insisted I go to the Dr. with her. I can miss some work for this. I think I'm going for a few reasons though. One, because I know her. She's like me. The Dr. will talk, and she will try to process. She needs someone else there that can listen and ask questions too. And when some of the information goes through her head, I can add more to it from what I remember. I also want to know what the Dr. says for my OWN good. My mother and I are almost identical health wise. I think there is a part of me that wants to know if this is somehting I should watch for. Is it genetic? In the past few years, as I find out just how many health problems we have the same, I find myself obsessed with wanting to know if it's genetic or not. I don't want to put things off and ignore them just to have it affect me in the long run. I think I'm going off the deepend...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-5163911056936496159?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/5163911056936496159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=5163911056936496159' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/5163911056936496159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/5163911056936496159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/10/seems-as-though-more-days-go-by-more-im.html' title='My trust and health'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-2499967314231613810</id><published>2008-09-29T14:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T15:01:42.757-04:00</updated><title type='text'>over over over</title><content type='html'>I'm trying hard to be over the self loathing and self pity. I'm not, but I'm trying. Someone told me I deserve to have everything I want. Well guess what? It's not happening. I know that I shouldn't just expect it to happen over night, but ya know, would it be so bad to at least have a glimmer of hope here? As of now, I don't have even that. All I see is things getting shittier and shittier. And I want to it be effing over. And the longer my days are, the more I realize, it's not going to happen. Some people just don't get to be happy. Just sucks I'm not one of them. Damnit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-2499967314231613810?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/2499967314231613810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=2499967314231613810' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/2499967314231613810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/2499967314231613810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/09/over-over-over.html' title='over over over'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-1766325609015795903</id><published>2008-09-24T00:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T15:23:27.258-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another one not published....</title><content type='html'>I guess each night is getting a little harder. I'm trying to pick up a hobby or something, but I'm afraid my heart just wouldn't be in it right now. My heart doesn't seem to be in much latley. I seem to get in these good moods, and it seems it doesn't take much to get me back down to being depressed. It wouldn't be so bad, except I really am trying to be happier. I mean, that's why I'm getting divored, right? To finally be happy. But today, I missed him. I really really missed him. But I think I miss the idea of him. Not him. Then I talked to him, and realized that, yes, it was the IDEA that I missed. And I don't want to be alone. But it's a big fear of mine, to be alone. I don't really want to be tied down right now, but I don't want to be alone either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-1766325609015795903?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/1766325609015795903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=1766325609015795903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/1766325609015795903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/1766325609015795903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-guess-each-night-is-getting-little.html' title='Another one not published....'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-2444266635651269196</id><published>2008-09-23T09:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T09:40:01.606-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner Party for 1</title><content type='html'>Well, last night was different. I got out of the funk temporarily. I figure if I can pull myself out enough times, things will get better. We started this thing at work called "A Complaint Free World". It was on Oprah I think. Anywhere, there is a website, a book, and these rubber braclets. Remeber those livestrong ones that were popular a few years back? Well, that's what these are, only they are purple. Anyway, the whole thing is, everytime you complain or gossip, or critisize, you move the thing from one arm to the other. The goal is to have it on the same arm for 21 days. AYE. So far, I have only changed it ONE time today! :) Granted it's early :) Maybe it's only temporary motivation, but whatever. Get it where you can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I got home and started with sitting my ass on the computer. But thought better of it...I ended up cooking dinner and cleaning. I did 2 loads of clothes while making the best dinner I have ever whipped up. It wasn't anything terribly special, but coming from a woman who really doesn't know how to cook, this is a big deal. I have NEVER cooked meat by myself. I ALWAYS get someone to check it for me. I'm paranoid about it. But last night, I did it. And, as you can tell, I am still alive and well :) The chicken was the shiz too! Lime pepper, with olive oil and broccoli pasta and a bread thing (idk what it was, but it was on sale at the store..square, garlicy...aka-yummy) with colby jack cheese melted on top. Oh. My. God. And do you know who I got to share it with?? No one. So I had tons left, and no one to tell me how good it was :P I'm going to have to learn how to cook for one. Because, really, I don't really have a clue. It can't be too hard though. After dinner, I cleaned up a little bit. Then put the baby down for bed. I then sat my little but down and watched Army Wives. After which, I got up, cleaned up the rest of the way and felt satisfied that I had done good tonight. I could get used to this...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-2444266635651269196?