<?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-1054641149478138757</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:48:25.481-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mamma</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-4864737911072271528</id><published>2010-03-03T05:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T05:33:45.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bodrum</title><content type='html'>Herodotus was from Halicarnassus and the author of the book The Way of Herodotus, Justin Marozzi, visits there, now called Bodrum.  It's now a posh resort and he's sort of put off by the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking through an old House &amp;amp; Garden magazine this morning and there's a little travel piece on Bodrum and how fabulously glamorous it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-4864737911072271528?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/4864737911072271528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=4864737911072271528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/4864737911072271528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/4864737911072271528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2010/03/bodrum.html' title='Bodrum'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-2900445994941755559</id><published>2010-02-10T20:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T09:38:17.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lots and lots of snow............</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/S3gK0iaDe-I/AAAAAAAAAC0/hgatLMW1RMw/s1600-h/IMG_8074-small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438108447755434978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/S3gK0iaDe-I/AAAAAAAAAC0/hgatLMW1RMw/s400/IMG_8074-small.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-2900445994941755559?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/2900445994941755559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=2900445994941755559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/2900445994941755559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/2900445994941755559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2010/02/lots-and-lots-of-snow.html' title='Lots and lots of snow............'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/S3gK0iaDe-I/AAAAAAAAAC0/hgatLMW1RMw/s72-c/IMG_8074-small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-6717068156341752121</id><published>2010-02-06T20:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T20:20:08.478-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lesser evils</title><content type='html'>My son was harassing me about wanting to go to the store to buy a Lego set.  "Can we go to the store to buy a Lego set?  Pleeeeeease."  So I told him, "Watch TV."  So now whenever he wants to watch TV he asks for a Lego set.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-6717068156341752121?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/6717068156341752121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=6717068156341752121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6717068156341752121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6717068156341752121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2010/02/lesser-evils.html' title='Lesser evils'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-2494954405943441828</id><published>2010-01-23T05:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T05:29:55.219-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yoda and Herodotus</title><content type='html'>Yoda:  Teach yourself to let go of the things you fear to lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Herodotus:  He tells a story of the tyrant of Samos who was very fortunate.  The king of Egypt advised him to get rid of his most prized possession to protect his good fortune, so the tyrant did--he threw his most precious ring in the sea.  The ring was fished out by chance and brought back to him.  At that point the king of Egypt did not want to be his friend anymore because the tyrant's downfall was now sure and the king didn't want to have to feel bad for him.  And yes sure enough the tyrant was soon after killed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-2494954405943441828?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/2494954405943441828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=2494954405943441828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/2494954405943441828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/2494954405943441828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2010/01/yoda-and-herodotus.html' title='Yoda and Herodotus'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8996656196044651366</id><published>2010-01-20T20:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T05:30:31.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Booth and employee surveys</title><content type='html'>Booth: "I would know if she loved me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Employee surveys: you would know if your employees loved you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8996656196044651366?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8996656196044651366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8996656196044651366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8996656196044651366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8996656196044651366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2010/01/you-would-know.html' title='Booth and employee surveys'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-4066688314255129799</id><published>2010-01-16T20:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T20:21:09.112-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another John Krasinski dream</title><content type='html'>We worked together and he asked if I wanted to have dinner.  And I sort of had to pick between him and another guy and I was definitely leaning towards him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-4066688314255129799?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/4066688314255129799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=4066688314255129799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/4066688314255129799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/4066688314255129799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2010/01/another-john-krasinsky-dream.html' title='Another John Krasinski dream'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-1854674909476982712</id><published>2010-01-15T20:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T20:15:49.787-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sisters and shawls</title><content type='html'>I'm making my mother a shawl because she mentioned in passing that her sister has ten of them--meaning that she doesn't have ten.  I asked my own sister some styling advice, whether I should use an accent color, and she said, "You know she won't like it anyway."  Because my mother never likes anything and has been known to reject--yes, reject--gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I showed it to my mother and... she didn't like it.  She said she likes things with sleeves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told my sister and she said, "And you're shocked!"  She told me so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-1854674909476982712?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/1854674909476982712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=1854674909476982712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1854674909476982712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1854674909476982712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2010/01/sisters-and-shawls.html' title='Sisters and shawls'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-5880193063661394814</id><published>2010-01-11T20:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T21:09:39.671-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Glistening foods</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/S0vUMytjUvI/AAAAAAAAACs/Rf7YKCXI4nk/s1600-h/IMG_7903-small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425663492334244594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/S0vUMytjUvI/AAAAAAAAACs/Rf7YKCXI4nk/s400/IMG_7903-small.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/S0vUIdAJNfI/AAAAAAAAACk/_ZTnVxsQcp4/s1600-h/IMG_7915-small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425663417787168242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/S0vUIdAJNfI/AAAAAAAAACk/_ZTnVxsQcp4/s400/IMG_7915-small.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-5880193063661394814?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/5880193063661394814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=5880193063661394814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5880193063661394814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5880193063661394814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2010/01/glistening-christmas-side-dishes.html' title='Glistening foods'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/S0vUMytjUvI/AAAAAAAAACs/Rf7YKCXI4nk/s72-c/IMG_7903-small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-5947171610805248943</id><published>2010-01-11T20:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T20:38:21.882-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A break from the routine</title><content type='html'>I put whipped cream on my son's hot chocolate instead of mini marshmallows.  He was very pleased--he still displays joy freely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-5947171610805248943?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/5947171610805248943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=5947171610805248943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5947171610805248943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5947171610805248943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2010/01/break-from-routine.html' title='A break from the routine'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-6178348235906967624</id><published>2010-01-09T17:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T17:59:59.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Delaware Water Gap</title><content type='html'>Route 80 runs through it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-6178348235906967624?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/6178348235906967624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=6178348235906967624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6178348235906967624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6178348235906967624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2010/01/delaware-water-gap.html' title='The Delaware Water Gap'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8566650134950775854</id><published>2009-12-31T21:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T21:03:28.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>December 31st, 1979</title><content type='html'>There was a That 70s Show episode on tonight that took place on December 31st, 1979.  I remember where I was on December 31st, 1979.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8566650134950775854?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8566650134950775854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8566650134950775854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8566650134950775854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8566650134950775854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2009/12/december-31st-1979.html' title='December 31st, 1979'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-3816924157282544774</id><published>2009-12-27T08:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T08:48:09.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Present from my son</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SzdlcB-1msI/AAAAAAAAACM/icg2-tWAt5k/s1600-h/IMG_7924-small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419912208806419138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SzdlcB-1msI/AAAAAAAAACM/icg2-tWAt5k/s400/IMG_7924-small.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;He said he picked the prettiest bug. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-3816924157282544774?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/3816924157282544774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=3816924157282544774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3816924157282544774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3816924157282544774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2009/12/present-from-my-son.html' title='Present from my son'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SzdlcB-1msI/AAAAAAAAACM/icg2-tWAt5k/s72-c/IMG_7924-small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-1917834208595607762</id><published>2009-12-24T08:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T08:20:17.012-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard from an Admin</title><content type='html'>"You know I don't care about money and all that stuff but he's my boss and you know what he gave me for Christmas? A box of Lindt chocolates, that's $7, and&lt;inaudible&gt; [inaudible], that's $15. He spent $20!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, that was too little to spend on her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-1917834208595607762?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/1917834208595607762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=1917834208595607762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1917834208595607762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1917834208595607762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2009/12/overheard-from-admin.html' title='Overheard from an Admin'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8749336257088550500</id><published>2009-12-20T16:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T08:19:45.524-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My son the child of divorce's Christmas lists</title><content type='html'>At his father's house:&lt;br /&gt;1. Lego Batman-Arkham Asylum set&lt;br /&gt;2. Lego Indiana Jones-Temple of Doom set&lt;br /&gt;3. Lego Batman-The Batcave set&lt;br /&gt;4. Lego Indiana Jones “The Adventure Continues” video game for PlayStation 2&lt;br /&gt;5. Lego Star Wars “The Complete Saga” video game for PlayStation 2&lt;br /&gt;6. Lego Batman-Bane and The Riddler’s Hide-out set&lt;br /&gt;7. Lego Batman-The Joker’s Ice Cream Truck set&lt;br /&gt;8. Lego Star Wars The Clone Wars-Assassin Droid Speeder set&lt;br /&gt;9. Lego Star Wars The Clone Wars-Anakin and Ashoka’s Y-wing fighter set&lt;br /&gt;10. Lego Star Wars The Clone Wars-Pirate tank set&lt;br /&gt;11. Lego Indiana Jones-Campsite Duel set&lt;br /&gt;12. The “Marvel Superhero Squad” video game for PlayStation 2&lt;br /&gt;13. Lego Spongebob- Good Neighbours at Bikini Bottom set&lt;br /&gt;14. Lego Spongebob- Build-A-Bob set&lt;br /&gt;15. Lego Spongebob- Emergency Room set&lt;br /&gt;16. Lego Star Wars- Midi-scale Millennium Falcon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at my house:&lt;br /&gt;1. Lego Star Wars- Death Star set&lt;br /&gt;2. Lego Star Wars- The Battle of Endor set&lt;br /&gt;3. Transformers- Optimus Prime&lt;br /&gt;4. Transformers- Metroplex&lt;br /&gt;5. Transformers- Wing Saber&lt;br /&gt;6. Transformers- Leobreaker&lt;br /&gt;7. Transformers- Cybertron Defense Hotshot&lt;br /&gt;8. Transformers- Megatron&lt;br /&gt;9. Transformers- Starscream&lt;br /&gt;10. Transformers- Crumplezone&lt;br /&gt;11. Transformers- Dark Crumplezone&lt;br /&gt;12. Transformers- Ransack&lt;br /&gt;13. Transformers- Ransack GTS&lt;br /&gt;14. Transformers- Scourge&lt;br /&gt;15. Transformers- Nemesis Breaker&lt;br /&gt;16. Transformers- Undermine&lt;br /&gt;17. Transformers- Menasor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knows he won't get everything but he believes that the more he puts in the more he will get, and every year he puts in more and gets a smaller percentage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8749336257088550500?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8749336257088550500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8749336257088550500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8749336257088550500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8749336257088550500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-sons-christmas-list.html' title='My son the child of divorce&apos;s Christmas lists'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-429172437295963547</id><published>2009-12-10T06:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T06:39:00.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Serious Jedi insult</title><content type='html'>You think with your light saber.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-429172437295963547?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/429172437295963547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=429172437295963547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/429172437295963547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/429172437295963547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2009/12/serious-jedi-insult.html' title='Serious Jedi insult'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-9076830234233722718</id><published>2009-12-09T07:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T07:17:22.051-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I like being the boy that I am</title><content type='html'>My son.&lt;br /&gt;What kind of boy are you?&lt;br /&gt;You know, nice... friendly...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-9076830234233722718?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/9076830234233722718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=9076830234233722718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/9076830234233722718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/9076830234233722718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-like-being-boy-that-i-am.html' title='I like being the boy that I am'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-3734002327923979926</id><published>2009-12-03T06:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T06:56:59.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I would not stop for gas</title><content type='html'>it kindly stopped for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-3734002327923979926?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/3734002327923979926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=3734002327923979926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3734002327923979926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3734002327923979926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2009/12/because-i-would-not-stop-for-gas.html' title='Because I would not stop for gas'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-7811552181123120891</id><published>2009-12-01T18:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T18:58:58.437-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny things</title><content type='html'>are sometimes sad.&lt;br /&gt;Sad things are never funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-7811552181123120891?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/7811552181123120891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=7811552181123120891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7811552181123120891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7811552181123120891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2009/12/funny-things.html' title='Funny things'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-5587965636519748603</id><published>2009-12-01T18:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T18:59:14.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There's always someone</title><content type='html'>who wants you to do something different.&lt;br /&gt;Or at least differently.