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/2444266635651269196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=2444266635651269196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/2444266635651269196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/2444266635651269196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/09/dinner-party-for-1.html' title='Dinner Party for 1'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-8656827596877361949</id><published>2008-09-21T22:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T22:55:46.302-04:00</updated><title type='text'>eh, this is depressing. you may want to skip this pitty party</title><content type='html'>Well the divorce is on it's way. And I've been hurting a little bit. But it's what I want, and it's time to start moving on. Until last night, I thought I was fine. A few drinks made me realize otherwise. So if there is anyone reading this, I can say with absolute certainty now...divorce is hard on everyone. Even the person who WANTS it....it effing blows. There are shattered peices of my life all around me. I wanted this, and I knew what I was going to have to sacrifice...but I never imagined watching my life go in a spiral like it has. It's in front of me falling and I can't catch it. And I'm trying like hell. And I don't want him back. Ever. But I do want my life back. I can't function. I am putting a happy face outside. But on the inside...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my house is a mess. i am a mess. my dog is even a mess. i have to many things on my plate, and i want to be supermom, and do them all, and i'm failing miserably. i don't know what would be worse at this time. giving it all up and admiting that i can't do it, or trying, failing, and looking like a douche bag when i fall on my ass? i think i'm going to just try and hope i don't fall. and if  do, i just hope the people around me that see me do it dont ridicule me. but the way things are going now, there wont be anyone at all. i guess that is a plus, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-8656827596877361949?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/8656827596877361949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=8656827596877361949' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/8656827596877361949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/8656827596877361949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/09/eh-this-is-depressing-you-may-want-to.html' title='eh, this is depressing. you may want to skip this pitty party'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-3947171287286287512</id><published>2008-08-01T09:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T16:15:01.782-04:00</updated><title type='text'>forgot to hit publish on this one....</title><content type='html'>Some days I have so much in my head, that I just don't know what to write about. I can't seperate it enough for it to make sense. I love blogging, because it does help get things out and sorted. But what happens when there are days where nothing can get sorted through? I don't blog. I don't journal. I just let it sit and simmer in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going to BS post today :) Because I know how much people who actually read this love to learn about me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Name one fact about the person who last texted you?&lt;br /&gt;He's pretty nice :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the last thing you ate?&lt;br /&gt;Pizza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you sleep in jeans?&lt;br /&gt;Probably have at some point but not comfortably&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is something you just don’t understand?&lt;br /&gt;How something can go so wrong so fast &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where were you on July 2nd, 2008?&lt;br /&gt;Working....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was the last person you were in a car with?&lt;br /&gt;Myself. If you wanna get technical, it was Morgan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there someone on your mind that shouldn't be?&lt;br /&gt;yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you'll be married in 10 years?&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you look forward to in the next 3 months?&lt;br /&gt;nothing really &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you plan on moving in the next year?&lt;br /&gt;There is a slight chance since I don't like my neighbors &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did you get the shirt you are wearing?&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you like winter?&lt;br /&gt;Not so much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you enjoy late night phone conversations?&lt;br /&gt;depends on with who&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you doing tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;Going to work, bringing kitty to it's new foster home &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly what's on your mind right now?&lt;br /&gt;How are things going to get worse for me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How late did you stay up last night?Why?&lt;br /&gt;About 1 am. I can't sleep anymore &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What will you be doing at 8AM tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;I'll be en route to work &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you listening to right now?&lt;br /&gt;Bosses talking  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is the weather right now?&lt;br /&gt;Sunny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the first thing you notice in the opposite sex?&lt;br /&gt;Teeth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want children?&lt;br /&gt;I have 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hair color?&lt;br /&gt;red/blonde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you wear contacts/glasses?&lt;br /&gt;both&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What book are you reading?&lt;br /&gt;Twighlight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piercings?&lt;br /&gt;ears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What were you doing before filling this out?&lt;br /&gt;Took a bubble bath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever fired a gun?&lt;br /&gt;working &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you like to travel by plane?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you missing someone?&lt;br /&gt;A lot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you still watch cartoons on Saturday mornings?&lt;br /&gt;Nope they suck now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was the last person you watched a movie with?&lt;br /&gt;myself &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever kissed anyone whose name started with an K?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last people you rode in a car with under the age of 21?&lt;br /&gt;Morgan and Maddison &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When is your birthday?&lt;br /&gt;Feb 20&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was yesterday better than today?&lt;br /&gt;Nope &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you live a day without TV?&lt;br /&gt;I don't like to, but it's happened &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was the last person you shared a bed with?&lt;br /&gt;my cat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite place to be?&lt;br /&gt;no where really. I guess I like the beach ok :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you hate the last person you were talking to?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you wearing a necklace, who got it for you?&lt;br /&gt;Nope, no necklace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know anyone that smokes weed?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you ever kiss anyone over 28?&lt;br /&gt;sure why not &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever thrown your cell phone in anger?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many pictures do you have saved on your computer?&lt;br /&gt;A buttload&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you like meeting new people?&lt;br /&gt;I do :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-3947171287286287512?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/3947171287286287512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=3947171287286287512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/3947171287286287512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/3947171287286287512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/08/few-days-ago-i-wrote-this-and-for-got.html' title='forgot to hit publish on this one....'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-4179318642662190142</id><published>2008-07-26T11:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T18:20:07.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The soul search is on...</title><content type='html'>I have to get my emotions in check. I am in control. I will, I will, I will find ME. Amanda. Myself. The soul search is on. Unfortunatly, I think that search is going to lead me down a road of realization that I am not who I have been trying to be for too long. I'm not that person. I don't know that I ever have. But I think I have faked it for so long, that people who know me are telling me I'm just "going through a tough time". What if I'm not? What if I'm acutally starting to go through the begining of a great time? Then what? I guess this is what happens when you fake it for so long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-4179318642662190142?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/4179318642662190142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=4179318642662190142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/4179318642662190142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/4179318642662190142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/07/soul-search-is-on.html' title='The soul search is on...'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-801788790044155317</id><published>2008-07-25T14:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T14:06:33.632-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't control</title><content type='html'>For a control freak, not being able to control feelings are really bothering me. I can't even mention to friends what my problem is. I just can't....I can't stop thinking, I can't stop getting closer to acting on it, I can't control a damn thing. I can't even blog about it. I just need out. I'm stuck. And it's more and more apparent the longer the days go on. It's almost enough for me to just leave. I don't know if I want to do that permenantly or temporarily. But something has to break soon. And it's going to be me. And it's going to hurt a lot of people in the mean time. I might end up alone after this.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-801788790044155317?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/801788790044155317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=801788790044155317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/801788790044155317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/801788790044155317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-cant-control.html' title='I can&apos;t control'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-3810425583661960470</id><published>2008-06-17T14:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T15:14:12.707-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weeding my garden</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wish I didn't have so many random thoughts running through my head all the time, but then there are other times where I'm acually quite entertained by it :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that has really been going through my head is my level of stress I'm allowing in my life. I don't know why I do it, but I do. I just keep adding on more and more, I guess in hopes of becoming a saint of some sort I guess. Thing is, NOW is not the s time in my life where I can do this. I'm impatient for the time where I can, so I jump. And then regret sets in. A good friend of mine gives me the "weeding your garden" speech everyonce in a while when things get the way that they do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weeding my garden consists of out with the old, and maybe not in with the new. I need to weed through and find the people who make my life nice, calm, breezy...like a nice wind on a pretty fall day. And I need to get rid of the ones who just make my life a horrible little mess, like a hot sticky August afternoon. Unfortunatly, this is easier said than done. Especially when they live in close proximity to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a sweet girl and her 6 week old baby living with us right now. Which, normally, shouldn't be too big of a deal, if we had more room. Enough room does not inclue a 2 bedroom 900 sq ft apartment and 2 small children. Stuff is EVERYWHERE. I mean everywhere. But I'm trying to really step back and understand where she is at right now. Problem is, she can't be my problem. She is suffering from a lot more things than I can help her with. That baby really needs a mommy, and I'm afraid for her. So that's why I haven't stamped my foot in protest to get her out. I mean, we really need her to not live here, BUT, I just can't help thinking about that baby. I have seen her every day for the past few weeks. And she's growing, and smiling. All these little things I didn't think I missed to much. Even the way she smells. Oh, that little baby smell is devine! I can't just let her go without a place to stay. The other argument though, is, how is this fair to MY family. And it's just not. I'm so torn on this. It's been a really hard past few weeks on me, and I've been keeping quiet because I know how trivial it all is in the long run, but I blew up Sunday night. And Monday was still hard. And today is a little LESS hard, but I need to start weeding or else my next blow up will be sooner than later. I don't like that "me". And because that part of me was unleashed, I have lost 2 friends. Which, honestly, I wont miss. THAT part of weeding was easy :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-3810425583661960470?