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-5587965636519748603?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/5587965636519748603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=5587965636519748603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5587965636519748603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5587965636519748603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2009/12/theres-always-someone.html' title='There&apos;s always someone'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-4748209297098620062</id><published>2008-06-09T06:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T06:55:32.089-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I dreamed about John Kraskinski again!</title><content type='html'>And I really don't spend that much waking time thinking about him. Really!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time it was a long dream. Pam was pestering him about their future together and I was needling them, "Isn't it great to think about the future?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Michael decided to go on a road trip to a village in the French countryside, the most adorable village, and we all drank wine at an outdoor cafe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-4748209297098620062?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/4748209297098620062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=4748209297098620062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/4748209297098620062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/4748209297098620062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-dreamed-about-john-kraskinski-again.html' title='I dreamed about John Kraskinski again!'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8934900862748152400</id><published>2008-06-08T11:21:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T11:25:10.353-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop complaining!</title><content type='html'>When I take my son to baseball, I listen to the other moms, and my goodness they complain a lot! About everything and most especially everyone. How everyone is doing things not the way they think they should be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say the moms complain much more than the dads. They also talk more in general, so it may just be their complaints get more air time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past game he didn't do as well, he was up twice and struck out both times. But he seemed okay with it. He has low expectations of himself...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8934900862748152400?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8934900862748152400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8934900862748152400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8934900862748152400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8934900862748152400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/06/stop-complaining.html' title='Stop complaining!'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-6415698770450253884</id><published>2008-06-03T19:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T19:06:07.511-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Baseball victories</title><content type='html'>My son had baseball last night, and he's not an aggressive/athletic kid, so usually he holds out for walks. Well, last night he had two walks and also two hits, and he scored two runs, stole a base, did lots of stuff. It was actually fun to watch him play, which is novel to me, normally I am in pain the entire time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time he did mess up, he was on second base and started running with no place to go. He managed to get back to the base safely, and then in the silent sort-of-horror that ensued, because it had in fact been a traumatic two-seconds, I hear the coach's voice, loud, clear: "Stay on the base! DON'T MOVE!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the game, and this was his best game ever, he comes running to me, and all he had to say was, "Look, I got snacks!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-6415698770450253884?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/6415698770450253884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=6415698770450253884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6415698770450253884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6415698770450253884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/06/baseball-victories.html' title='Baseball victories'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-1465200618781778203</id><published>2008-06-01T19:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T20:56:15.383-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My arms ache</title><content type='html'>I read somewhere about someone who loved what she did so much that it took over her life so she stopped doing it, and now she started it up again on a slower scale. It applied to crafts, but it can apply to so much. I can so much relate to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, now I'm working on my garden and my arms are so tired and sore that I'm having a tough time typing. Tomorrow at work where I do nothing but talking on the phone and typing is going to be very rough...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pace yourself...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-1465200618781778203?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/1465200618781778203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=1465200618781778203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1465200618781778203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1465200618781778203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-read-somewhere-about-someone-who.html' title='My arms ache'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8391576900820559245</id><published>2008-05-31T19:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T19:39:10.392-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I went to my 25th college reunion and all I had was a nice time</title><content type='html'>I thought it would be more earth-shattering, life-changing and revealing of the true meaning of life. Instead, I had a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is good too...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8391576900820559245?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8391576900820559245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8391576900820559245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8391576900820559245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8391576900820559245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-went-to-my-25th-college-reunion-and.html' title='I went to my 25th college reunion and all I had was a nice time'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8963062823932214629</id><published>2008-05-28T19:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T19:29:42.408-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The calm before graduation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SD3pfBxijoI/AAAAAAAAABc/7gwFAhcM7hw/s1600-h/IMG_4435-small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205573463571598978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SD3pfBxijoI/AAAAAAAAABc/7gwFAhcM7hw/s400/IMG_4435-small.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8963062823932214629?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8963062823932214629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8963062823932214629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8963062823932214629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8963062823932214629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/graduation.html' title='The calm before graduation'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SD3pfBxijoI/AAAAAAAAABc/7gwFAhcM7hw/s72-c/IMG_4435-small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-3179559049726424582</id><published>2008-05-28T19:11:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T10:21:57.058-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons learned at my college reunion</title><content type='html'>Lesson #1: The people who were nice then are still nice and the people who were snobs are still snobs. People don't change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corollary: Those that do change a little bit change for the better. No one gets worse. That's a bit of good news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson #2: My son doesn't mind being bored if it's just the two of us, but he doesn't like being bored with others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I didn't want to pay top dollar for a hotel room, I stayed in the dorms. The bathrooms were, as they have always been, down the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson #3: I don't like using a bathroom down the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corollary: There's always someone else in the bathroom with you. Even at 6 in the morning, and you know these people were out drinking all night! I can't do bathroom stuff with other people in there, not anymore!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, my son didn't mind the bathroom situation at all. He'd announce, "I'm going to the bathroom!" Okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-3179559049726424582?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/3179559049726424582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=3179559049726424582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3179559049726424582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3179559049726424582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/lesson-1-learned-at-my-college-reunion.html' title='Lessons learned at my college reunion'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8997167471131217186</id><published>2008-05-19T20:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T20:13:50.668-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Racing</title><content type='html'>We were watching the snail races on Spongebob and Gary spins out of control and hits the tire wall, and I said to my son, "This is just like Formula 1."