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/3810425583661960470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=3810425583661960470' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/3810425583661960470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/3810425583661960470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/06/weeding-my-garden.html' title='Weeding my garden'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-3731139074214073470</id><published>2008-05-23T08:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T09:22:07.181-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My baby</title><content type='html'>7 years ago on the 31st, M's father and I graduated high school. We had Royal Blue cap and gowns. It was the happiest day for us. We loved eachother, we had the whole rest of our lives in front of us just waiting. Then we had a baby. Which changed the direction of our roads. And now this baby is almost 5. And although it may seem silly to most, she had a graduation last night. And while watching her in that royal blue cap and gown just like the one her father and I sported just 7 years ago, I started thinking about HER future. And what I hoped her life would turn out like. Nothing in particular, just lots of happiness, and not nearly as much heartbreak as I have endured by so many in the past . I thought how fast this is all going. And how much faster it's going to get. I just want to keep up and be the mother that my mother wasn't. I want to be so much better than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s81.photobucket.com/albums/j235/mammagal06/?action=view&amp;current=Picture002.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j235/mammagal06/Picture002.jpg" border="0" alt="beautiful baby girl"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-3731139074214073470?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/3731139074214073470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=3731139074214073470' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/3731139074214073470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/3731139074214073470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-baby.html' title='My baby'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-2150411558105375848</id><published>2008-05-20T14:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T15:10:50.334-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If I wasn't so afraid...</title><content type='html'>If I wasn't so afraid, what would I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have tattoos EVERYWHERE&lt;br /&gt;I would have SHORT hair&lt;br /&gt;It would even be hot pink&lt;br /&gt;I would have more friends&lt;br /&gt;I would have the things I really wanted in life&lt;br /&gt;I would have much different relationships with people&lt;br /&gt;some of these people, my lack of fear might help our relationship&lt;br /&gt;some of these people, my lack of fear might HURT our relationship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think about all that I am afraid of, I start asking myself, Why am I so afraid? I know there are somethings that are just rational things to be fearful of. Like heights. I am terrified. I'll still fly in  a plane, but you won't see me skydiving. Hell no. But if I wasn't afraid, I totally would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I wasn't so afraid sometimes, but I guess in a way, it keeps me grounded. In my head, I am a very outgoing, fearless, thrill seeking human being. But my rational side tells me to shut the hell up and sit down in my seat. I've learned to shut the little bitch up enough for me to get a few things accomplished though. Like getting married. Having children. Getting a tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably the most irrational thing I am afraid of is Ferrets. Yes. Those creepy little spineless bastards. Ew. gross. They make me want to vomit.  One thing that I think is probably more insane to be fearful of is my Life. I'm so scared to take charge of my life and really really be who I want to be. I'm constantly making excuses, and not changing. And it's just recently come to my attention. I'm afraid to be me. I think I'm more afraid that I wont like who I really am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm all sorts of messed up today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough about this fear crap. I have to stop being so afraid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-2150411558105375848?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/2150411558105375848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=2150411558105375848' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/2150411558105375848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/2150411558105375848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/05/if-i-wasnt-so-afraid.html' title='If I wasn&apos;t so afraid...'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-4767019625952664508</id><published>2008-05-14T11:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T11:56:48.329-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't post often</title><content type='html'>But I should. I have the most random shit go through my head. I can't even begin to explain some of the things I ponder while working, driving, or anything else that doesn't allow me to have conversations with another human. And even then, I have thoughts that go through my head while I'm speaking to someone like, for example, "I wonder what they would do if I kicked their shin right now". I need help :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I will try to get htese thoughts down, but for now, I have this : It's long, but I'm making up for lost posting time :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Name: Amanda&lt;br /&gt;Age:25&lt;br /&gt;Birthdate: Feb 20, 83&lt;br /&gt;Birthplace: Charleston, SC&lt;br /&gt;Location:South Carolina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Appearence&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hair Color: Brown right now&lt;br /&gt;Eye Color: Green&lt;br /&gt;Weight: hahahahahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;Height: 5'2''&lt;br /&gt;Braces? had them for most of high school. including Prom and Graduation. I was the cool kid.&lt;br /&gt;Glasses/contacts? Until I can get back to the Eye Dr, I have these headache inducing glasses&lt;br /&gt;Freckles? a few&lt;br /&gt;Scars? yes. a few. C-section, and where I busted my hand open while pregnant with my first&lt;br /&gt;Style: comfortable and cheap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Food: right now, pickles. Clausen Dills to be specific.&lt;br /&gt;Drink: Coffee or Tea (unsweet with lemon and a splenda)&lt;br /&gt;Store(s): Target&lt;br /&gt;Color(s): Green, Purple, Red, Blue, Pink, Black, White.........I can't pick : )&lt;br /&gt;Shoe Brand: Sale and fit. I don't give a rats ass what brand they are. But I do like the Issac Mizrahi (sp???) brand ok from Target :)&lt;br /&gt;Clothing Brand(s): The kind that doesn't make it look like my thighs are fighting like pigs under a blanket. Currently, that's not a lot :)&lt;br /&gt;Purse Brand(s): usually it's black. so whatever brand that comes in :) :)&lt;br /&gt;This/That: this ish?&lt;br /&gt;Coke/Pepsi: Coke&lt;br /&gt;Bikini/One Peice: After having children- ONE PEICE- Cover that shit up!&lt;br /&gt;Love/Money: This isn't just a one word answer. It' a little more complex if you think about it. Love of my children, but money in my marriage- it would eliminate a lot of stresses that cause us to not be that "loving" couple anymore....&lt;br /&gt;Resturant/Fast Food: Wendy's, or Chili's. And Olive Garden.&lt;br /&gt;Boy/Girl: Girls? I like boys, but I have daughters. sooooooooo this is a stupid question :)&lt;br /&gt;Pop/Water: water&lt;br /&gt;Dogs/Cats: cats&lt;br /&gt;Abercrombie/Walmart: Walmart&lt;br /&gt;Night/Day: Night&lt;br /&gt;Sun/Rain: Sun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have You Ever&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cried at work: Yes. Too many times I think&lt;br /&gt;Laughed so hard you peed: Oh yes I have&lt;br /&gt;Seen your best friend naked: Yeah&lt;br /&gt;Taken a shower with someone: A few times&lt;br /&gt;Been drunk: hmmm...nope. Wait, sorry, yes, a lot :)&lt;br /&gt;Smoked: I am a smoker of the nicotine. And previous smoker of the other&lt;br /&gt;Cried on someones shoulder: yes&lt;br /&gt;Let someone cry on your shoulder: anytime they need it&lt;br /&gt;Slept in bed with same sex: yes&lt;br /&gt;Used the bathroom in front of a friend: a lot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do You&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smoke yes&lt;br /&gt;Do Drugs no&lt;br /&gt;Drink every once in a while&lt;br /&gt;Cry often yeah, a lot more than I used to&lt;br /&gt;Change in front of your friends yes&lt;br /&gt;Talk about private things with friends-- um....yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In the Opposite Sex&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite eye color: Blue&lt;br /&gt;Favorite hair color: Red&lt;br /&gt;height: taller than me&lt;br /&gt;weight: bigger than me&lt;br /&gt;drink/smoke: rather not have a smoker&lt;br /&gt;drugs: hell no&lt;br /&gt;tatoos: yes please&lt;br /&gt;peircings:sure :):)&lt;br /&gt;style: cool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;person you hugged: My babies&lt;br /&gt;person you kissed: My babies&lt;br /&gt;person you talked to: My boss&lt;br /&gt;time you cried: Yesterday at lunch time&lt;br /&gt;time you laughed: Earlier this morning&lt;br /&gt;thing you bought: Starbucks&lt;br /&gt;person you yelled at: probably one of my technicians...they get that a lot&lt;br /&gt;person you said i love you to: My babies&lt;br /&gt;person you told you they loved you: Husband&lt;br /&gt;person you hit: uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh&lt;br /&gt;thing you drank: Diet Pepsi&lt;br /&gt;thing you ate: Pickle!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-4767019625952664508?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/4767019625952664508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=4767019625952664508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/4767019625952664508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/4767019625952664508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-dont-post-often.html' title='I don&apos;t post often'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-1247244507243820728</id><published>2008-03-20T16:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T16:44:54.366-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A little of this a little of that...</title><content type='html'>I'm going to steal an idea from Sarah. I acutally dug out my *List Yourself* book, after reading about her's in a blog. And I'm going to try and blog more with the help of that book. Yeah. Good luck to me. I get a great idea to start blogging again, and then end up SUCKING at it. But I'm going to give it another shot :) For today, since I don't have my book with me, I will put down some randomness to fill space, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bite my nails&lt;br /&gt;I ALWAYS forget socks&lt;br /&gt;I don't wear makeup&lt;br /&gt;I don't do my hair&lt;br /&gt;In the occasion that I do wear makeup and do my hair- feel special&lt;br /&gt;I love my job&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to starting my new part time gig on the side&lt;br /&gt;My little OCD ass is going to kick ass at this PartyLite thing&lt;br /&gt;I don't say OCD like a joke. I was diagnossed with it more than a year ago.&lt;br /&gt;I have come to terms and accept my OCDness- it makes me, me.&lt;br /&gt;Some days I "have it" bad, and somedays, not so much&lt;br /&gt;I rarley take sick days&lt;br /&gt;I NEVER seem to take vacation days&lt;br /&gt;I need to take both&lt;br /&gt;Before kids, I was sick every 2 years or so&lt;br /&gt;With kids, I'm sick every 2 weeks or so&lt;br /&gt;I don't care too much acutally&lt;br /&gt;I have daughters, and love love love them&lt;br /&gt;I want the experience of raising a son just as much though&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot more random things about me that I'm sure will come out eventually, but, like the title said, this is ME :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-1247244507243820728?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/1247244507243820728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=1247244507243820728' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/1247244507243820728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/1247244507243820728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/03/little-of-this-little-of-that.html' title='A little of this a little of that...'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-1550496656793309432</id><published>2008-02-28T10:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T11:11:16.829-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess I can't</title><content type='html'>I have this OCD thing where the blog 365 thing would MAKE me get on everyday to post. Ok, not them, but you know what I mean. It was actually not as fun as I thought it would be, but me being the kind of person I am, HAD to keep up with it. Guess what? I failed. And guess what else? I honestly don't care. I'm a little disapointed with myself, but like a lot of things I jump into, I should have known. I think I'm more disapointed that my life is to busy to give me time to do a little something for ME. When is it all going to slow down? My baby is almost 18 months old. My older baby is almost 4 and a half!! WTH? When did this happen? When did I become a mother, wife, full time kick-ass employee? I don't know. I have this plan for 2008 though. It will take me forever, but I'm getting organized. I'm getting de-cluttered. I am going to be happy and relaxed in my own house. We are currently in a time crunch of weather or not we will stay in our cramped living spaces for a little longer, or if we will pack it all up and move to a bigger place.  