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he says, "Yes, but this is more dangerous."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8997167471131217186?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8997167471131217186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8997167471131217186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8997167471131217186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8997167471131217186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/racing.html' title='Racing'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-6555548587051922456</id><published>2008-05-18T14:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T14:33:44.272-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Disaster averted</title><content type='html'>So, it doesn't look bad, I can definitely show up at work. Phew. I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only thing is I didn't get all the gray out. Not sure why. Might have to try again. Also the color is a bit dark and a bit too reddish, so I might try a slightly different shade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to my college reunion on Friday, so I need to get this project completed by then...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-6555548587051922456?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/6555548587051922456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=6555548587051922456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6555548587051922456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6555548587051922456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/disaster-averter.html' title='Disaster averted'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-7293355937375908123</id><published>2008-05-18T13:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T13:48:18.457-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Desperately seeking younger better looking self</title><content type='html'>I did it, I colored my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's still wet so I don't know what it will look like yet. I hope I can face work tomorrow, that's my bare minimum hope. Actually, that's my only hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to go to meetings with 10-20-50 women in the room, and I was always the only one who didn't color her hair. So I finally did it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-7293355937375908123?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/7293355937375908123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=7293355937375908123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7293355937375908123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7293355937375908123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/desperately-seeking-younger-better.html' title='Desperately seeking younger better looking self'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-5982271818447215955</id><published>2008-05-18T08:57:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T11:09:23.061-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Success</title><content type='html'>My son is playing, and I use the term loosely, baseball. This is the first year of kid-pitch and he's discovered... the walk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How'd you do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I got a walk!" He beams. That's a good game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-5982271818447215955?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/5982271818447215955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=5982271818447215955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5982271818447215955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5982271818447215955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-son-plays-and-i-use-term-loosely.html' title='Success'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-1365742949848024872</id><published>2008-05-17T16:04:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T16:06:39.227-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two signs</title><content type='html'>I saw these two signs on the side of the road:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Earn CEO-level income working from home!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Free horse manure&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is the biggest load of it?&lt;br /&gt;What is CEO-level income anyway? Is it an exact figure or just new terminology for a king's ransom?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-1365742949848024872?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/1365742949848024872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=1365742949848024872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1365742949848024872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1365742949848024872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/two-signs.html' title='Two signs'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-5063791735952825262</id><published>2008-05-15T19:36:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T19:39:46.892-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When bad stuff happens to good employees</title><content type='html'>My friend called me from Europe tonight, she's there for work. We talked about bad things that happen at work, how no one talks about them to friends and family, it's sort of a dark secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of like a bad marriage, people don't talk about it then suddenly they get divorced and everyone says, "What happened?" Same thing at work, suddenly someone is let go, and everyone says, "What happened?" Horrible stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-5063791735952825262?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/5063791735952825262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=5063791735952825262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5063791735952825262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5063791735952825262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-friend-called-me-from-europe-tonight.html' title='When bad stuff happens to good employees'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8786334547348140439</id><published>2008-05-13T19:17:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T19:36:12.339-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Piano recital</title><content type='html'>I went to my son's piano recital. He played Camptown Races, if that's the right name, and Ode to Joy, which I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way it was set up his music was in front of his face, so all I could see in a narrow band below the music and above the keyboard were his little pudgy fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I wondered why they set it up so we couldn't see their faces, but then it occurred to me that these folks at this music school leave nothing to chance, and it was probably so the kids wouldn't be distracted. He told me later that he had been a little nervous; I told him that was okay, that everyone gets a little nervous. Seems like good practice for the really nerve-wracking things that happen later in life, but I didn't tell him that, although I believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he got a trophy and two cookies. One of the other kids asked for the cookies during the program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him afterwards that I was very proud of him and that as a reward he gets to remain my son. He said, "Yeah, that's the best award!" So there you go. When the gypsies call to take him off my hands, I'll have to push them off again...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8786334547348140439?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8786334547348140439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8786334547348140439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8786334547348140439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8786334547348140439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/piano-recital.html' title='Piano recital'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8794908551655048296</id><published>2008-05-12T20:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:56:38.732-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreamy... part deux</title><content type='html'>Amazing but true: I dreamed about John Krasinski again. And this time, no Pam!...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8794908551655048296?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8794908551655048296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8794908551655048296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8794908551655048296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8794908551655048296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/dreamy-part-deux.html' title='Dreamy... part deux'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-3192923507750282266</id><published>2008-05-11T10:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T10:06:45.497-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spongebob and Patrick enter pod races</title><content type='html'>With Squidward as pit crew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SCb9DWG63_I/AAAAAAAAABU/-rGqdXX55LE/s1600-h/IMG_4346-small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199121053761855474" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SCb9DWG63_I/AAAAAAAAABU/-rGqdXX55LE/s400/IMG_4346-small.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-3192923507750282266?