I just don't like all these things I have to decide in a matter of days. Ugh. What a pain in the ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-1550496656793309432?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/1550496656793309432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=1550496656793309432' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/1550496656793309432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/1550496656793309432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-guess-i-cant.html' title='I guess I can&apos;t'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-8038746480403118044</id><published>2008-01-22T11:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T11:16:09.314-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Site Meter</title><content type='html'>I wonder if anyone visits this blog. And if they do, I want to know where they are from. Because honestly, I have no idea. Is it worth keeping up on this blog too? I'm doing 365, and this one occasionally, but if no one reads, then I wont update, but if people do, then I will :) This AND my other one about the kids. :) :) :) Leave me a message if you are there!!! :) :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-8038746480403118044?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/8038746480403118044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=8038746480403118044' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/8038746480403118044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/8038746480403118044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/01/site-meter.html' title='Site Meter'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-5098058677355186554</id><published>2008-01-02T14:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T14:27:33.658-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I do it?</title><content type='html'>I wonder if I can blog for 365 days? As we have seen in my blogs, I don't keep up well. But I'm seriously going to try. And I now have more than one blog going at a time. Weird. I don't know if I can keep up! :) :) :) I'm rollin' with the big girls now :) BTW-Kim-I totally can do this, can you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-5098058677355186554?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/5098058677355186554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=5098058677355186554' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/5098058677355186554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/5098058677355186554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2008/01/can-i-do-it.html' title='Can I do it?'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-6163893343463999602</id><published>2007-12-31T14:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T15:07:59.870-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm hungry. This is going to suck</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to quit smoking. My husband, who I never thought would EVER quit- has beat me to it! So I'm trying. And I'm hungry-more than normal. I keep gaining weight anyway, so WTF is not smoking going to do to me? I'm only going to eat more, and gain more. Yuck. Luckily, I have been on this serious salad kick. The only thing is, I like my fried chicken strips on it. I'm trying very hard to find out how they can be healthy. There is the chicken, of course. The fried part is bread...thats in the basic food group..right? If it's not, it is now. It's in the food groups of Amanda. The end. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..........I'm never going to loose weight this way...............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-6163893343463999602?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/6163893343463999602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=6163893343463999602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/6163893343463999602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/6163893343463999602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-hungry-this-is-going-to-suck.html' title='I&apos;m hungry. This is going to suck'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-1928325704210477961</id><published>2007-12-27T16:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T17:05:49.845-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tag! You're it!! Hoopla....</title><content type='html'>Here are the rules, as decreed by someone higher up than myself.1. List 12 random things about yourself that have to do with Christmas 2. Please refer to it as a ‘hoopla’ and not the dreaded ‘m’-word 3. You have to specifically tag people when you’re done. None of this “if you’re reading this, consider yourself tagged” &lt;a class="jigluLink" title="Jiglu topic tag: stuff" onclick="return(Jiglu.overlayOpen(this))" href="http://jerinstar-tagging.jiglu.com/tags/topics/stuff!overlay"&gt;stuff&lt;/a&gt; is allowed…then nobody ends up actually doing it. The number of people who you tag is really up to you — but the more, the merrier to get this ‘hoopla’ circulating through the blogosphere.4. Please try and do it as quickly as possible. The Christmas season will be over before we know it and I’d like to get as many people involved as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so technically it's over, but I'm going to do it anyway...and then TAG- Tae and Jess in HI&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I didn't believe in Santa growing up because my parents thought it was garbage to put in my head, and it sucked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I am trying very hard to have my own traditions for my family, and so far, it's PJ's on Christmas Eve for the kids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I would rather have nothing under the tree and have TONS for the kids. It's better that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Ok, maybe a little something under the tree ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I looooooove homemade ornaments kids make at school for the tree. They make me warm and fuzzy inside :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I love to watch White Christmas and Home Alone at Christmas time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I miss the specials that came on when I was growing up- Claymations, Charlie Brown, Misfits, Roudolph...They never seem to be on anymore, unless I'm just missing them :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I secretly love the crocheted Christmas vests and sweaters that we made fun of Mom for wearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I shop on Christmas Eve. And thats when I do MOST of it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I say I will try and buy gifts through the year, and I never, ever do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Christmas is a perfect excuse for jammies and hot chocolate with marshmallows :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I think I get more excited on Christmas morning than my kids. I think it's because growing up, we didn't "do" Santa, and we opened gifts on Christmas Eve night. How bad does THAT suck? I think that's why I love Christmas morning so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I already tagged people above! Jess in HI and Tae!