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/3192923507750282266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=3192923507750282266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3192923507750282266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3192923507750282266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/spongebob-and-patrick-enter-pod-races.html' title='Spongebob and Patrick enter pod races'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SCb9DWG63_I/AAAAAAAAABU/-rGqdXX55LE/s72-c/IMG_4346-small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-6593264222635590238</id><published>2008-05-11T10:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:55:43.652-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More permission</title><content type='html'>"Can I borrow the spatula for my Krusty Krab?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know that when he decides he wants to juggle some knives he won't ask for permission first because he'll know he won't receive it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-6593264222635590238?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/6593264222635590238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=6593264222635590238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6593264222635590238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6593264222635590238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/more-permission.html' title='More permission'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-2662239707882557172</id><published>2008-05-10T12:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T12:48:36.324-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Permission</title><content type='html'>My son had his friend over and he calls me, "Mammaaaaaa!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can I give him 9 cents?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? Okay, could he possibly really be asking me if he can give his friend 9 cents, or am I about to agree to something that I will regret stupendously really soon? It can't be about 9 cents. Think! What could it be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-2662239707882557172?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/2662239707882557172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=2662239707882557172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/2662239707882557172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/2662239707882557172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/permission.html' title='Permission'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-2184416744972611604</id><published>2008-05-10T09:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T10:00:42.851-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bird bath</title><content type='html'>My mother had this brilliant idea to make a bird bath as an activity for her and my son, so she did, using a plant stand and a pasta bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only is it completely unattractive aesthetically to humans, but it hasn't attracted a single bird either. Does anyone know what makes a bird bath a bird bath?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SCWqFlNJUbI/AAAAAAAAABM/ary1g656Gmk/s1600-h/IMG_4308-small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198748357732422066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SCWqFlNJUbI/AAAAAAAAABM/ary1g656Gmk/s400/IMG_4308-small.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-2184416744972611604?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/2184416744972611604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=2184416744972611604' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/2184416744972611604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/2184416744972611604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/bird-bath.html' title='Bird bath'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SCWqFlNJUbI/AAAAAAAAABM/ary1g656Gmk/s72-c/IMG_4308-small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-5088784699937644450</id><published>2008-05-10T09:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T09:57:20.115-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Really boring</title><content type='html'>My son asked me last night, "Mamma, what do you do at work?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "I talk on the phone and type on the computer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "That's really boring."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-5088784699937644450?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/5088784699937644450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=5088784699937644450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5088784699937644450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5088784699937644450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/really-boring.html' title='Really boring'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8015492248960623224</id><published>2008-05-04T19:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T19:44:35.537-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Very odd coincidences</title><content type='html'>These things happen to me all the time, and today's was a really odd one indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching CSI and Grissom said, "Some circumstantial evidence is very strong, such as when you find a trout in the milk. Henry David Thoreau." Now, I have absolutely no idea what that means, I don't get it at all, but don't you know I saw the same exact quote earlier today?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is NOT a common quote. I don't think it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had to figure out where I might have seen it, and it's in a library book called "Uncertain Peril" about genetic engineering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How completely odd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8015492248960623224?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8015492248960623224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8015492248960623224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8015492248960623224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8015492248960623224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/very-odd-coincidences.html' title='Very odd coincidences'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-3161108132738846266</id><published>2008-05-04T13:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T13:45:22.348-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Way too much information</title><content type='html'>I'm not a friendly person but for some reason people talk to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday at my son's baseball game (a whole other story, but not the topic here) I met a woman who within a half hour--before the game had even started--told me that she was one of 14 children, that she was a twin, that her twin sister lives in Altoona, that her mother read cards, that she knew when her husband was going to die, that he spoke to her when she was in a car wreck and that her grandson was the catcher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was completely fascinated by her, in fact, and only later did I think that maybe it was TMI.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-3161108132738846266?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/3161108132738846266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=3161108132738846266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3161108132738846266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3161108132738846266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/way-too-much-information.html' title='Way too much information'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-2419662112184290553</id><published>2008-05-04T12:44:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T13:47:16.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Borrowing to unborrow</title><content type='html'>It's a fact that when you borrow something you usually have to return it. I borrowed a desk from my mother and father years ago and recently they decided they needed it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I asked the spouse from whom I'm free to borrow his truck to return the desk--I would give him my car in exchange for the time period in question, so he's not stranded. Not such a complex request for anyone else, but a difficult one for the King of Nonsensical Explanations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sampler of the type of crap he can come up with:&lt;br /&gt;"You can't borrow the truck because I have to get eggs."&lt;br /&gt;"You can't borrow the truck because I have to go to Philadelphia."&lt;br /&gt;"You can't borrow the truck because I might go kayaking in three weeks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is all a version of: "You can't borrow it but I'm not sure why and I can't think of a good reason but there must be one so here, here's one that popped into my head..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally asked him enough times that he ran out of his kingdom's currency... and so that too is now done. Desk returned!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it was Ben Frank who said: neither a borrower nor a lender be. But that would not work at all, for anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-2419662112184290553?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/2419662112184290553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=2419662112184290553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/2419662112184290553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/2419662112184290553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/borrowing-to-unborrow.html' title='Borrowing to unborrow'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-7828264993215151118</id><published>2008-05-03T09:10:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T10:01:16.908-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Get your reunion now!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;This is the latest email solicitation from our college class president--does it seem at all dignified and appropriate to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never mind the offense to Hartford, which I'm sure is a fine city, but doesn't this read like a pitch for a phone card?