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-1928325704210477961?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/1928325704210477961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=1928325704210477961' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/1928325704210477961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/1928325704210477961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2007/12/tag-youre-it-hoopla.html' title='Tag! You&apos;re it!! Hoopla....'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-4334957657122248082</id><published>2007-10-17T12:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T12:59:19.624-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just when you think you know</title><content type='html'>You trust people. Close friends. Your kids may even call them "Aunt/Uncle so and so" because you are so close , but do you REALLY know that person? Chances are if you have a gut instinct that something is just not all the way right, then it's not. And it sucks when you ignore it, and find out later one that just when you think you know someone, it's the biggest scam to date of what you have seen in your life. I'm thankful this person was never around my children alone. I'm thankful I found things out before it was too late. But I'm more upset about the broken pieces that everyone else is left with to pick up. This didn't just affect one person, it damaged a lot of things for a lot of people.  I refuse to let this run my life more than it has to though. I will be here for the people that need it, and help pick up the peices of lives that were broken where I can, but I will not ignore or neglect my children, my husband, or my other friendships to become consumed with this situation.  As long as they get that about me, then we're cool :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while we are at it, I'm going to bitch (and basically ramble on) just a tad further about work. There is a person who believes, I guess, that she is God's gift. Step aside woman. I don't wear make up, I don't dress beautiful. I dress comfortable for work, and I don't have the time for makeup. Nor do I care a whole lot about it. But when you for one second believe that it's because I don't have money (which,ok, most of the time we are tight) and that's why I dress the way I do and don't wear makeup, you need a serious reality check. I was supposed to be recieving an apology from a co worker who was repremanded for some insulting words thrown at me about my appearance. Instead of an apology, I got a speech of how she didn't know it was going to insult me, and she's been in my shoes with no money, unable to pay rent or buy diapers.". WTF??? Where do you get off you crazy balding bitch? No, we are not well off. Yes, we struggle. But we have been fortuate enough to be able to cover basic needs. We have to cut some things out, but we still cover rent, and diapers (thank you wholesale club membership :) !). I just want to know where the hell she thinks it's right to assume that and then to my face TELL ME THOSE THINGS without knowing me? Luckly, I had to write it up and she's on thin ice anyway here, so I will chalk it up to nothing more that some cold ignorant bitch that I worked with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. My subtle revenge?? I wore my thigh high boots, skirt, shirt that shows a little skin, and fixed my hair, and even managed to throw on a little make up. Eat your heart out! :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-4334957657122248082?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/4334957657122248082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=4334957657122248082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/4334957657122248082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/4334957657122248082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2007/10/just-when-you-think-you-know.html' title='Just when you think you know'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-1216988739633811465</id><published>2007-09-06T18:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T18:42:03.005-04:00</updated><title type='text'>blah..</title><content type='html'>I didn't know what to put as a title. It has come to my attention, that some people read this thing, so I figured I had better update and start posting!! Life has been flying by. Kids are getting older, smarter and faster. I in the mean time am getting further away from being younger, dumber and slower. My time to do anything is getting shorter. My days are longer, but feel shorter. My children are growing before my eyes, and there is nothing I can do except try hard to enjoy every minute I can. And if you have ever taken a 3 year old and a 1 year old to Wal-Mart, you know what a task this can be. But I love it. I really do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week my depression has surfaced a little. I go through this cyle where I'm fine, then I'm not. And once my stubborn ass decides it's time to go to a Dr., I am at a high point and decide to just nevermind the notion of medication. I honestly think it has a lot to do with the hormones I'm on to keep myself out of the loony bin and un-pregnant right now;). I wish I could throw the damn things away, but honestly, I don't know I'm at a point where I could handle being pregnant again. Especially another *suprise* baby. Maybe when Maddison is out of diapers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I must cut this. Maddison is hungry, the phone is ringing, and I just realized I'm very freaking hungry. I'll write more later..hopefully....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-1216988739633811465?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/1216988739633811465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=1216988739633811465' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/1216988739633811465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/1216988739633811465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2007/09/blah.html' title='blah..'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-6919547948422420821</id><published>2007-08-16T11:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T11:30:50.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Where does my time go??</title><content type='html'>July. That's the last time I have had time to post. Oh well. I don't even know if anyone even reads this thing anyway :P. If you do, well, thanks, and sorry I've been a slack ass :). Work has been great. I have learned that a crazy day is in fact a normal day around here. I'm on my toes. I had the owner the other day tell me "Amanda, don't take shit from nobody, you hear me?" Then grinned ear to ear. Apparently, I can be a hard ass, and they love it. I'm in charge of 6 men and 1 women. Not totally in charge, but a little bit. I don't take their crap, and they love me for it. The only other job that I think would be better than this is to be a SAHM. Other than that, I'm right where I belong!