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Get your reunion tickets and your room !&lt;br /&gt;ONLY 3 Days Until&lt;br /&gt;Late Fees are Added and Room Reservations Close!&lt;br /&gt;(Or then you'll have to stay in Hartford!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this Monday, May 5th, at midnight: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- reunion registration ends without incurring a LATE FEE &amp;amp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- dorm room reservations will close to all registrations!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now is the time to register. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don't delay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;WE NEED TO KNOW IF YOU ARE COMING&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Bad grammar too! Hmph!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-7828264993215151118?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/7828264993215151118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=7828264993215151118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7828264993215151118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7828264993215151118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/05/get-your-reunion-now.html' title='Get your reunion now!'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-3673747771850099319</id><published>2008-04-29T20:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T20:08:32.521-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreamy...</title><content type='html'>I dreamed of John Krasinski last night, and it seemed that he might like me more than Pam...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-3673747771850099319?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/3673747771850099319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=3673747771850099319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3673747771850099319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3673747771850099319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/dreamy.html' title='Dreamy...'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8225637531612611359</id><published>2008-04-28T21:01:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T20:06:06.860-04:00</updated><title type='text'>April is stress and anxiety awareness month</title><content type='html'>I received this email from someone who won one of my eBay auctions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have just won the bid on your item. I am interested in bidding on some other items you have for sale. How long would I have to continue bidding in order to have everything ship together to save on the shipping cost?" I replied and explained, I'm easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five days later, from the same person: "I sent an e-mail about 30 minutes ago [actually, no] regarding combined shipping on more than one bid. I just saw paid for my item and at the end saw the note to wait to pay until finished bidding on all items. I have two questions: 1) how much time is allowed to continue bidding and wait to pay for all items 2) since I have just paid for my item - can I still bid on other items and will you still combine shipping - if so for how long can I continue to bid. Thank you in advance for your responses." Oh, my!! The stress in her tone! It's ok, whatever you want is fine, really. It's just me here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, 10 days later, are you ready for a completely unexpected turn of events? Here goes: "I have completed my bidding. Please ship as soon as possible. My son's birthday is this coming week and we would like to receive them in time for his birthday. Please confirm via e-mail that the item has been shipped and the approximate arrival date. Thank you." Way to turn the stress completely around! I'm the one who's stressed now! Now I'm supposed to control the post office, I can't control when the package will get there, and the child's entire worldly happiness is in my hands... I... can't... take it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8225637531612611359?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8225637531612611359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8225637531612611359' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8225637531612611359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8225637531612611359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/april-is-stress-and-anxiety-awareness.html' title='April is stress and anxiety awareness month'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-6731647127682484297</id><published>2008-04-26T17:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T17:38:43.649-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love "always"</title><content type='html'>I was in the attic looking for something and I found this birthday card from the spouse from whom I'm now free. Note he professes eternal love, but the "always" is all scrunched in an inadequately small space. Probably a sign of things that were to come, had I read into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The red house is Snoopy's house. He was big on Snoopy cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SBOf6rB4JlI/AAAAAAAAABE/AXpszVq5SL8/s1600-h/IMG_4265-small.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193670625620141650" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SBOf6rB4JlI/AAAAAAAAABE/AXpszVq5SL8/s400/IMG_4265-small.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-6731647127682484297?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/6731647127682484297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=6731647127682484297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6731647127682484297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6731647127682484297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/love-always.html' title='Love &quot;always&quot;'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SBOf6rB4JlI/AAAAAAAAABE/AXpszVq5SL8/s72-c/IMG_4265-small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-7884982520242113414</id><published>2008-04-26T17:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T17:23:49.499-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hate is so corrosive</title><content type='html'>I don't believe in harboring negative emotions. I think that hate is more corrosive on the hater than on the hated, so I try to stay away from hate. But I hate our college class president!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can't just get together because it might be fun, no, we have to beat an attendance record. So my attending the reunion makes her look good. Hate is so corrosive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-7884982520242113414?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/7884982520242113414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=7884982520242113414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7884982520242113414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7884982520242113414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/hate-is-so-corrosive.html' title='Hate is so corrosive'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-6964393313800381410</id><published>2008-04-24T22:06:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T22:15:44.978-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Work tears</title><content type='html'>I took my son to Take our Daughters to Work. He wants to be a cartoonist when he grows up and I'm trying to present him with some possible alternatives, you know, office work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They did a nice event for the kids, there were presentations on diversity and security, and a scavenger hunt, and he seemed to like that, we had lunch in the cafeteria, I introduced him to lots of people, and so on, and then he sat in my office and played Spongebob video games on the computer, which made him cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way out of the building I asked him if he might like to work in a place like that someday and he said yes and I asked him why, thinking, you know, was it the diversity, the security, the cafeteria, all the people, and he said: I liked playing on the computer. Which was the one thing about the day that made him cry!... And that's not what we do at work!... That wasn't the point!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate a nice leftover conference room prosciutto sandwich. It was really delicious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-6964393313800381410?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/6964393313800381410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=6964393313800381410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6964393313800381410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6964393313800381410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-took-my-son-to-take-our-daughters-to.html' title='Work tears'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-5768244124517742865</id><published>2008-04-24T17:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T17:37:22.949-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The flip side</title><content type='html'>You know who hates free food? Mr. Krabs!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-5768244124517742865?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/5768244124517742865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=5768244124517742865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5768244124517742865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5768244124517742865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/flip-side.html' title='The flip side'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-3047893147921221847</id><published>2008-04-23T20:07:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T16:42:29.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Infamy</title><content type='html'>I'm famous in my office--and it's not good famous--for eating leftover conference room food. Yesterday I got the last tuna sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that it was just roast beef sandwiches--no one eats roast beef. Not even me. It just sits there all afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you stoop so low? you ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's simple really, it's free and it's food, and I'm frugal and famished.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-3047893147921221847?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/3047893147921221847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=3047893147921221847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3047893147921221847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3047893147921221847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/infamy.html' title='Infamy'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-4005893196483034137</id><published>2008-04-23T07:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T07:03:03.144-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why they invented cubicles</title><content type='html'>I saw an episode of The Office where Dwight's desk is moved into the men's room. And that's why they invented cubicles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You couldn't just move the desk, you'd have to move the whole cluster of 4 or 6 or 8 cubes and they wouldn't fit through the door, and before you've even finished thinking about it the fun has been totally sucked out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-4005893196483034137?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/4005893196483034137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=4005893196483034137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/4005893196483034137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/4005893196483034137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/why-they-invented-cubicles.html' title='Why they invented cubicles'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-3766223439032423711</id><published>2008-04-21T21:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T21:19:53.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I work</title><content type='html'>Today I took the day off and did various things, had a nice day, until, dum-da-dum-dum-dah... because I was around, I had to take my son to both piano lessons and baseball practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I know why I work: so I don't have to do that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-3766223439032423711?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/3766223439032423711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=3766223439032423711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3766223439032423711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3766223439032423711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/why-i-work.html' title='Why I work'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8923024228731401571</id><published>2008-04-20T21:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T21:35:02.958-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Wars choices</title><content type='html'>We are a Star Wars household. Six episodes just barely meet our Star Wars needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's such a wonderful saga of underfunded good vs. Big Evil, but I still haven't figured out the important question: who's cuter, Anakin or Han Solo?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8923024228731401571?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8923024228731401571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8923024228731401571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8923024228731401571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8923024228731401571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/star-wars-choices.html' title='Star Wars choices'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-6708853488699716352</id><published>2008-04-20T19:07:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T21:31:09.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Home accomplishments</title><content type='html'>Occasionally I like to pretend I run a good household.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I put some of the outdoor chairs outdoors, four of them. And I moved a bookcase upstairs. In the process I stepped on one of the sharp toys that are strewn on the floor, and it hurt--it happened to be the same foot I used yesterday to step on a thorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in trying to be virtuous, my non-virtuous mess got me. There's a message in there somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-6708853488699716352?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/6708853488699716352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=6708853488699716352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6708853488699716352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/6708853488699716352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/home-accomplishments.html' title='Home accomplishments'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-5571456665210568128</id><published>2008-04-19T11:58:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T12:08:32.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to the jungle</title><content type='html'>My garden:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SAoXaVlmCqI/AAAAAAAAAA8/RMwfkrqZS3c/s1600-h/IMG_4236-small-crop.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190987261736782498" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SAoXaVlmCqI/AAAAAAAAAA8/RMwfkrqZS3c/s320/IMG_4236-small-crop.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mulch pile:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SAoXLFlmCpI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ztld9RahsV4/s1600-h/IMG_4237-small-crop.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190986999743777426" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SAoXLFlmCpI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ztld9RahsV4/s320/IMG_4237-small-crop.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shall the twain ever meet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The history of these shots:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The small prop plane had to have been flying since the '30s, I was ready to puke, but it finally landed on a too-short grass strip in the middle of the jungle... no, no, that's the wrong story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the correct story:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went outside in my bare feet because I forgot to put shoes on. Huh? How old am I? I forgot to wear shoes to go outside? Yes, that's what happened. I thought I would walk out to take the shot via the little path next to the barberry bushes, and I stepped on a thorn. It was quite painful, and I had to pull hard to get it out of my foot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-5571456665210568128?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/5571456665210568128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=5571456665210568128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5571456665210568128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5571456665210568128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-garden-my-mulch-pile-shall-twain.html' title='Trip to the jungle'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgEwgDrr70w/SAoXaVlmCqI/AAAAAAAAAA8/RMwfkrqZS3c/s72-c/IMG_4236-small-crop.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-3281449162028886360</id><published>2008-04-19T07:47:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T11:57:56.624-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's wrong with youth today</title><content type='html'>My son woke up really early this morning, weekday-early, which misses the whole point of the weekend-sleep-in, and he says, "Did I miss fried dynamite, did I miss it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you talking about?!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's cartoons. Why would they name a cartoon program after something that's not good for you and something that's not good for anybody?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-3281449162028886360?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/3281449162028886360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=3281449162028886360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3281449162028886360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/3281449162028886360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-son-woke-up-really-early-this.html' title='What&apos;s wrong with youth today'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-7967178187290366148</id><published>2008-04-18T21:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T21:37:31.491-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Prey</title><content type='html'>I was sitting out on the deck and there was a fox walking through the back yard. It saw me and stopped and fixed me so intently that I started to feel like prey, or at least how I think prey would feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to wonder if it could run the 30 feet towards the deck and up a flight of deck stairs faster than I could get up from my chair, open the sliding door, go inside and close the sliding door behind me. I thought it might be a push.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So before it had a chance to decide to take me up on that telepathic that challenge, I got up and went inside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-7967178187290366148?