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-6919547948422420821?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/6919547948422420821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=6919547948422420821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/6919547948422420821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/6919547948422420821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2007/08/where-does-my-time-go.html' title='Where does my time go??'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-7282094914454872723</id><published>2007-07-22T11:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T11:27:42.704-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy Sunday before Crazy Monday</title><content type='html'>Family is supposed to be there to lift you up and encourage. I some how have been blessed with the most insensitive family- blood and married- that ever walked. I don't want to divorce my husband, but can I divorce his family? I really couldn't tell you what in-law is worse. It's a tie between them. And it's not normal annoyances, it's like they are all seriously a little cookoo. I know I am somewhat, but seriously? I just want to bitch slap them more times than not. They talk to me like I'm an idiot. Like I have never had kids, and MUST not know anything about raisin' no babies. Makes me sick the type of people that are out in this world. I'm fine in front of my computer with my cup of coffee on this nice Sunday morning. I'm even happier that I have a 10 month old joining me right now :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's back to work tomorrow for me. I have been out since half the day on Thursday thanks to strep thoat. It's been nice to be home (kinda), but I have a pretty bad case of cabin fever. We do need food and diapers, so I'm sure we will get to go on a little adventure out to Wally World sometime soon. Morgan comes back from her dad's house tomorrow, so I need to get things disinfected before she comes back so that she wont catch what the rest of us have had. The house is just stuffy. I hate that feeling when you get better of a "sick" house. It's gross and I need it cleaned and aired out of all the germs floating around in this tiny apartment. YUCK.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-7282094914454872723?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/7282094914454872723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=7282094914454872723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/7282094914454872723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/7282094914454872723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2007/07/family-is-supposed-to-be-there-to-lift.html' title='Lazy Sunday before Crazy Monday'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3769884516362510312.post-5869608964923116881</id><published>2007-07-21T20:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T20:28:28.638-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The first....</title><content type='html'>I have been doing a lot of thinking, and reading, and then more thinking. This is the time in my life, where I am a wife and mother of 2, in my mid twenties, and finally figuring out who I am. Who am I? Where do I belong? What are my passions? Where do I stand politically, religiously, and even where I stand as a parent? I have young children right now. Young where I just need to protect, encourage, and love these little ones. But I am fast approaching a time where I need to find my ground as a mother and stand it. I have to stop looking at myself as that 16 year old girl, but rather as the 24 year old WIFE and MOTHER to two beautiful daughters. Some may understand this struggle I am facing, some may just think I'm full of shit. Whatever. This is my time. I may ramble on and on about nothing somedays, and other days have so much deep thought put into this, that it's hard to make sense of. Either way, it's mine. And I am determinded to actually keep up with it this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had quite a struggle to be my own person. I have tried so hard. It's a battle that I have to fight everyday. I can't blame my parents forever, but they did start it. I just have to really choose not to own it. I was in a co-dependent environment. I felt like I was worth nothing unless I heard it from my father. I depended on him for my self-worth, and never got it. I got older, and looked other places. Same story, different girl. I had multiple flings that I thought would bring me happiness and fullfillment, but none of them did. They only caused more numbness and only dug the hole deeper.  I have come a long way since those days, but it's not over. I still rely on friends and family to make me happy. If I so much as think someone is upset with me, I get sick to my stomach. If they are doing something without me, I think that they hate me and are spending that time voicing their hatred of me. It's ridiculous to think that someone would spend that much of their time speaking of me, I know. Yet, I still let my imagination get away from me. I have tried so many times to just let things go and move on. I have tried talking to people in real life about it, but no one seems to get it. They just tell me there is no reason I should feel that way and to not worry about it. Yet, I still feel this way. The worst part is, I know I'm not helping. I'm angry all the time. I hate people in general. I'm nice to most people, but I'm a very unhappy person on the inside, and I don't know how to get happy. It's like I'm trapped. I'm in this mind of a very unhappy person wanting so bad to just be nice and happy. Am I missing something? What needs to fill this hole in me that I feel getting bigger? I've always been pretty good at hiding it, but I'm tired. And I'm starting to suck at hiding this. I think I need a vacation :) Or an outlet. I have GOT to find a hobby...:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3769884516362510312-5869608964923116881?l=greentwinkles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/feeds/5869608964923116881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3769884516362510312&amp;postID=5869608964923116881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/5869608964923116881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3769884516362510312/posts/default/5869608964923116881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://greentwinkles.blogspot.com/2007/07/first.html' title='The first....'/><author><name>Small Shake</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04507664913583515982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2x4MqJRpmiI/SNKw_nCp46I/AAAAAAAAABc/VLk7zx51DUc/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