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/7967178187290366148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=7967178187290366148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7967178187290366148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7967178187290366148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/prey.html' title='Prey'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-1157087956209687663</id><published>2008-04-18T18:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T18:42:36.849-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Papal visit</title><content type='html'>I was going to write this:&lt;br /&gt;When you believe you are god's representative on earth, you may very well be one of many, but when 1 billion people believe you're god's rep on earth, now &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; is unique.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I heard on the radio the pope's visit to the synagogue, the kind words, about the nice gift he brought, and I was moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go: from snide to teary-eyed is a short distance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-1157087956209687663?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/1157087956209687663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=1157087956209687663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1157087956209687663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1157087956209687663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/papal-visit.html' title='Papal visit'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-5136703247090284573</id><published>2008-04-18T18:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T18:39:55.233-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been approved for a soda</title><content type='html'>Today I submitted $1.35 to the vending machine, which took my application, processed it, and approved me for a NEW lime diet coke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in once again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-5136703247090284573?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/5136703247090284573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=5136703247090284573' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5136703247090284573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5136703247090284573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/ive-been-approved-for-soda.html' title='I&apos;ve been approved for a soda'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-1566877127977557713</id><published>2008-04-17T20:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T20:45:41.186-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been accepted to the dorm of my choice!</title><content type='html'>I'm going to my college reunion this year and signed up to stay in the dorms because it's A LOT cheaper than a hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not realize there was a formal application process and that I could have been... presumably... agh... rejected (!) until I received this email today from the Residential Life Office: "Your Reunion Housing Reservation Request has been approved." [Caps theirs.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been accepted, I'm in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I have to do is pay $35,000... no, wait, that would be for tuition, it's just a few hundred bucks...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-1566877127977557713?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/1566877127977557713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=1566877127977557713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1566877127977557713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/1566877127977557713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/ive-been-accepted-to-college-of-my.html' title='I&apos;ve been accepted to the dorm of my choice!'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-5419872059325719412</id><published>2008-04-17T20:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T16:59:20.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday parties at work</title><content type='html'>At my office there are monthly birthday parties for all the birthdays that fall during the month. There are maybe 6 or 7 honorees each month, some 100 people invited, about 100 square feet of sheet cake, and 8 people show up. The same 8 every month. Including me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call myself "Proud Sponsor and Fervent Supporter of the Monthly Birthday Celebration."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-5419872059325719412?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/5419872059325719412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=5419872059325719412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5419872059325719412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/5419872059325719412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/birthday-parties-at-work.html' title='Birthday parties at work'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-7076382722316078063</id><published>2008-04-16T21:09:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T16:57:13.770-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Annoyance</title><content type='html'>The most annoying words on earth:&lt;br /&gt;a) Make me.&lt;br /&gt;b) Yeah, right.&lt;br /&gt;c) And I should care because?&lt;br /&gt;It's not multiple choice, it's all of the above.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-7076382722316078063?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/7076382722316078063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=7076382722316078063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7076382722316078063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/7076382722316078063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/annoyance.html' title='Annoyance'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-60612538088499860</id><published>2008-04-16T20:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T20:17:53.598-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Punic Wars</title><content type='html'>I get library books for my father, who's retired, so he keeps busy instead of railing at the world. I got him a big 400-page book in tiny print on the Punic Wars, and don't you know it he knocked it out in two weeks flat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now he's railing about LIBOR. Don't ask.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-60612538088499860?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/60612538088499860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=60612538088499860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/60612538088499860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/60612538088499860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/punic-wars.html' title='Punic Wars'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-985964744095108430</id><published>2008-04-16T19:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T19:52:13.980-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Catholic teachers strike</title><content type='html'>You'd think the Catholic schools and teachers would find another way to overcome their differences, something more conciliatory. You'd think they'd offer their other cheek or something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-985964744095108430?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/985964744095108430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=985964744095108430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/985964744095108430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/985964744095108430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/catholic-teachers-strike.html' title='Catholic teachers strike'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-8087239174229836735</id><published>2008-04-16T19:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T19:42:31.513-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My sister is the smartest person I know</title><content type='html'>Not only is she smart, but she's totally dispassionate about her views, she tells it like she sees it, no hidden agenda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, anyway, I'm making homage to her because&lt;br /&gt;a) she deserves it in a general way, and&lt;br /&gt;b) she helped me authenticate the blog for the adsense to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That last one alone makes her a genius in my book.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-8087239174229836735?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/8087239174229836735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=8087239174229836735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8087239174229836735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/8087239174229836735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-sister-is-smartest-person-i-know.html' title='My sister is the smartest person I know'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054641149478138757.post-918582551784473566</id><published>2008-04-16T07:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T07:08:25.950-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>I'm starting this today because today's date is all powers of two: 4, 16 and 8.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't choose it from among 365 days a year, I just chose it among today, yesterday, and the day before.&lt;br /&gt;An earlier blog I did started on my high school boyfriend's birthday, which no one knew but me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054641149478138757-918582551784473566?l=mymamma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/feeds/918582551784473566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1054641149478138757&amp;postID=918582551784473566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/918582551784473566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054641149478138757/posts/default/918582551784473566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymamma.blogspot.com/2008/04/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02799838284265604073</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
